When Jack finished with the teenagers, I motioned the postal carrier forward. I didn't even bother getting her name, because my primary concern was keeping the line moving –withoutcausing a riot.
Unfortunately, just as the woman moved toward the table, Imogen did, too. They jostled for position until the postal carrier gave Imogen an elbow to the side and kept on moving.
With a grunt, Imogen staggered sideways like she'd been hit by a linebacker. When she caught her balance, she turned accusing eyes on me. "Did you fuckin' see that?" she said in a voice that was all American. "I was totally assaulted."
I threw up my hands. "Sorry, no one cares. And what happened to your accent?"
She froze. "Pardon?"
"Nice try," I said. "And as far as the line, you might as well give it up. You'renotgoing next."
The guy behind her said, "Got that right."
True to his word, he hustled forward even before Jack had finished with the postal carrier. Imogen glared daggers at the guy before saying in a voice that was all duchess, "Well, I never!"
If this were remotely funny, I might've laughed.Did people actually say that in real life?
I had no idea.
I just knew that thiswasn'tgoing well. I snuck a quick glance at Jack. Judging from his expression, we were in total agreement.
Chapter 60
Jack
It was a shit-show if I ever saw one. And there she was in the middle of it – the girl I loved, even if shewasa magnet for trouble.
Screw it.
She could beg all she wanted. Thiswasn'thappening. I pushed back my chair and stood. A few strides later, I was at the front of the line.
I looked to Imogen and said, "You're leaving."
Her lips formed a familiar pout. "Oh, sonowI have your attention?"
"Yeah. For twenty seconds." I glanced toward the main entrance. "Ten if you hustle."
With a jerk of her chin, she replied, "I'm not 'hustling' anywhere."
Becka edged her way between us and gave me a tense smile. "How about this? I'll just escort her out. Easy-peasy."
From behind her, Imogen muttered, "God, you are such a yokel."
Becka whirled around to face her. "Yeah. Andyou'rea big faker. So I guess we're even."
Imogen looked ready to snap. "What?"
Becka rolled her eyes. "Oh, please." And then, in the worst English accent I'd ever heard, she continued by saying, "Oh, look at me. I'm all fancy and English. Oh, do bring me some tea, and a…" She paused as if thinking. "Crumpet?" She turned and gave me a questioning look.
I shrugged. "Hell ifIknow."
We both looked to Imogen.
She said nothing.
Becka made a forwarding motion with her hand. "Go on. Tell us."
Imogen drew back. "Pardon?"
