Page 9 of One Golden Summer
“I’ll bring it out to you, P-pam.”
Mumbling a thank-you, Saffron selected a table close to the counter, putting her right in the line of fire, but there wasn’t much that could be done since no other table was free. Someone had left a hardcover book they’d opted not to buy, and she cracked it open, holding it face level in an attempt to avoid detection. Peering over the top to scope out the scene, her shoulders sagged, as she spied two women browsing the books on a table, whispering behind furtive hands. Evidently, her Pam ruse had miserably failed.
A woman in her sixties entered the shop and nearly gasped when her eyes landed on Saffron. So much for thinking people who flocked to Sandy Cove weren’t theGirl Racertypes but more into art communes that cobbled masterpieces out of flotsam that washed onto the beach. Where did she have to go to be anonymous? A cave? Deserted island?
The door opened, and Ginger, her sister, waltzed to the counter to order, along with a woman Saffron had never laid her eyes on.
Ginger, not clocking Saffron yet, ordered.
The woman with striking cheek bones, an adorable button nose, and a brilliant smile that warmed Saffron’s insides, followed suit, and then let her gaze wander, quickly locking onto Saffron, her eyes widening with recognition. “Don’t look now, but”—the woman, ignoring her own admonishment, goggled over her shoulder—“but Saffron Oliver is right behind us.”
“Are you sure?” Ginger’s voice was playful, probably for Saffron’s benefit.
The brunette turned back around. “I can’t believe it. Saffron Frigging Oliver is right there. I could touch her.”
Ginger edged closer to the woman. “I take it you’re a fan.”
“I might have a tiny crush on her. It’s even possible I’ve imagined what it would be like to take off her biker leathers.” She fanned herself, seemingly oblivious to how near she stood to Saffron. She stole another furtive glance at Saffron. Did the woman think Saffron was blind or deaf?
“You should introduce yourself.” Ginger still avoided making eye contact with Saffron, instead focusing on paying the barista.
“Are you mad? She’s a superstar. Also a lesbian icon. I mean, what the fuck is she doinghere?”
Saffron wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Should she get up and let the woman know Ginger was goading her? Stop the brunette from even more awkwardness?
“I’m serious. You should waltz up to Ms Oliver and ask her out. What’s the worst that can happen?” Ginger posed innocently.
“How long have you got?”
“I’ll do it for you.”
The woman shook her head. “No! I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“I would. I’ve known her all my life. She’s my sister.” Ginger flicked her fingers in a hello gesture to Saffron.
The woman pulled back as if cold water had been dumped over her head. “She’swhat?”
“My sister. Let me introduce you.” Ginger hooked an arm through the woman’s, her hand on a hip.
“Oh, no. I can’t. Not after…” The woman’s face went up in flames, and Saffron wouldn’t be surprised if smoke started to billow out of her ears. “This is so embarrassing.” Now, the brunette looked everywhere but in Saffron’s direction, although the tips of the woman’s ears deepened to a dark purplish colour.
“Don’t be silly. She’s really quite down to earth.” Ginger tightened her grip on the woman’s arm.
The dark-haired beauty’s legs didn’t budge, causing Ginger to implore Saffron with those kind blue eyes. “Come on, Sis; tell her you don’t bite.”
Saffron was about to speak, but the barista bellowed, “Pam!”
What happened to bringing it to me?
Saffron rose to retrieve her drink. With each step, another chunk of her dignity cracked away. Mumbling a thank-you to the barista, Saffron flipped back around, with all eyes on her. She slinked back to her seat, wanting to hide behind the book again, but it was useless now.
Ginger, shaking her head and still chuckling, guided the woman to the empty seat at the table, and then Ginger hooked a chair with her foot and yanked it over. “Let’s start over. Kirsty, meet my baby sister, Saffron.”
Kirsty dipped her head, seeming as though she hadn’t regained her voice after jamming her foot down her throat.
Not that Saffron was the super sophisticated woman she’d played to a hilt on more occasions than she could count. Real life had a way of crashing through the thin veneer of perfection, leaving Saffron to wonder if everyone was gutted to learn first-hand she wasn’t the Hollywood goddess her inner circle made her out to be.
Ginger looked to Saffron and then her friend, a devious, playful glint in Ginger’s blue eyes.
