Page 92 of Never Date a Celebrity

Piper puffed her cheeks out and blew out a breath. “It’s gonna be busy. Again.”

“Busy?” Niamh looked shell-shocked. “I was up and down like a fiddler’s elbow last night. It’s been hectic all week.”

“Get used to it. We’ve got a celeb in our midst now,” Piper said.

“No. Amy doesn’t show up here until way later on in the evenings. She doesn’t want to distract me.” Which she most definitely would. Imogen couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Amy at the best of times.

“I wasn’t talking about Amelia,” Piper replied. Imogen had told them several times that they were welcome to call her Amy too, but to them she was still Amelia Whitlock, Hollywood superstar. Imogen wondered if that would ever change. The novelty had to wear off at some point, surely.

“You mean me?” she said in disbelief. “Pfft, don’t be ridiculous. I’m hardly a celebrity. People are just nosy, that’s all.” She did her best to sound unaffected. In truth, she couldn’t wait for the attention to calm down. Imogen was desperately craving her cherished peace and quiet. Alas. The things she did for love.

“Nosy or not, it’s kind of amazing how many people travel here just to catch a glimpse of Amelia Whitlock’s girlfriend,” Piper said in awe. “When will I, will I, be famous,” she sang.

“I am not famous,” Imogen said firmly.

“Hmm. You kinda are by association,” Niamh pointed out. “We’re not complaining. Look at how easy the bills have been to pay these past couple of weeks. And don’t forget we’re meeting with that guy next week to design our new sign for outside. That’s a big one to knock off our to-do list.”

It was a big one. Ever since they got there, they had wanted a sign that looked upscale and unique. One that made the Wishing Well stick in people’s minds. That meant it had to be designed properly, with no expense spared—and now they finally had enough funds to do it. Piper had already come up with a logo, and they were thinking maybe some gold swoopy letters for the name. Niamh in particular was partial to swoops. Imogen and Piper were amenable.

The door opened and Imogen glanced up. “Speaking of bills,” she murmured and subtly indicated the newcomer with a slant of her head.

None other than Edith McKinney approached the counter with a face on her that would make an onion cry. “Well, well, well. Look at all this.” She attempted a smile that looked mildly painful. “Busy little bees, aren’t we?”

“We sure are, Ms. McKinney,” Imogen said, injecting as much joy into her voice as she could muster. “What can we do for you?”

“I was just coming around to remind you that rent is due at the end of the week. Friday. Not a day later.”

Imogen wondered why she felt the need to remind them considering they hadn’t missed their rent payment once since they’d arrived. She suspected there was something else to the impromptu visit.

Edith slowly turned and glanced around the pub. “I must remember how well you’re doing when it comes to renewing the lease. Especially with all the upgrades.” Ah, there it was.

“Upgrades we’ve paid for ourselves,” Niamh said stepping in. “Respectfully,” she added when Edith stared her down.

Piper looked like she was about to burst at the seams. Imogen hoped that she didn’t. There was a way to handle the Edith McKinneys of the world, and it wasn’t with a smart mouth or a bad attitude.

“Hmm. We’ll see,” Edith said with a shark-like grin. “But you certainly are busy. Impressive. Very impressive.” She turned to leave again, making an obvious show of looking around as she slowly approached the door. “Friday,” she shouted back over her shoulder.

The three of them simultaneously blew out a huge sigh of relief once she’d gone and the door was firmly shut behind her. “That woman is a piece of work,” Imogen said.

“She’s rude, and mean, and she walks around with a face like a slapped arse,” Piper said grumpily. “Maybe I should have told her that.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Imogen said. “There’s no point in goading her. It would only make things worse.”

“I think that woman could start a fight with herself,” Niamh muttered.

That was probably true. Most people had told Imogen similar stories about Edith McKinney. From all accounts she was a money-hungry old bag with a gaping hole where her heart should be.

Piper lifted her hands in the air and dropped them down by her sides. “She can’t just put the rent up because she feels like it!”

“She can when the lease is up for renewal,” Niamh said with regret. “And she wouldn’t think twice about it.”

“Let’s not worry about Edith McKinney right now,” Imogen said encouragingly. “There’s no point in us getting up to high doh about something that hasn’t happened. And if she does follow through on her threat, then we’ll deal with it when the time comes. Just like we do everything. Together.”

Imogen put her fist forward and Piper and Niamh each bumped it with their own. They really were the best team. Edith McKinney might be difficult, but they could handle her. They could handle anything.

A few hours later, the Wishing Well was in full swing. The evening crowd had settled in. Most tables were filled with happy faces. Food and drinks were flowing. Upbeat music blasted through the pub, mixing with the sounds of clinking glasses, chatter, and laughter. The fire was blazing, doing a fine job of warming everyone up on what was turning out to be a wintery night.

Then a whole commotion erupted. People started jumping off their stools and rushing toward the door. Others climbed on top of chairs and whipped their phones out.