Page 96 of Never Date a Celebrity

“The worst kept secret ever,” Imogen added with a sigh. Busy was always great, but busy also meant it would be hours until she and Amy got any time alone. Such was the life of a successful pub owner.

Piper pointed to Amy. “Don’t you even think about sneaking upstairs again like last week. Once you’ve satisfied all your adoring fans with selfies and smiles, you’ll be pitching in to help.” Thankfully, Piper no longer turned into a flustered disaster around her.

“Put me to work,” Amy said happily. “Imogen taught me all about cheese arranging and salami logistics. Though once you start with the newer, more complicated stuff, I may struggle.”

“There’s not that much more,” Imogen said reassuringly. With demand higher than ever these days, they’d had to expand the menu a bit. They still tried to keep it simple, so their options were now extended to platters, pizzas, and pies. All the good Ps. Along with One Pint Willy’s beloved stew, of course. Now a staple of the Wishing Well menu, no matter the season.

“Speaking of—the new menu boards look great,” Amy said, eyeing them beside the bar. She didn’t let go of Imogen’s hand when she walked over to study them, so Imogen trailed along and admired them too.

“You like them? The lettering is all very matchy with our style.” That’s right, they had a style now. Contemporary classic, they liked to call it.

Imogen took a moment to look around and take in everything they had managed to achieve in the Wishing Well in the past year. Some of the original features were still there. The stone fireplace—an integral part of the pub. After all, traditional was still very much a part of their vision.

With that in mind, they had kept the wooden beams that criss-crossed the white stone ceiling. The original floors were there, just sanded and revarnished by their own fair hands—that had been a week. Some of the wood panelling on the walls remained, though now painted. They’d stuck with the quirky signs on the walls too. In fact, they’d added even more over the past year. Funny slogans and ridiculous sayings that customers—especially the newbies—always seemed to get a kick out of.

But there had been changes too. Upgrades. All the tables and chairs were new. A mixture of vintage and modern, booths and bistro style. They had also redesigned the bar itself—a major improvement. Gone was the dull mahogany lined with its shabby stools. In its place was a rebuilt, fashionable bar that wouldn’t look out of place in one of the trendier bars in Belfast with its chic design and fabulous downlights. The new stools were smooth green velvet, and actually comfortable to sit in, unlike a lot of barstools.

It looked like a pub you’d want to spend time in—and people did. Hail, rain, or shine. It was cosy, welcoming, but a wee bit snazzy too.

She smiled and turned to Amy. “Do you fancy a dander before it gets busy?”

“I would love to,” Amy said, gripping her hand. “I’ve missed Ballyluck, especially after being stuck in the hustle and bustle of London all week. I’d like to enjoy the peace and quiet for a few minutes.”

“Be careful,” Niamh called out after them. “Connor is still adamant he’s going to show you his new stamps when he sees you, Amelia. He’s added quite a few to his collection. I know, because I’ve been shown in great detail. He says there are some American ones in there that you would die for.”

Amy grimaced. “Oh wow. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh, and, guys? While you’re out could you pick up some more firecracker jam off Sally?” Piper shouted over. “And not one of your big walks, Immy. Bookings start in an hour.”

“Yes, boss,” Imogen replied, giving her a sarcastic salute—which was met with a dirty look and the finger.

They pushed out the front door and Imogen took a breath. “Just us. Finally.”

Well, almost just them. They waved over at the two bodyguards stationed in the car across from the Wishing Well—they’d be a lot busier once word spread that Amelia Whitlock was back home. Amy’s security team were now a permanent fixture. Her ever-rising fame made it a necessity for both of their safety. Mainly Amy’s. Imogen might not be famous, but she did make it to some fancy red carpet events these days—talk about self-growth.

Unfortunately, there was no Steve on the security team these days—he was back home with his wife. But the new guys were good too. They tried not to encroach on their space too much, and Amy had a panic button if she needed them. Such was the new normal.

“Just us is my absolute favourite,” Amy said, leaning over to kiss Imogen’s cheek. “Although I love your friends too. They’re special.”

“As much as you love me?” Imogen replied, playfully bumping Amy’s hip with her own. It made her happy that Amy cared about Piper and Niamh too. She knew the feeling was mutual. Amy was a welcome addition to their group. Their family, really.

Amy pulled Imogen closer and wrapped an arm around her and kept it there as they walked. “As if I could ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

As they strolled past the well, Amy stopped and gave it a little pat with her gloved hand. “Thanks, well.”

Imogen laughed. “Did you really just thank the well?”

Amy lifted a shoulder. “I always do it. It granted my wish for you so I’m eternally grateful to that well, I’ll have you know.”

In that case. “Thanks, well,” Imogen called out behind her. When she turned around Amy was staring at her knowingly. “What?”

“You’re thanking the well. Which means your wish must have come true.”

“Yeah, it did,” Imogen said. “And?”

“And you never told me what your wish was,” Amy said. She lifted her eyebrows in question.

“Because it’s against the rules.”