When Olivia walked up to Mark & Maude’s, Connie from the next-door boutique was standing in her doorway. When she saw Olivia, pound signs flashed in her eyes and she pointed at the blouse in the window. Olivia gave her a panicked smile and broke into a jog to get into the cafe before Connie snagged her into conversation — but when she got to the doorway, she stopped dead.

Somebody was putting a For Sale sign in the window. A dog-eared, home-made For Sale sign that looked like it’d seen better days.

Mark & Maude’s was for sale? Rosie had told her things were bad, but she didn’t think they were that bad.

Was she too late to help? Not if she could help it.

She ran a hand through her carefully styled hair — she’d had a shower and given herself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror before she left — and pushed open the door. She found herself looking down into Rosie’s unsure, nervous gaze. She clutched a small roll of Sellotape in her right hand.

“What’s all this?” Olivia said, pointing at the For Sale sign. “I thought you were going to give yourself more time?”

Rosie let go a sigh. “Sometimes, the answer just presents itself and you know it’s the right thing to do.”

Olivia wasn’t convinced. “But this is your mum and dad’s place.”

Rosie put a hand on Olivia’s forearm and looked into her eyes. “And that’s just it — it’s their place. Like I was just telling Aunt Hilary, it’ll always be theirs, never mine. And it might not happen overnight, but I need to move on, make a new start.” She squeezed Olivia’s arm. “Pot of tea and a full English?”

Olivia nodded, a slight frown still creasing her face. “The greasier, the better.”

As Rosie went to leave, Olivia touched her arm again, glancing around the near-empty cafe. At nearly lunchtime, she could see why Rosie thought it was a lost cause. “Have you got time to have a quick cup of tea with me?” After yesterday and then this, she wanted to see if Rosie was okay.

Rosie’s mouth twitched; then she nodded. “Sure. I’ll just go tell Gina.”

Olivia sat at her usual table, as Hilary drew up beside her, her face drawn. “Do you mind?” She set down a pot of tea and two mugs and indicated the seat opposite.

Olivia nodded and sat up. The family matriarch was asking for an audience; when that happened, she listened. “Please, have a seat.”

“I won’t stay long,” Hilary replied, drumming her fingers on the table before bringing her eyes up to meet Olivia’s. “This time of year is always hard. Rosie thought about selling last year, but this time she seems more determined.” She paused. “Can you have a word with her? She seems to listen to you. I just don’t want her to make a mistake she regrets in the future.”

Olivia nodded. “I don’t, either.” She reached over and patted Hilary’s arm. “Leave it with me.”

Satisfied, Hilary got up.

Rosie returned, and Hilary gave her a hug, poured them both a mug of tea, then bustled off.

“A lot’s gone on since last night,” Olivia said — for her and Rosie both. Rosie didn’t even know the bombshell that had been dropped on Olivia this morning about the wedding and Jemima’s indiscretions — and she couldn’t ever know.

A wave of hopelessness washed over Olivia, but she pushed it away.

Rosie gave her a resigned look, casting her gaze around the cafe. “It’s hardly jumping, is it? Not exactly a hotbed of cafe life. We’re losing money, and I can’t keep repeating the same story. But on top of that, Amy’s behaviour last night, and meeting you and all the places you’ve been has made me feel very… small town. Like I need to get out, live a little. I can’t hang around here, limping on forever.”

Living in such a small town sounded ideal to Olivia, but the grass was always greener. They both wanted a simpler life, but their situations couldn’t be more different. The struggling cafe owner and the princess. It sounded like a straight-to-TV rom-com.

“I get it, but you also need to see it from where I’m sitting.” Olivia sat forward, taking a sip of her tea. “You make great tea, by the way — a staple of cafe life but not always a given.”

Rosie leaned forward, giving Olivia a conspiratorial smile. “Yorkshire Tea. It’s our top-secret ingredient.”

Olivia grinned. “My mother’s favourite, too.” She slapped herself — they weren’t here to talk about her family.

Rosie sat back. “So, tell me how you see it. Because I see it as tired decor plus no customers equals sell the place.”

“But you have it in your power to change that.” Olivia cocked her head. “You have a great chef, right?”

“The best.”

“But you’re not making the most of her.” Olivia hoped she wasn’t overstepping the mark here, but she wanted to help.

“I’m not?” Rosie’s tone was cool.

“No. I agree you need to give this place a facelift — not that hard, some bold colours, some new crockery and cutlery, new branding.”

“Branding?” Rosie rolled her eyes. “Now you’re sounding very London.”

Olivia gave her a grin. “Maybe you need a bit of London to survive, seeing as the tourists pouring in this summer will be from there.” She paused. “Anyway, facelift, and then here’s my grand plan: a new summer menu and,” she paused for added effect, “evening opening with a small but brilliant menu. A few candles on the tables, and you can charge more for the food. Plus, Gina will be happier not just cooking fry-ups and pasties.” She winced. “Even though the pasties are delicious.”

Rosie folded her arms across her chest, regarding Olivia sceptically. “Are you Gordon Ramsay in disguise, giving me a restaurant makeover?”

