Page 50 of One Golden Summer
Saff? Kirsty had called her Saff, but it wasn’t meant to bring them closer, only to tear them apart. And, why was the woman so caught up about shopping in Iceland? Would Saffron have to build one of the shops on an actual chunk of ice to get across to Kirsty that she didn’t like the so-called Hollywood lifestyle?
Saffron tapped the side of her head, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry. We’re on the same page.”
Kirsty let out a relieved whoosh of air, and her shoulders softened. “I’m so glad. Because this”—she waved to Saffron and then back to her chest, resting her hand on the appetizing swell, causing Saffron to sit on her hands to avoid doing anything foolish—“has been awkward at best. Now that we’ve cleared the air, we can go back to being what we are: party planner and client.”
“Perfect. As the party planner, what do you think of the scallops?”
Kirsty took a dainty bite. “Oh, it’s not from Iceland.”
“Is that a tick in the right box for you? I know how much youloveyour Iceland.” Saffron didn’t have to roll her eyes, since her tone made it clear.
“Just as much as youloveyour Waitrose.” Kirsty smirked, her red lips pressed together, and Saffron felt a tug of an invisible string pulling her mouth to those lips.
“It’s where my assistant does all my shopping, before wrapping everything in gold paper.” Saffron snapped her head back, confounded as to why Kirsty couldn’t understand Saffron didn’t give a fuck about where to shop as long as they did it together. The takeaway point was there was absolutely zero chance between them. Saffron should put it out of her mind right then and there.
“Well, ladies, what do you think of the scallops?”
“Stunning.” Saffron stared into Kirsty’s eyes.
“Nothing better on the planet.” Kirsty held her gaze.
“Magnificent.” The man bobbed his head, clearing the half-eaten food. “I’ll be right back with the next delectable delight.”
Saffron licked her lips.
Kirsty bit down on the left side of her bottom lip.
Saffron tugged on her collar and crossed her legs.
The owner returned. “This will knock your socks off. Grilled lobster with chili and chorizo.” He kissed his fingertips. “Fresh and hot.”
“She is… I mean, it looks like it is.” If the lobster shell had been on the plate, Saffron would have crawled into it. As an alternative she had to settle for her cheeks burning redder than the missing shell.
“Thank you.” Kirsty swallowed.
When they were alone, Saffron raised her eyes to those lovely greys, only to be met with a quizzical stare. “Shall we dig in?”
“It is why we’re here.” Kirsty didn’t make a move to sample the lobster.
“Yes, because you’re the party planner and I’m the client. Nothing else to see here, folks.” Saffron tried to laugh at her own joke but nearly choked. She clenched the water glass with two shaky hands and drank heavily to clear her passageway.
Kirsty slapped Saffron’s back. “Are you okay?”
Saffron nodded, still guzzling water, her eyes tearing. After several deep breaths, she recovered, mostly. “These are the moments that are usually cut out of my films.”
“The real ones?” Kirsty still had her hand on Saffron’s back, rubbing it tenderly.
Saffron stifled the buzzing sensation coursing through her, as Kirsty still massaged her back, worry in her eyes.
“Exactly.” Saffron took one final drink of water. “Moviegoers don’t want real from me. Only perfection.”Like I have my life figured out, when really, I’m flailing like the rest of the human population.
“Another reason why we wouldn’t work. I revel in imperfection. Maybe it’s why I prefer rom-coms, not action flicks. No offence.”
“None taken. What’s your favourite?”
“Sleepless in Seattle.” Kirsty spoke the words like she’d tossed down a gauntlet.
“Another problem. I’m aYou’ve Got Mailgirl.”
