Page 18 of One Golden Summer
“Here you go!” Kirsty presented her with one oyster.
“Where’s yours?”
Kirsty leaned close. “The truth is I can’t stand them.”
“Now you tell me!” Saffron eyed the half shell. “This would have been useful knowledge before you purchased one just for me.”
“I knew you’d back out. Besides it’s—”
“Tradition. So you keep saying, but if you don’t eat them, how am I supposed to believe anything you’ve said?” Saffron shook her head mockingly but grinned foolishly.
“Because I have tried them, which is why I know I don’t like them. Many others love them. There’s an entire festival dedicated to oysters.” Kirsty pointed to one of the signs. “A whole week of events to celebrate the oyster and its impact on the town. Don’t let my aversion influence you. Surely, you’ve had one before, being a movie star and all that.” Kirsty nudged Saffron in the side with an elbow.
“I have, but the last time I did, I got a terrible case of food poisoning.”
“One of the selling points of the Sandy Cove Native is their freshness, so blot that experience from your memory, tip it back, and swallow.” Kirsty acted this out, the confidence in her eyes so damn appealing.
“I may be more trusting if you didn’t just confess you aren’t a fan.” Saffron dramatically jiggled the shell, the shellfish moving slightly, enjoying putting on such a show, because it seemed to draw Kirsty closer as a way of offering her support.
“The longer you stare at it, the harder it will be to bite the bullet. The best thing to do is just get it over with.”
“You really aren’t selling this must-have Sandy Cove experience.” Saffron returned the playful nudge into Kirsty’s side, closing the space between them even more.
“Pretend you’re on a movie set and you have to eat it.”
“Right. I can do that. I mean, it’s how they got me to jump out of a plane.” Saffron raised the shell to her lips. “Here goes nothing.”
Kirsty, open-mouthed, watched.
Saffron chomped into it once. Twice. Then swallowed.
“Well?” Kirsty’s eyes goggled.
“You’re right, Sandy Cove oysters are nice and fresh.”
“Would you like another?” Kirsty started to fish in her wallet.
“Not today, but I do think I will have many more in the not-so-distant future. When I have money of my own. Can you add the oyster to the party bill?”
Kirsty waved the idea away. “My treat.”
“No, I can’t take your money. We should discuss your rate.”
“Well… I do have a number in mind, but we’re having such a lovely time.” Kirsty’s gaze swept the surroundings. “I can’t talk business when there are people walking their dogs and kids getting ice cream.”
“Just tell me. I’ll make sure to pass it along to my assistant to arrange payment.”
Kirsty handed Saffron a paper she’d pulled out of her bag.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Saffron scanned the itemised list of expenditures.
“If it’s too much, I can drop—”
“It’s not enough. There’s no way you can pull this off with this amount of money.” Again, Saffron ran a finger down the figures.
“Oh, I know I can.”
“But what about your time. You need to be paid for that.”
