Page 126 of Valentine Nook
“Hey, Agatha,” Clemmie says.
“Hello, Clementine, my dear, your heart’s still brooding, I see. It won’t for much longer.”
“Thanks, but I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t need to,” Agatha replies haughtily.
My head snaps to Clemmie because I haven’t known her to brood over anything. She’s never mentioned a guy to me, and I’m so distracted that I don’t notice Agatha reaching for my hand before it’s too late.
“You must be Holiday.”
I nod eventually. “Yes.”
As she stares at me, her eyes lose focus. “I’ve been waiting for you to come and see me?—”
I snatch my hand away and turn to Clemmie, whose mouth is pursed tight. She wasn’t kidding when she said Agatha was intense. I’ve been in here a minute, and I already know I can’t bear the idea of her telling me that things happen for a reason, or I’m doing the right thing, or love will find me again.
It feels like that’s exactly what she’s going to do.
In the end, she says, “Perhaps Orlando will see sense soon.” I have no fucking clue what that means.
Clemmie tugs on my arm. “Good to see you, Agatha. We’re going to look around.”
“As you wish. I just took delivery of some new crystals you might like. They’re in the corner.”
“Thanks.”
As much as Agatha might be a little kooky, the store is beautiful. We spend far longer than I expected to in here, but there’s so much stuff. In the end, I buy a pink tourmaline and rosegold pendant, which promises to connect to my heart and help me receive love and joy. God knows I need it.
I also buy one for Clemmie because I’m going to miss her just as much.
As I’m paying, Agatha drops in a bottle of Full Moon Protection Spray along with a twisted posy of sage and palo santo, and tells me she’ll see me soon. I don’t have the energy to correct her.
We leave as a group of girls enters the store, and it only takes one to ask, “Are you Holiday Simpson?” before they’re all requesting selfies.
I agree on one condition—that Clemmie is also in the photos.
I don’t know why I did it, but I do know these pictures are going up on social media because this is myreallife. Where I’m famous enough that people want any tiny piece of me they can get, so they can then brag about it.
And somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, I think that if Clemmie’s in them with me, it means there’s evidence that for a little while, my life here was real, too.
CHAPTER 26
Lando
Inormally don’t like wearing a masquerade mask, but hiding behind it for a few hours tonight has made it easier to pretend I’m happy.
We’ve drunk, we’ve danced, and we’ve raised a lot of money. Holiday’s contribution—the opportunity to join her on a photo shoot—went for thirty thousand pounds to a hedge fund guy I work with as a present for his daughter’s eighteenth birthday.
I’ve shaken hands, I’ve hosted the auction, and I’ve worked the room.
And all the while I’ve kept one eye on the clock, ticking down until the very last second before Holiday has to leave, hoping it might slow time. It hasn’t.
Witching hour is fast approaching, and I feel like I’ve barely seen her all evening.
Even now, when I have a moment unbothered by people wanting to come and talk to me, Clemmie’s dragged her away to the dance floor to introduce her to some friends before she says goodbye to everyone she’s met.
Watching her smile and laugh at everyone who’s not me isinfuriating. It’s what has me wrapping my fingers tightly around my whiskey glass when all I want to do is hold her hand and cling on for dear life.