Olivia spluttered. “I hope I’ve got a smaller chin than him.”

Rosie let out a bark of laughter. “You’re way less obnoxious, too.” She paused. “But seriously, why are you so hell-bent on helping me? What’s in it for you?”

Olivia shrank back, wincing at her tone.

Rosie reached over and put a hand to her arm. “That came out way harsher than I meant.” She squeezed. “Sorry.”

What was in it for her? Nothing. She just wanted to help Rosie because… Why? She wasn’t sure. Maybe because she’d helped Olivia put some perspective on her crazy life? Reminded her there was another way to live, and that despite what all Olivia’s family and friends thought, their way was not the only way.

Olivia steadied herself before replying. “I just want to help you.” She shook her head. “I feel like we have a connection. I know I’m going soon but I just wanted to… I don’t know, leave you with something to remember me by.” Jeez, that sounded dumber than she’d anticipated when the words emerged. “I’m not making much sense.”

Maybe that had something to do with the way Rosie was staring at her now, a warm, soft stare full of gratitude and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I love that you want to help,” Rosie said, her gaze drifting to Olivia’s lips and then back up. “I guess it’s just not something I’m used to.”

Olivia matched her soft smile. “All I’m saying is… take the sign down for now and give these changes a go. I’ll help, and I know Gina will be on-board.” She glanced around. “We can have this place ship-shape and ready to go in a few days, and then just see what happens.”

Rosie was thinking about it, as Gina arrived at their table, carrying two plates laden with bacon, egg, sausage, tomatoes, baked beans, mushrooms and black pudding.

Olivia made room on the table, the smell of the bacon making her woozy with anticipation. She glanced up at Rosie as she picked up her cutlery. “You’re having one, too?”

Rosie smirked. “No amount of pills can combat last night’s alcohol intake. Sometimes, a fry-up is what’s called for.”

“You need anything else?” Gina asked, wiping her hands on a white tea towel draped over her shoulder.

“Just you,” Olivia said, holding up an index finger. “If I come back when you close at four, can we sit down and go over your citizenship test?”

Gina’s face quirked in surprise. “You and me?”

The Argentinean twang of her accent made Olivia think of smooth glasses of Malbec on hot summer nights. She nodded. “I’m going to make sure you pass the next one, so Rosie doesn’t have to worry about losing you as her chef.” She glanced over at Rosie, who was staring at her now with a puzzled look on her face.

“That would be so good,” Gina said. “Thank you.”

Olivia concentrated on eating her brunch, not looking at Rosie for a few moments.

“Where did you come from?” Rosie’s tone was full of wonderment.

When Olivia looked up, Rosie shook her head, the warm smile still there. Her voice was low, her gaze unwavering. “You sweep into town like some mysterious stranger, you put Amy in her place and now you want to help my cafe. That’s not even mentioning you’re tall, dark and beautiful. I’m waiting for the punchline, but it hasn’t come yet.”

Her words reached in and grabbed Olivia’s heart, making her draw in a sharp breath.

Rosie thought she was beautiful? Nobody had called her beautiful in a very, very long time.

“There’s no catch — I just want to help you. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it.” She paused. “Plus, if anybody can help Gina brush up her language skills, it’s me. I helped locals learn English when I was in Afghanistan, and if I can’t help her pass her citizenship test, my mother would never forgive me.”

Damn it, why did she keep mentioning her mother today? She must be on her mind.

“Then I’m all for it, thank you.” Rosie was still looking at her like she’d landed from outer-space.

Olivia put down her cutlery, the food giving her energy, making her brave. If Rosie thought she was beautiful, maybe she should act on it.

“You’ll think about the cafe plan, too? Just see if it works? Give it a few weeks?”

Rosie moved her mouth one way, then the other. “I don’t know—”

“—You know what, don’t decide now. We can do the facelift and rebrand this week, and then let me take you out this weekend and persuade you. And I’ll show you what could be done. What do you say?”

Rosie arched a perfect eyebrow one more time. “You want to take me out?”

Olivia gulped. Yes, that’s what she’d said. “I do.”

“Like on a date?”

At Rosie’s words, her heart began to boom. “A little like that, yes.” She bit her lip, nervous now. “You know what, exactly like a date. Get dressed up.” She leaned in, giving Rosie what she hoped was her best sexy stare. “I demand glad rags.” She paused. “Do you have glad rags?”

Rosie gave her a look. “We’re not that backward — we do have occasions for dresses even in Otter Bay.”

“Then put your dress on. This Saturday, we’re going out.”

Rosie grinned. “Okay Miss London, you’re on.” She paused. “More to the point, do you have glad rags?”

Olivia’s face dropped. “You know what, I don’t.”

Her mind raced. She’d have to contact her private secretary and get her to courier some down. And make sure she did it without anybody else knowing, or questions would be asked. “But I’m sure I can sort something out.”

Rosie chewed her food before replying. “If you’re really stuck, there’s always Connie’s boutique.”

At that, Olivia let out a long, loud chuckle.