Page 14 of One Golden Summer
Saffron glanced up at her sign.
“I really need to get the name touched up.” Seeing it through fresh eyes made Kirsty painfully aware of that. “It’s on my to-do list.”
However, Kirsty didn’t have time to dwell as the shop door opened and Helena came out, eyes wide, phone in hand. Oh gawd, she was going to be embarrassing, wasn’t she? She gave Kirsty a look, then stuck out a hand to Saffron.
“Hi, a real pleasure to meet you. Saffron Oliver,” Helena said, just in case Saffron needed to be reminded of her name. “I just want you to know, I’m ahugefan. Love the wholeGirl Racerthing. Girl power and all of that.” Helena let go of Saffron’s hand and punched the air.
Kirsty winced. “This is my very enthusiastic business partner, Helena.”
Saffron removed her sunglasses again, before turning the full force of her megawatt smile on Helena. “Lovely to meet you, too.” She punched the air with slightly less ferocity. “Doing my bit for girl power.”
Helena fumbled with her phone, stabbing it nervously. “Do you mind if I take a photo for our wall of fame? We don’t get Hollywood superstars in Sandy Cove very often.”
Kirsty stepped in, putting a hand on Helena’s arm. “We don’t have a wall of fame.”
“We could start one.” Helena’s tone was indignant.
“No photos.” Kirsty gave her a look. “Saffron’s here on a break, and we should respect that.”
Helena threw her a scowl.
Saffron rubbed her hands together. “How about this? No photo for your non-existent wall of fame, but I will definitely come in and buy some wine. I only have a bottle of gin in my house, and it would love some company.”
Helena clapped her hands. “We’ve got some fantastic selections for all budgets. Yours will be slightly higher than most I expect.”
Kirsty rolled her eyes. She’d have to tell Helena to rein it in.
Saffron let out a whistle when she walked into the shop. “This is a gorgeous place.” She ran a hand over the tasting table, before walking along the shelves, reading some of the tasting notes handwritten by Kirsty, hanging on strings around the necks of the wines. “I love the personal touch. ‘Overtones of peach’. Yum.” Saffron looked up. “Peaches are my favourite.”
Saffron’s gaze settled on Kirsty.
Kirsty went to speak, but no words came out. She cleared her throat, as heat flushed her cheeks.
Tongue-tied in front of a movie star?
Get a grip.
“It’s from a lovely producer in the South of France. It’s got a slight pettiance and excellent body.” Kirsty had gone into wine-pro mode. That was good.
Saffron took a bottle from the shelf. “I’ll have to try it now.” She paused, never taking her eyes from Kirsty.
Something fluttered in Kirsty’s chest. She ignored it.
Repeat after me.
I will not get a crush on a movie star.
“Even better, how about you pick a box of wine for me? You’re clearly the expert. I like full-bodied reds and interesting whites. Fizz, too. Surprise me.”
“I can do that,” Kirsty said. “Do you have a budget?”
“I trust you not to fleece me.”
“That from the woman who trusts nobody. Quite an accolade.” Kirsty pulled her shoulders back. She was almost back on solid ground. Her body no longer betraying her. Back to being a grown-up doing her professional job. “We offer delivery, so I can drop it round tomorrow. Did you say you were staying at the Beachcomber house?”
“I love that one! Always wanted to have a look inside,” Helena said, phone back in hand.
Saffron turned.
