Page 65 of The Happy Hour
She basically had two jobs now: working at No Vase Like Home and fulfilling orders on Etsy. On a couple of occasions, she’d had both Lola and Malik helping her pack up prints, taking over the living room, which had led to Terence pitching in too as they worked to clear the backlog. Added to that, she’d already had to restock the framed prints in No Vase Like Home, while Lola, Spade and Braden continued to delight people in the public spaces of Greenwich, and on social media. It meant Jess had been able to donate money to Enzo for rent and, with Wendy matching her contribution, he had also been able to pay for Sofia to spend a couple of days making more jewellery. It wasn’t enough to keep them going for ever, but it was a start.
‘Over half a million views on our last video,’ Lola said proudly.
‘Which featured the Better Babies stall,’ Susie added. ‘I even made up a little dance.’
‘I saw it,’ Jess said, laughing. ‘You looked great, Susie. I just hadn’t checked the numbers in a while.’
‘Next stop record company, baby.’ Spade raised his glass.
‘You’ve achieved so much.’ Felicity handed the last photo frame to Kirsty and took her empty bag off the table. Jess noticed Spade tap the back of her hand, as if in approval.
‘I am very grateful,’ Enzo said. ‘From the sale of Jess’s prints, the money she and Wendy have given me, Sofia has been able to help us a little. The stall is full of new pieces.’
‘You’re fucking magic, Jess,’ Spade said.
‘Absolutely!’ Felicity laughed. ‘An absolute fucking superstar.’
Jess almost spat her vodka tonic over the table. She was about to comment on Felicity’s swearing when she noticed the adoring look Spade was giving her, the little bubble of admiration they seemed to have sunk into, and kept quiet.
‘A proper superstar,’ Enzo agreed. ‘Thank you. But I do not want to take your charity for any longer than I have to. It’s your work, not mine.’
‘You know I’m happy doing this,’ Jess said. ‘MeandWendy. It’s just until you’re firmly back on your feet. And you’re helping me out too, because I never would have brought my designs into the shop without this push.’
‘It’s very generous of you,’ Olga said.
‘Sogenerous,’ Kirsty added. ‘I think we need another round to celebrate. Susie, come to the bar with me?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m surprised Ash isn’t here,’ Felicity said. ‘Was he busy tonight?’
Jess opened her mouth to reply, then realised she couldn’t. How could she tell this group of lovely, sensible people that she hadn’t even considered asking him to come to the pub because he was a Sunday morning thing? Except that was no longer true, because he was in her thoughts and her dreams and lighting up her WhatsApps constantly. He was so far beyond Sunday mornings for her, even though those were the only times they’d seen each other.
‘Yes,’ Olga added. ‘It would be good to get his take on all this.’
Lola laughed. ‘You want to know what Jess’s part-time boyfriend thinks of her fundraising for Enzo?’
‘He’s not my—’
‘He’s a solid dude.’ Spade sounded indignant. ‘He’d be a good drinking buddy, I’m sure.’
‘He caught Braden when he stole that half-hunter from my stall,’ Roger added. ‘And look how far Braden’s come since then. Ash seems like an incredibly competent young man.’
‘I don’t know what I would have done without him,’ Felicity said quietly.
‘He gave me a new muffin idea the other day,’ Kirsty announced, as she and Susie returned to the table with trays full of drinks.
‘What was that?’ Olga asked.
‘Pistachio, vanilla and lime. He told me it was his favourite gelato combination, and I’m trialling the cream now. It’s going to be a bestseller, I can feel it.’
‘Wow.’ Lola sat back in her chair, her phone discarded. ‘Sounds like Ash is a pretty integral part of the market.’
There were nods and murmurs around the table.
‘One of the coolest ghouls we’ve ever had,’ Spade said. ‘You should invite him next time, Jess.’
She nodded, surreptitiously looking at everyone while she accepted a new drink from Kirsty. She had known that Ash could charm anyone, but she hadn’t realised quite how fond her fellow marketeers were of him; how he’d worked his way into their lives, probably without even trying.
