A few hours later, we're dressed and heading over to Coral's bar . . . which, incidentally, is also called Coral's. ("I know it's probably not particularly imaginative, but it sounds cute!" she had said defensively when she told me the name. I assured her it was perfect.)

"I hope you like it," she babbles anxiously as we walk down the road. I can tell how nervous she is; waves of anxiety are practically radiating out of her. "I feel like I'm about to introduce you to my actual baby right now!"

I laugh. "I'm sure I will; don't worry." We've reached a side street just around the corner from the harbour - close to the bustle of the town without too much of the noise.

"I adore the location," she says now, practically reading my mind. "There's a small garden in the back I'm going to be using for outside drinks, but this means I can also put a few tables out front, and pedestrians won't be in the way all the time." She indicates the storefront beside us with a dramatic flourish before she starts unlocking the door. "What do you think?"

"It's pretty much your vision come to life," I reply truthfully as we enter. I look around in delight, taking in the black and white tiled flooring, the matte black tables, and deep pink chairs that complement each other so well. There's a few plush booths at the back with velvety seating and a beautiful chandelier dangling from the ceiling. I nip out to the aforementioned garden; it is indeed small, but five or six tables are sitting there comfortably, and it looks like it would be a suntrap in the height of summer (provided the unpredictable Scottish weather behaves itself, of course!).

"This place is a goldmine," I tell Coral as I skip excitedly back inside. "I'm already in love with it."

"We've also got this little cubby here," she says excitedly, pulling back a dark pink curtain to reveal a small alcove with another few tables inside. "I thought this could be great if someone wants a private space for parties, or maybe events such as bookclub meetings?" Without waiting for me to respond, she skips over to the bar itself - a black marble counter with the slightest of sparkles. "Will I take you through the cocktail menu now? Make sure you're up to speed?"

"Do I get to sample them, too?" I ask, chancer that I am.

Coral tuts and shakes her head. "What a ridiculous question, Louisa. Of course!"

She puts me to work, showing me how to make some of the bar's signature drinks, and I pick them up remarkably quickly, much to my relief. I did work in a bar once upon a time, but it was a long time ago and it was more of a basic "pints, crisps and occasional violence" sort of establishment. Coral's definitely places significantly higher on the "classy" scale.

"So we open on Thursday evening; a private soft launch that's invitation only."

"Ah yes . . . And this is when my good buddy, Declan, will be performing?" I wrinkle my nose disgustedly as Coral nods in confirmation. "Can't wait to see him again!"

She laughs. "I can't believe I'm even surprised that you've been here less than 24 hours and you already have two enemies . . . I mean, it's so on brand for you."

"You're making me sound like a terrible person," I tut, but she's not entirely wrong in her statement. Because I have a tendency to be a tad outspoken and opinionated at times, I'm a bit like Marmite to some people: they either love me or hate me. Of course, when it comes to Declan, we actually used to get along just fine when he was dating Abby . . . And Brody seemed to like me up until the point he assigned me stalker status.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear my head of the memory of the kitchen scene earlier today. Of his hand on my hip bone, his breath hot and fast against my hair. I'm almost certain I wasn't imagining the heat forming between us. There were definite sparks. Had Coral not ruined the vibe, that flare of attraction would surely have ignited.

Yet, that flashback that plays on an almost-constant loop is already starting to fade. I'm beginning to almost doubt it actually happened: the humiliation of the aftermath now taints the thrill of that initial chemistry. I think I'm actually gaslighting myself now.

"Louisa Watson!" Coral breaks disruptively into my fractured thoughts as she clinks a spoon against a cocktail glass to regain my attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Nope," I reply honestly. There's really no point in lying. "What were you saying?"

She sighs with faux impatience. "I was just letting you know you have a couple of free days before we open. I'm getting the other members of staff in for training Tuesday and Wednesday, so you can help me out with that, and then we'll obviously kick off properly from Thursday."

"Sounds good to me!" I nod. Although I have no idea what I'll do with myself for the next few days; I've never been very good at lazing around.

A sudden sharp rapping on the door at this moment causes us both to jump. Coral glances through the glass, and her face falls. "Fuck," she mutters. "Do you think she won't see us if we stay really still?"

"Who is it?" I ask curiously, resisting the urge to turn around as another insistent knock shatters the peace once again.

"The bane of my life," my friend sighs, hopping off her bar stool and reluctantly making her way towards the door. "Prepare yourself!"

The girl who pushes her way in as soon as Coral turns the lock is exceptionally well-groomed: silky brown hair which must have been stolen from a shampoo advert; a face so perfect it was likely custom-designed in an aesthetics clinic; and an outfit that probably cost more than I used to earn in six months of work. "It's about time," she huffs dramatically, throwing her buttery soft red bag on a nearby table and dropping into a chair like she owns the place. She clashes with the furniture, I'm pleased to note. "I thought you were never going to let me in!"

I can't help but instantly dislike her. The bad vibes are strong with this one; and I don't even know who she is yet!

"You were literally waiting for five seconds, maximum," Coral says wearily. "And you do realise we're not officially open yet, right?"

Ignoring her tone, Little Miss Bitchy Perfection turns her attention to yours truly, bright blue gaze scanning me up and down with uncomfortable intensity. "So this is the stalker you've brought to harass poor Brody." She shakes her head. "Not cool, Coral."

For goodness sake!

"Word gets around fast here." I side-eye Coral, and she shrugs apologetically in response.

"Sorry. Hazards of a small town."

"Actually, Brody told me himself when I dropped by his flat earlier." The still nameless girl looks smug now, in a way that makes me want to beat the expression clear off her face. (Apologies . . . One of my favourite pre-menstrual symptoms is tendencies towards violence!) "We're very close, you see."

They are? My heart clenches itself dramatically at her inference they might be a couple.

"Louisa, this is Rowan," Coral tells me, rolling her eyes. "She's an old family friend. Or she likes to think she is," she adds under her breath. Although still loudly enough to allow Rowan to hear.

"Anyway, I had to come and see the psycho for myself," Rowan adds with a smirk. She returns her attention to me, her expression filtering itself into a mask of concern. "Please stay away from him. Brody doesn't need any more stress in his life right now."

Is she for real? Normally, I'd be able to find a sharp, smart comeback to fire at her, but she's caught me off-guard and embarrassed me . . . and so I find myself reddening and staring at her with a slackened jaw, as Coral manhandles her back towards the exit.

"As I already said, we're not open yet, but feel free to come back on Friday," she says firmly.

"Oh, you'll be seeing me at the opening on Thursday," Rowan responds sweetly. "I'm Brody's plus-one, of course!"

Coral shoves her outside and locks the door behind her. "Sorry about her," she says as she returns to the bar area. "She went out with Brody for a few months back when they were in high school; she sometimes acts like they're still together even though he's been in several other relationships since." She grimaces. "I suspect they've had a friends- with-benefits agreement going on in the past, although I really don't like to think about it too much."

"Oh, great!" I sag down on my stool. "Maybe she's another thing you could have warned me about before I moved my entire life up here?" I can feel frustration building up all over again . . . Does Brody really hate me so much that he's sent his occasional fuck buddy to tell me to back off? That's just humiliating!

"Honestly, I forget about her existence most of the time; I only see her when Brody is here." Coral looks glum. "I'm actually beyond furious he's invited her to the opening."

Me too.

It was bad enough when I had two enemies to deal with on opening night. But it seems I've just acquired a third!

Apologies for yet another delay; my motivation and inspiration are apparently at an all-time-low at the moment! I vaguely know how the next two chapters are going to go though, so hopefully the gaps between posts will become smaller again. Thanks for sticking with me!