Incapable (Love Triumphs 3)

Hamish clapped his hands. “Jolly

good show.”

Their food landed and the waitress thought the clapping was for her.

Georgia waited till she moved away and said, “Bastard.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. He gave me the royal shove off and I don’t want to know about him.”

“So you’re not in love with him at all.”

“I am…what?” There was a trick here and she wasn’t getting it.

“If you were in love with him, you’d take another shot at this. You’d at least talk to the man.”

She looked at her sandwich. Hamish’s meal was more appealing. Why did you always want what you couldn’t have? “He could talk to me.”

“Poxy bastard.”

“That’s not helpful, you saying that.”

“Isn’t it? Fancy.”

“Oh God, Hamish. I need to get over this man. I think I’ve got a better chance doing that here than at home where everything will remind me of him.”

“Sounds like a piss poor plan, but if that’s what you want.”

“Piss poor?”

“You used to know how to fix things.”

“I stopped being that girl a long time ago.” So long ago she’d lost the knack for it. She’d not known how to help Damon, she’d failed Taylor. And that night, Damon tried to self-destruct and Fluffy died, Jamie had worn his tattooed heart on his sleeve looking for advice, and she’d dodged the opportunity.

“I loved that fixer girl. What happened to me wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t fix me. I need to keep saying that because you don’t believe me. It never was your fault, but I spent years making you feel guilty. I have no idea why you give me the time of day. Rather, yes I do. You’re a nice person. You care, far too much if you ask me, about all sorts of pillocks and plonkers. And your fellow is not someone you should write off so easily. I’ve looked him up.”

“You looked Damon up?”

“Of course I did. I am an expert stickybeak librarian, as you well know. He’s big time. The Voice. And he’s blind. Something you didn’t think to mention. Didn’t think I’d be interested in, hmm?”

“It’s…” Hamish talked right over the word complicated.

“You know they’ve just released a blooper reel from that dystopian pirate blockbuster thing. He’s bloody funny. Not his pirate character, but in the blooper reel. He’s making other people screw up their lines, or he’s saving them in this like majorly self-deprecating way, where he pretends it’s his fault, not in the least bit a humble-brag. And I would know.”

“Why are you stalking Damon?”

“Because you’re not. And I know you want to. And because huge gossip, and mad researcher skills, and time and stickybeak. He’s one of the super disabled. Wins awards. Travels the world. Gets the girl. I’m quite jealous of him.”

“He didn’t get the girl and he lost his voice.”

“Ohh, now there’s a secret. What do you mean lost? Like chronic laryngitis?”

“Polyps. He had surgery. It was supposed to be routine. But I don’t think it went as expected. He wouldn’t talk about it. He stopped talking much at all.”

“So not in La La land recording then?”

“Probably not.”