Page 44 of Play On

“Oh yes,” I say, absently rubbing my hand across my nose as it itches. “Just lost in thought.”

“Are you sure? You look sad,” she says, her voice soft.

“Do I? Oh no, I promise I’m not.” I force a cheerful smile on my face. Bella is a new friend. The last thing I want to do is burden her with my problems, or worse, paint the picture that I’m an incompetent flake. Especially after hearing how much she regards Carlee for being so driven and smart.

“Well, I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I want you to know you can always talk to me about anything, okay?”

She’s so sincere and kind, I’m nearly tempted to take her up on her offer.

Nearly.

“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

I look around the room for anything else that might need to be packed up.

“Are we ready?” Bella asks.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Just let me wash my hands before we leave. You know how kids are,” she says. “I’ve learnt this since becoming a working royal. You will get sick if you don’t do this.”

I freeze. I forgot to wash my hands after touching Ava’s crayons.

I just touched my nose.

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

“Um, yes, good idea,” I say, trying to convince myself that the odds of me getting sick are very small.

Minute, probably.

I need a plan to ward this off. I wash my hands after Bella and vow that as soon as we’re in the car, I’m going to google things to prevent sickness. Does orange juice work? Or is that a myth?

Either way, I’ll chug it and do whatever else is suggested.

Because I have a hot date with Noah on Friday. And I’m not going to miss it.

* * *

I push my trolley around the shop, loading up on everything I could find on how to ward off a cold. I had Bella’s driver drop me at the supermarket near my house, and I’ll do my shopping and walk home.

So far I have vitamin C, vitamin D, and zinc in my trolley. Ironically, honey was listed as something to improve respiratory symptoms, so score another point for my beehive and thegoodness of bees. I also know I need to hydrate like mad, so I bought some fresh oranges to slice up and add to my water.

I should get some lozenges just in case I get a sore throat, I muse. I turn my trolley around and head towards the aisle with the medications and cold remedies. As I do, my phone buzzes inside my bag. It’s a text from Noah, and as soon as I see his name, a little thrill jolts through me. I swipe open his message:

I hope everything went well this afternoon and the kids loved your project, but I’m pretty sure I know they did.

I stop pushing my trolley so I can text him back:

The event was a success and lots of paper snails were made. Thank you for asking.

Noah Darby is typing …

I resume pushing my trolley whilst he sends another message to me. I reach the lozenges and study my options. Hmm. Lemon and honey. Blackcurrant. Cherry. I suppose I should get a strong one with menthol for the worst-case scenario. Not that I’m going to get sick—BECAUSE I AM NOT—this is just being prepared. Oh, I’d better get tissues, too. I go back to that aisle and add some of those to my trolley, and then I think I’m ready to check out.

I go to the self-checkout lanes and find one open. I’m nearly finished scanning my items when my phone buzzes again. I retrieve my phone as I’m on my way out of the supermarket and glance down at the screen. It’s another message from Noah:

Guess what I’m doing? I’m looking for a place to rent in Dorset for next weekend.

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