Page 7 of A New Chance

"Oi, watch out!" called a voice, snapping Charlotte back to reality just in time to sidestep a puddle that threatened to soak her shoes.

"Sorry," she mumbled, cheeks flushing at her near-mishap. The stranger grinned good-naturedly before continuing on his way on an old-fashioned bike, leaving Charlotte to wonder if her fate was always going to be to regularly fall into some sort of water or other here in Chesham. At least Simon’s friends weren’t here to give her a teasing this time.

As Charlotte rounded the corner that led to the food market, her heart swelled with excitement as she thought about the evening ahead. She had invited Simon over for dinner, and she was determined to impress him by preparing an authentic English meal. With each step she took toward the quaint grocery store in Chesham Cove, her energy surged. This was her chance to show Simon how much she appreciated him and his support since her arrival in the charming coastal town.

The bell above the door jingled as Charlotte entered the store, greeted by a cornucopia of fresh produce. The vibrant colors seemed to dance before her eyes – ripe red tomatoes, crisp green lettuce, and a rainbow of bell peppers that sparkled under warm, ambient lighting.

It was easy to become lost in the beauty of the store, which felt more like a canvas to Charlotte's artistic soul than a simple market. The wooden shelves, worn smooth by years of use, held jars filled with preserves, pickles, and other traditional English fare. Baskets overflowed with root vegetables and tender greens, their earthy scent mingling with the sweet perfume of ripe fruits.

As Charlotte walked down the aisles, the tide of her thoughts ebbed and flowed, carrying her between her determination to make a memorable meal for Simon and confusion at some of the unfamiliar ingredients.

"Can I help you find something, luv?" the shopkeeper asked, her voice warm and lilting, like a soft breeze rustling through the leaves of a tree.

"Um, yes," Charlotte replied, her New York accent a stark contrast to the woman's gentle tone. "I'm looking for ingredients to make a traditional English dinner. I want it to be perfect."

"Ah, well, that’d be the way to his heart, you think? said the shopkeeper, her eyes twinkling with delight. She nudged Charlotte good-naturedly.

“What?”

“Simon, down’t the pier. I mean, most men love a good dinner, right?”

Does everyone in this town know about us? Charlotte thought. It’s been one date!

The women didn’t wait for Charlotte’s reply. "I’ll guide you like I’m yer mum. Let me help."

The woman walked with Charlotte down the aisles, just as George had at the hardware store, and she helped Charlotte carefully select each ingredient for her special meal. Charlotte’s eyes scanned the shelves as the clerk picked a jar of locally-sourced pickled onions, a prime cut of tender beef, and an assortment of fresh root vegetables. Her fingers lingered on a small tin of traditional English mustard, its sharp tanginess tickling Charlotte’s nose even through the sealed container. The anticipation of seeing Simon's reaction to her culinary masterpiece sent a thrill down her spine.

"Look at him, acting all high and mighty," the shop helper’s hushed voice caught Charlotte's attention, pulling her from her thoughts. Charlotte glanced up, her gaze drawn to a well-dressed man standing near the cheeses. Thomas Windnell – it had to be. This must be the rich London developer that The Crown’s previous owner—Marge—had told Charlotte about. His polished demeanor and designer clothes were a stark contrast to the rustic charm of Chesham Cove's residents.

"Thinks he can just waltz in here and change everything," a man who had suddenly stopped beside the clerk whispered harshly. Charlotte couldn't help but let her curiosity get the better of her, straining to hear more while pretending to study a bag of flour.

"Can you believe he wants to tear down the old gristmill?" the clerk continued, her tone dripping with disdain. "That place is part of our history."

"Another one of his fancy developments, no doubt," the man spat. "He doesn't care about preserving this town's heritage."

Charlotte's heart raced as she listened, her hands gripping the basket tighter. She wondered what Thomas Windnell's intentions were, and how they might affect her own plans for The Old Crown Inn. Despite her initial dislike of the man, based on what her new acquaintances seemed to think, she couldn't shake the sense of intrigue that now surrounded him.

"Excuse me," she murmured. “I’m going to look at the dessert case.” Moving past the whispering pair and toward the checkout counter, Charlotte tried to covertly scope out Thomas.

Suddenly, Thomas Windnell's gaze met hers, and his eyes flickered with recognition.

Oh no! Her face flamed with embarrassment.

Suddenly, Windnell strode toward her with an air of confidence that seemed out of place based on the fact that they were strangers.

"Ah, Miss Moore," he said smoothly, his voice devoid of the warmth she'd come to expect from the people of Chesham Cove. "I’ve heard so much about you. I wanted to come over and introduce myself to the woman who is going to push the impossible rock of The Crown up a hill.”

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Windnell," Charlotte replied cautiously, her hands gripping the handle of her basket tightly. “I’m surprised that you know who I am.”

His eyes flashed momentarily—he seemed surprised that she knew who he was.

"Well, Chesham folks do talk, and your accent is unmistakably American. Please, call me Thomas," he continued, "I feel it's my duty, as someone who knows this town well, to offer you some friendly advice.”

Charlotte felt the eyes of the clerk and the man who had stopped to gossip with her on the pair of her and Windell as he leaned close.

“You really should reconsider your decision to renovate that old house. Chesham Cove is changing, and I fear you may be in over your head."

His condescending tone ignited a spark of defiance within Charlotte. She lifted her chin, determined not to let him see how much his words had affected her.

---