Page 30 of Once upon a Summer Night

Colin rubbed his temples, and Ellie dropped her head into her hands, her earlier bravado gone.

“I don’t want to become a tabloid feature story,” shemoaned. Through her fingers, she looked at her aunt in desperation. “Can you fix this?”

“I’ll try,” Winnie promised. “Until we have the bobbies over for a look, you can stay with me.”

Ellie nodded miserably as Gwen took her hand. She adored her flat; imagining what the police might do to it to uncover recording devices made her shudder.

Imagining a stranger in her home made her ill.

Colin gave Winnie’s address to the driver. Then, to Ellie, “We’ll take care of this and put you up somewhere, as per your contract.”

She stared at him blankly.

He sighed, then looked at Emma and held out his hand. She rifled through the bag on the floor and slapped a stack of papers into it, which he shoved at Ellie. “Here. Policies and procedures of Celtic Connections. You know. The ones you signed?”

Ellie bit her lip. “Right.”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “I used to never read the fine print, either,” she confessed. “Trust me. After one bad experience, you learn to read the fine print.”

“I beg you, please allow me be the one to tell Aidan you called him a bad experience,” Reilly implored. “I shall have the best chocolate delivered to you weekly if you just give me the pleasure…”

“Who said it had anything to do with Aidan?” she asked innocently.

“Who’s Aidan?” Ellie asked tentatively.

“My husband,” Emma said, at the same time Colin replied, “My cousin,” and Reilly grunted, “The biggest pain in my arse.”

“Well, that clarifies things,” Gwen replied dryly.

“We have a problem,” Emma said, her tone turning serious. Everyone’s head swiveled to see what she was staring at, and Ellie’s heart dropped all the way to her toes.

There, camped outside of her aunt’s home, were dozens of cameras. Television anchors practiced their stories, lighting was adjusted, and people everywhere were on cell phones.

“It’s no better at your flat,” Emma said softly, glancing at the TV again. Ellie’s building was on prominent display; one of her neighbors was giving an interview.

Ellie looked at her aunt with horror. “Not again,” she whispered. “Oh, God…”

Winnie straightened. “We need another plan. I promised Eleanor this wouldn’t become a spectacle, yet here we are. We need time for this to settle, for a scandal or some newsworthy event to take its place. Until then, you need to lay low.”

“What about your house in Ireland?” Gwen asked.

“That’s the first place they’ll look,” Winnie replied with a frown. “It’s not a widely-known fact that I have a home there, but it’s not exactly private knowledge, either.”

Ellie shook her head vehemently. “I have to work. I have to stay in London.”

“Where your every move will be recorded, photographed, and discussed at length?” Winnie scoffed, then softened her tone. “It’s your decision, dear. But, based on the past, I think it best if you retreat somewhere for the time being.” She sent a pointed stare at Colin. “Perhaps a month ought to do. It’s not safe here for you right now.”

Ellie thought back to that morning, when she’d first rolled out of bed. (Very well. She fell out, but Gwen was in the shower, so there wasn’t anyone to witness it, so she could call it what she liked.) The keys to her bookshop lay on the table, next to her cup of half-drunk coffee and mostly gone oatmeal. Her latest read, a brilliant historical by an as-yet-unknown writer, sat next to the dishes, a hair elastic used as a bookmark.

She expected to return home. She expected to have a couple of dates.

She stared at the growing circus outside her aunt’s home and covered her face.

She expected to return to her normal life.

Colin gently pulled her hands from her face, then leaned his elbows on his knees, his chiseled chin resting in his hands. His muscles were tense, straining his sleeves. His eyebrows slashed downwards—in concern or annoyance, Ellie couldn’t tell—and his mouth formed a slight frown. He was watching her, and she felt his gaze all the way to the depths of her soul.

She groaned.

---