Page 11 of One Golden Summer
Kirsty dropped a stack of magazines on the table. “These will give us some party ideas.”
Right on top was one featuring Saffron, as if declaring loud and clear the woman’s true intentions. “Is this the real reason why you want to plan my sister’s party?”
Kirsty took a step back. “What do you mean?”
Saffron knocked the magazine off the pile. “To use my name to boost your business.”
“Saffie!” Ginger’s hand flew to her mouth, using the nickname from their childhood when Ginger thought her sister was acting like a brat.
Undeterred, Saffron stared at Kirsty, noticing how her grey eyes had more sparkle than her smile.
“In case you didn’t get the memo, I didn’t know you were Ginger’s sister until moments ago.” Kirsty pointed towards the till, where the embarrassing scene had played out.
“So you say.” Saffron snorted, having dealt with these types most of her life. “Or were you putting on a show to con both of us?”
“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Kirsty jutted out a hip, placing a hand on it, drawing Saffron’s eyes to her spectacular curves.
Ignoring her increased heartbeat and the kindness in Kirsty’s grey eyes, Saffron stayed the course, her voice losing some of its steam. “You wouldn’t be the first to go through someone close to me to get what you want, all the while pretending to be a supportive friend.”
“Who do you think you are?” A vein in Kirsty’s neck bulged.
“Saffron Oliver, the lesbian icon.” She waved a hand in the air. “Those are your words, not mine.”
“What happened to Pam? Is that your real name instead of the silly stage name?” Kirsty blew a raspberry.
Saffron’s eyes darted upwards, seeking the calming sensation she’d had by the waterfront, but her patience had dried up. After years in the Hollywood scene, Saffron was wary of anyone who seemed too good to be true. Turning her back on the beautiful woman, Saffron said, “Ginger, let me plan this party. I’ve rented a place on the water, and I’m in dire need of a distraction. Your party will be the talk of Sandy Cove—no, all of Britain. Butlers in the Buff. You’ll be carried in, Cleopatra style—”
“Whoa, there! I love you. I do.” Ginger paused before digging in. “But I don’t want a Hollywood type party. If I do this, I want something my speed, not yours.”
“You think I’m the Hollywood type?” Saffron flinched.
“Not when it comes to your own life. I know for a fact you hate being noticed. Yet, when it comes to those you love, you struggle with your impulse control.”
“I’ll keep myself in check, I promise.” Saffron bounced up and down in her seat, pressing her palms together. “I can do this.”
“Tell you what. Why don’t the two of you work together? Because Kirsty isn’t using me to get to you. She agreed to plan this party before you entered the picture. You need to learn not everyone wants to use you.”
“But—”
“It’s okay. I don’t need to be part of the planning, and I would never get between sisters.” Kirsty started to step away, but Ginger yanked her back.
“You’re going to be part of this, and you, dear sister, are going to help, not take over. I need my new friend and sister right now, more than ever.” The pleading in Ginger’s tone was genuine.
Saffron met Kirsty’s eyes. “Okay.”
“Fine,” Kirsty managed through gritted teeth, but from the rising and falling of her chest, she wasn’t thrilled with Saffron taking part.
Saffron had a hard time removing her focus from Kirsty’s breasts, upset with herself for the sudden interest in what lay beneath the fabric.
“Well, this is off to a fantabulous start.” Ginger laughed. “Hopefully, it won’t crash and burn like my marriage.” Her expression turned serious. “Can you two agree to be cordial?”
Saffron offered her most charming smile. “Absolutely.”
“I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I think you’ll find most in Sandy Cove stick to their own business, myself included.” Kirsty offered an apologetic smile.
Ginger bobbed her head in agreement, but pointed to one of the covers with Saffron posing with Echo Black. “Tell me about yourGirl Racerco-star.”
“Nothing to tell.” Saffron’s eyes darted to Kirsty, who had sunk back into her chair.
