Page 49 of One Golden Summer
Children of alcoholics, more often than not, grew up playing peacemaker, never wanting to rock an already seesawing boat in a tempest. Saffron had learned this in therapy and understood the foundation for her need to placate others. Understanding and confronting were polar opposites in her world.
The door of the restaurant came into view, and Saffron legged it to get there first. “After you.” She made an exaggerated bow and arm wave, only to be met with a snort.
I guess chivalry isn’t appreciated. Saffron crumpled, wanting to sink into the ground.
“Ladies, welcome.” The owner pressed his hands together. “Which one of you is the lucky lady?”
Saffron and Kirsty stared blankly at the man.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are both of you the brides? Such a lovely couple.” He put a hand on one of Kirsty’s shoulders and gave it a squeeze.
“Oh, no.” Kirsty rushed to say, lowering her shoulder to be free of the man. “I’m planning a divorce party for…” She looked to Saffron.
“The person who left you is a fool.” He slapped his hands together, but stopped short from spitting on the floor, even if he looked as if he was about to. “An utter fool.” The man led them to the table, speaking to Saffron on his right. “Don’t you worry. What we’ve conjured up today will make you feel better. I have no doubt you’ll rebound quickly.” He winked at Saffron as if hoping to add his name to herfuture suitorslist, much to her amazement. Did he have no clue who she was?
Kirsty took a seat next to Saffron, which would have been encouraging, but the way the table was set up, the chairs were right next to each other. Should Saffron take comfort in the fact that Kirsty didn’t move one of the chairs to the far side? Was that a sign she didn’t hate being in the same space as Saffron? Or was she simply avoiding making a scene?
The owner came out with two plates. “First up, caramelised scallops with cauliflower puree and pancetta. Enjoy.”
“They look scrumptious.” Saffron unfurled a white linen napkin with a cracking sound, placing it onto her lap.
“I feel like I should tell you something.” Kirsty poked the offering with a fork.
“You don’t like scallops?”
“I’m not a superfan, but no, that isn’t what I want to say.”
Saffron braced for the worst.
“The other night, I think we can both agree it was a mistake. With the festivities, too much booze, and wanting to… I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Uh—”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not the type to indulge in summer flings. We both know you’re only here temporarily, and I’m planning your sister’s divorce party, of all things. Us… kissing again, is a bad idea. Absolutely the worst.” Kirsty sliced the air with both hands.
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.”Actually, I totally disagree!
“You’re clearly still involved with Echo Black, and I’m not the type to be the other woman. Not that I think whatever we had qualified as that. It’s just… yeah, we should cool it. Focus on the party planning and nothing more.” Kirsty gestured to the scallops as if they were the only things that mattered in the moment.
“Yes, all this is about Ginger.” Saffron noticed Kirsty referred to them in the past tense. The woman moved on quickly, which surely meant it had only been a bit of fun for her.
Kirsty turned to Saffron. “You agree? It was a mistake?”
Saffron nodded, hopefully showcasing a relieved smile when all she wanted to do was crawl back under her duvet and start the day over because this wasn’t where she wanted to be. The last thing she had wanted was being told the kiss was a mistake and they should only see each other for party planning business and nothing more.
For Saffron, the kiss had been amazing. The toe-curling kind that she’d heard about but never experienced.
But it wasn’t only that. When she was around Kirsty, she felt like herself. Not SAFFRON OLIVER, all lit up in red on a marquee. Allowed to be her dorky, uncool self without fear of being judged. Wasn’t that what most people craved deep down? To show their true colours and to be not only accepted but loved for those nutty qualities? That door had just been slammed shut in her face.
Kirsty cleared her throat, still waiting for an answer.
“Yep. I agree.” Saffron stared at her plate.
“Our lives are just so different. You’re used to women drooling over you, and my life is in this sleepy town with terrible beaches, where I hope to eke out enough wine sales so I can buy frozen salmon and peas at my local Iceland for my version of Friday night dinner. Our worlds couldn’t be further apart if we tried.” Kirsty spread her arms out wide, one hand barely grazing Saffron’s chest, causing her insides to ignite like a stick of dynamite. “Sorry about that.” She recoiled in her chair, the chasm between them growing even more.
Saffron tried to blot out how her body still sizzled from the accidental touch. “For the record, I like salmon and peas.”
“Have you ever tried it from a shop like Iceland, that has budget in mind, not bells and whistles for the rich? That’s the point, Saff, isn’t it?”
