Right Number, Wrong Girl

She stared at me for a long moment, and I couldn’t help but notice that her hazel eyes erred a little more on the side of green. “Oh, all right,” she finally said. “But only because I like you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT – SOPHIE

The Great Cake-astrophe… Almost

“Well, it’s a bit of a mish-mashed version of the menus,” I said, staring at our one.

I think she’d taken one thing from all the set menus, but this was what she was insisting upon. I wasn’t even sure the menus could be modified this much. I also didn’t think Evelyn would accept anything less than her version, which put me in a really shitty position.

I was sure that Camilla would have been able to talk her into using a correct menu. I was also sure that she would know exactly what to do right now in this situation.

Me?

Not so much.

“That’s the menu I want,” Evelyn said. “And I’m not changing my mind.”

“I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Make it possible. I’m not changing my mind.”

I’d heard that bit the first time, but the second one really rammed it home.

“She won’t change her mind,” Hugo said from the doorway. “If you couldn’t tell.”

Evelyn glared at him. “Is someone coming to clear these tea trays? I need a nap. And a snack. I’m hungry now.”

“Rupert is in the kitchen. I have to run into the village to get some stuff for Dad.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He got everything he needed this morning with me.”

Hugo shrugged. “Now he needs more, and he says I’m loitering, so I don’t have a choice.”

“You? Loiter? Never. Are you even safe to drive with your hangover?”

“I do not have a hangover.”

“You did this morning.”

“That was this morning. I’m fine to drive now.” He turned to me. “I don’t see a car outside. Did you drive here?”

I paused. “No. I cycled.”

“You cycled?”

Evelyn snorted, getting up. “People do use things other than cars to get around, you know. Back in my day, cars were for the rich.”

Hugo slid her a look. “You were the rich. You are the rich.”

“Good point. Never mind, then.” She winked at me, adding a cheeky grin to it, and walked towards the door. “I trust you’ll be taking Camilla back to her cottage.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I said, right as Hugo said, “I won’t be passing there.”

Evelyn stopped dead in front of him and craned her neck to look up at him. “It wasn’t a request, Hugo.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Understood.”

“That’s what I thought.” She tapped his leg with her stick, and he stepped aside to let her pass.