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“Because then she would have asked to speak to you. She wanted you, not me. She probably doesn’t think I’ll be a good nurse.” She wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to be the one everyone wanted around. “And she’s probably right.”

Harriet sighed. “Fliss—”

“What? We both know I’m not the nurturing type, but I swear if you agree to let me go and stay here instead, I’ll take really good care of her. I’ll do anything. I’ll bathe her. I’ll be sympathetic. I’ll walk Charlie.”

“You don’t even like Charlie.”

“I take exception to his selective deafness, that’s all. I hate the way he has to smell absolutely everything we pass. He almost pulled my arm out of its socket last time I walked him.”

“He’s a beagle. Beagles are hunting dogs.”

“He shouldn’t be hunting when I’m walking him.”

“He’s the perfect dog for Grams. She can’t walk as fast these days, but that just gives Charlie more sniffing time. I think beagles are incredible. They’re basically a nose on four legs.”

“You think all dogs are incredible. And Charlie is not so incredible when he’s baying. But I’ll handle it. I’ll handle everything. I’ll even hug him if that’s what it takes. And I’ll tell you everything that is happening and I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll even make your chocolate chip cookies.”

“No!” Harriet looked alarmed. “Don’t do that. You’ll set the house on fire.”

“All right, no chocolate chip cookies.” Fliss flopped down onto the chair. The sheer relief at the prospect of a reprieve made her realize how stressed she’d been. “Please, Harry. I really need to get out of Manhattan. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t relax, I’m not sleeping, and when I don’t sleep I’m in a continually rotten mood—”

“I’d noticed. Fine, go.” Harriet rubbed the ends of her hair with the towel. “But you’ll have to tell Grams the truth. You can’t pretend to be me. That crosses a line.”

Fliss didn’t comment.

She’d crossed so many lines in her life she no longer knew which side of the line she stood on.

“I can’t tell her before I go. She might tell me she doesn’t want me.” There was an ache in the pit of her stomach. The truth was everyone wanted Harriet. Harriet was kind and generous. She was warm-natured and even-tempered. Harriet had never gone skinny-dipping. She’d never lied to a man and had wild sex on a beach. “I’ll tell her the moment I arrive and pick her up from the hospital.”

“Are you sure this is going to help? Sooner or later you’re going to have to come back and meet Seth. You’re postponing the inevitable, that’s all.”

“Postponing the inevitable looks good from where I’m standing. Never do today what you can put off until next week.”

Harriet folded the towel neatly. “All right. But the moment you pick Grams up from the hospital, you explain everything.”

“Absolutely.”

“You tell her what’s happened and you tell her you’re Fliss.”

“I will. That’s what I’m going to do.”

“No skinny-dipping.”

“Hey—” Fliss spread her hands “—I’m a reformed character.”

“No stealing tomatoes.”

“They were good tomatoes. And the family were away for the summer, or so I thought at the time.” Fliss grinned and then caught Harriet’s eye and stopped grinning. “But just to be safe I’ll buy tomatoes on one of the roadside stands, I promise. No taking produce that doesn’t belong to me, even if it is perfectly ripe and no one is picking it and I know it’s going to go to waste. No way would I do that.”

Harriet gave her a long look. “And what am I supposed to say if I bump into Seth?”

“You’re sure you couldn’t pretend to be me?”

“No.”

“Because you’re so honest.”

“Well, there’s that, but also I’m a terrible actor. And what if he kissed me thinking I was you?”


Tags: Sarah Morgan From Manhattan with Love Romance