Page 21 of Love in Kentbury


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Lou: You keep telling yourself that. But imagine announcing they’ll be there. We could auction off dinners or breakfast dates with them for that weekend.

Henrik: Planning to bid on me for dinner, McFolley?

Lou: I can’t exactly splurge on ‘Tremor’ Tremblay, now can I?

Henrik: What if I lend you the money?

Lou: Ha! If I were to borrow money, it wouldn’t be to dine with you. No offense, but you’re not that hot, buddy.

Henrik: That’s not what you seemed to think earlier today. Weren’t you the one saying I’d make a great master of ceremony?

Lou: I never said that. Paul didn’t want to be the emcee, so I said you’d have to do it. Stop twisting my words.

Henrik: We’ll go with your version. But if you want the hockey team at the gala, it’ll have to be in the off-season. They won’t be available in September.

Lou: That doesn’t give me much time to plan.

Henrik: What happened to being the mastermind of events? I mean, that’s what you told me about the Love Festival and yet . . . you haven’t come up with the couple’s competition.

Lou: Maybe we should skip that idea and stick to simple carnival games.

Henrik: You can, as long as you don’t make it competitive—it’s about love, remember.

Lou: How about a photo booth?

Henrik: That’s a cute addition. We could even take some pictures together

.

Lou: We are not spending the festival glued together, Henrik. You’ll have your assignments and I’ll have mine.

Henrik: Have you noticed you always avoid spending time with me alone?

Lou: You’re imagining things.

Henrik: Am I?

Lou: ((Rolls eyes))

Henrik: Then, come to the lake with me.

Lou: The frozen lake?

Henrik: That’s the only lake in Kentbury. I’ll pick you up and let’s go there.

Lou: But it’s frozen, why would I go there?

Henrik: Remember I promised to teach you to skate when you were fifteen?

Lou: I was fifteen. That was a long time ago.

Henrik: Do you know how to skate?

Lou: No, but I don’t need to learn.

Henrik: What about when Tilly and Archie want to skate? You’ll need to know.

Lou: That’s playing dirty, Tremblay.

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