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A coffee and delicious pastry later, Charlotte had stopped fuming. Or at least, she’d relegated the powerful emotions to her ‘later’ mental file.

“Does he call every woman ‘missy’?” she wiped her fingers on a napkin.

“No. But he generally finds something derogatory. We tend to ignore it, like you did. May I have that cupcake? I am ravenous!”

Charlotte pushed the box across. “Thanks for these. I’m sure Esther was touched with the box you got her.”

“She’s rattled, Charlie. And who can blame her? I can’t recall crime like that…well, not for a long time. I wish Sid took it seriously.”

“Yup. Not a question about the make or colour of the ute. Much more interested in my previous employment.”

Rosie finished a mouthful, her expression annoyed. “None of his business. You’re going to be a local, so he can take his questions and—”

“Rosie!” Charlotte giggled. “It’s okay, I can handle him.”

But could she? What if he did dig around in her past, particularly back to her life in Queensland? There were things she wasn’t proud of, and whilst she’d never broken the law, some people believed she’d done something just as bad. Probably they were correct.

“Where’s that smile? That doughnut won’t eat itself.”

With a fake sigh, Charlotte picked it up and looked at it from every angle. “Your son once asked me if I was a runner.”

“Did he now?”

“I scoffed. Running requires a commitment to pain I just can’t find. But…” she moved the doughnut close to her lips. “Many more of these and I’ll have to take it up.”

“He’ll be thrilled. Give him yet another thing in common with you.” Rosie laughed as Charlotte almost choked on her bite of yumminess. “Have another. I’ll go and buy more.”

She might have joked around at the time, but the memory of the whole conversation with Trev followed Charlotte around all afternoon. She remembered it so well.

It was the day before the wedding of her best friend, Christie. Charlotte was at the end of the jetty in River’s End, a place most people seemed to gravitate to when they wanted to think. Or propose. Even break up.

She’d sat there for a while, reading, but also gazing at the ocean as the smell of sea air filled her senses. Trev was running on the beach. He’d gone up and down a couple of times before spotting her. Or at least, that’s what she thought. They hadn’t seen each other since getting back from visiting Rosie, and the series of problems he’d had to solve.

He’d stepped onto the jetty and stopped. Perhaps he didn’t want to intrude.

“It’s a public jetty.” she called over her shoulder. A moment later, he was beside her. They did some small talk and she’d tried not to focus on his good physique.

Trev wriggled into a T-shirt and asked her if she was a runner.

“Not unless I have somewhere urgent to go to.” She wanted him to believe that was the only time, but she did run sometimes. When things got too hard.

“You look like you do. Run.” He said.

“Hot and sweaty? I’m teasing.” She’d replied. “I have lucky genes. At least where body shape is concerned.”

“What about the rest of your genes?” his question was innocent, banter, but it cut deep in a part of her she kept from herself, let alone anyone else. He hadn’t noticed, but her fingers had gone straight to the elasticized bracelet she wore, worrying at it rather than say the wrong thing.

She’d changed the subject and things got awkward. They’d walked along the river that went through a rift in the cliffs. As they’d reached the road, Trev had found something to say. As if trying to put things right that really couldn’t be.

“I spoke to Mum last night. She said to pass on her regards.”

And that was when it hit her. What could be better than starting over because she wanted to, not because she was running away?

She’d asked about Rosie’s bookshop being online. A thousand ideas flooded her mind to make it competitive in a market dominated by the big box stores. The more she talked about it, her enthusiasm rising, the more crestfallen Trev seemed.

“Are you okay?” she’d finally asked. “Does it make you sad talking about this?”

He’d encouraged her to follow her heart. It wasn’t as though they were together, or even dating. But there was a certain something, a bond of sorts. And she missed him.

Whatever would he think about Sid?

Chapter Six

The flood of customers through the bookshop seemed never ending. By the time Saturday closing came, Rosie looked as tired as Charlotte felt. Her feet ached, back hurt, and never in her life had she talked so much. Particularly not small talk.

“Enjoy tomorrow.” Rosie went out through the back door, with Charlotte locking it behind them both. “Take the day to enjoy a rest.”

“How far away do you live?” Charlotte walked around to the front of the store along a narrow driveway.

They stopped outside the bookshop.

“Only two blocks. I have a car but keep it for longer excursions. And shopping. Tomorrow I intend to start planning Christmas Day. You will come for dinner?”

A flutter of nerves played in Charlotte’s stomach. “Oh, um, I hadn’t given Christmas any thought.”

Rosie smiled. “Exactly what I thought. Darling, you don’t need to come along because I invite you. If you prefer a day to yourself, then take it. But I would love the company. I do enjoy Christmas, very much. You don’t even have to let me know in advance, I’ll text you my address and you can drop in anytime.”

“Oh, thank you. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“As if you ever could be.”

With a wave, Rosie turned the wheelchair and picked up speed. Charlotte’s stomach settled, warmth replacing the flutters. She was unaccustomed to the kindness shown to her in the past year. Until River’s End, she’d had colleagues and some close acquaintances, but never a real friend, the type who’d stand by you when you made big mistakes.

And

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