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I reached over and pushed ‘stop’ on Janey’s tape recorder and turned to her. “Saturday then?” She coughed in surprise. “What happens Saturday?” “We conclude the interview. You need to see a football match firsthand or your article is going to sound like a bunch of amateurish gibberish. You want to be taken seriously?” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Yes.” “So do I. Saturday at noon at Stade Jean-Marc. We’ll finish the interview after.” “Antoine wants the article in two days,” she said. “Tell Antoine I said to wait.” She took another long pull from the lemonade, her pride not letting her say yes to me so quickly. “Saturday then,” she said. “For the article.” “Right,” I said, holding her gaze. “For the article.” She finished off the lemonade and set the glass down. “Thank you very much, Sophie. It was just what I needed.” She gathered her belongings and turned to me. “See you.” “You have a drop of lemonade on your chin,” I said. “Where?” Her hand flew to her mouth. “No, I don’t…” I held out the cocktail napkin with my sketch of her, my brow raised. Janey dropped her hand from her dry chin, fuming. I expected her to flounce away. But she snatched the napkin out of my hand, dropped it into her bag, and coolly walked away. I wasn’t in love with her, but in that moment, I knew someday I would be.
Emma Scott is a bestselling author of emotional, character-driven romances in which art and love intertwine to heal, and in which love always wins. If you enjoy thoughtful, realistic stories with diverse characters and kind-hearted heroes, you will enjoy my novels.