‘Congrat… ulations,’ I manage, somehow making it sound like a question, which I’m not entirely sure it isn’t. But Quinn pays no heed to my uncertainty, just grins back at me while Fox and Emmy chirp matching congratulatory noises on either side of him. They’re practically bouncing with excitement.
It’s not that I’m not happy for Quinn, it’s just that he didn’t have a particularly stable home when he was a kid and he doesn’t always make the healthiest of choices in relationships.
Ok fine, I’m not happy for him. I’mworriedfor him.
I look over at Sammi, hoping she’ll be my fellow voice of reason here, but she just shrugs, her painted red lips curling into a smirk as she turns to Quinn. ‘Congrats, buddy.’
And then she turns to Lucy. ‘Samira Suleman,’ she says without missing a beat. She offers out her hand, and Lucy shakes it. ‘I manage this place. Best I can, anyway.’
‘Nice to meet you, Samira,’ Lucy says brightly. ‘I’m Lucy from theWhite Rose Gazette. I think you spoke to my boss on the phone?’
Sammi’s eyes widen in realisation and I don’t miss the way they dart to my hand on Lucy’s back for a second before snapping back up. ‘Of course. Lovely to meet you, Lucy,’ she says, her voice even and professional. ‘I can’t wait to read your article.’ And then she smiles and excuses herself, rushing off to do one of the million things on her to-do list, her parting gift a quick look in my direction– a look I seem to have seen a lot from her lately.
Be careful, it says.I’m watching.
But I can’t think for the life of me what I need to be careful of.
I’m still thinking about it as I step out of the door an hour later, zipping my leather jacket against the bite of the wind. It’s not quite closing time, but Emmy and Fox shooed me out early, volunteering to take care of closing and cleaning down. Not to mention that, with both Quinn and Sammi staying in the flat, there are more than enough people around to take care of business.
‘You just focus on getting Lucy home safely,’ Fox said, smiling broadly at her new best friend before throwing a cheekywink my way. I glared at her in response, of course, but I couldn’t help the little rush of excitement that rattled through me at the very idea.
I can still feel the buzz of it now. It’s pretty quiet up Flowergate at this time, though I can just vaguely hear the buzz of the harbour front, music and chatter carrying on the stiff sea breeze. I hear Lucy pull in a breath beside me and turn to see her looking down the hill, towards the water.
‘I think in another life I’d like to live beside the sea,’ she says in a faraway voice, blonde waves whipping to and fro in the gusts.
I frown. ‘Not in this life?’
‘I don’t know.’ She looks a moment longer before turning her focus to me, a soft smile playing at her lips. ‘Maybe.’ Her brows pinch as she studies me, and it feels like she wants to say more, but then in a moment her energy changes entirely. ‘You grew up here?’ she asks, and I nod.
‘Until I was twenty. Then I moved away for a bit.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘I got into music college in Leeds. Didn’t last more than a term, but I met some good people and started a band. With Dean, if you can believe that.’
It’s a tough ask not to grit my teeth as I say his name, but I do my best. I don’t mention Elias, the other member of the band. Not yet. And I definitely don’t mention the way that band ended. That’s something I’m not ready to share.
‘You and Dean?’ Lucy asks, eyes wide. I thought I’d done a pretty good job of concealing my animosity towards him in the interview, but then I remember I straight up called him a dick not one hour ago.
Whatever, I stand by it.
I breathe out a laugh that the breeze snatches away. ‘We were better friends back then.’
I thought we were, anyway. But friends don’t sleep with friends’ fiancées. My mouth pulls into a grimace, and this time I can’t hide it.
Lucy studies me for a moment. If she notices my face, she doesn’t let on. ‘Were you any good?’
‘Yeah, we were, actually.’ I smile, the thought of what could have been haunting me even all these years later. ‘Almost signed a record deal at one point, but’—I shrug—‘there was a lot going on. The short answer is that we crashed and burned, and I ended up back here.’
The long answer is that my mum was diagnosed right before we were about to sign, and I walked away from the deal, and the band, to look after her.
Elias forgave me in a heartbeat.
Dean didn’t.
Lucy is still watching me, those blue eyes trained on mine. ‘In Whitby?’
My smile is tighter than I’d like. ‘Of course. It’s home.’