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People like Ashley couldn’t be more wrong.
For a moment, Evie felt sorry for her narrow, uneducated opinion, but then Ashley threw a dismissive smirk toward two twenty-somethings hauling in their morning’s catch on their boat, and a bolt of revulsion ripped through her.
“Ash, I’ll meet you by the picnic tables, okay?” Nick motioned across the closed street, toward the seating area in front of the bronze statue of Dr. John Rae, an Orcadian-born surgeon and Arctic explorer. “I’ll ring wardrobe shortly.” Stealing a sip of coffee, he faced Evie again.
“Right…” Ashley retreated a few steps but lingered on the periphery, eyes on her phone.
Nick resumed their conversation. “So, like I said, I’m fine. Please don’t be hard on yourself. If anything, your quick thinking saved me.”
“Uh, hello?!” Ashley twisted her lips, begging to differ. “Nick, you saw my email?”
Closing his eyes for a beat, he dipped his chin. “Ash, would you please drop it? Things are done differently over here. We don’t ring the lawyers every time there’s a minor hiccup.”
Lawyers…? Evie swallowed hard.
“Now please, call wardrobe and find out what they need.” Nick’s pointed stare hopped across to the picnic tables, delivering a simple, non-verbal request.
Letting out a defeated huff, Ashley wandered toward the statue.
Nick rubbed his forehead. “Sorry about that.”
An apology, but not the one Evie’s heart yearned for. She looked down and adjusted her apron. “Thank you for not taking this any further.”
“Never crossed my mind.” He smiled warmly, his focus dipping to the hand she held against her abdomen. “How’s the injury?”
“Much better.”
“Good. Well, I better see what wardrobe wants. Last time they wanted to discuss knickerbockers.”
“Sounds right up your alley,” said Evie.
“Whoa, I’m not that much of a fashion victim, am I?” With a grin, he raised his hand in farewell and set off across the road.
Evie stepped up into the truck, finding Sunita hovering around the doorjamb.
“Sorry!” She cringed. “Journo habit.”
“It’s fine. It’s good to have a witness.”
“Nick taking the blame”—Sunita blew out her lips—“I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither. I thought I was done for.” Evie inched past. “And what’s up with that Ashley? You can tell she hates it here.”
“Her loss.” Sunita adjusted her hairnet. “Evie, if it’s fine with you, I’d like to help a bit longer.”
She moved the empty oatmeal pot to the sink. “You’re actually enjoying this?”
“Yeah. And I’m owed loads of time, so…I booked off through August.”
Eyes widening, Evie abandoned the taps. “I’d love if you stayed on!” Throwing her arms around Sunita’s shoulders, she rocked back and forth. “Thank you!”
Sunita lifted her chin. “Oh, before I forget…”
Evie let go.
“…you got a text.”
Evie picked her phone up from the counter and opened her messages. “It’s Caleb. He heard about my hand. Feels terrible.”
