The colour in Ben’s face had beaten a retreat from its purple shade, but still held a blush. ‘Well, we’re not. We’ve just known each other forever. Right, Poppy?’
‘Right.’ Poppy dragged her hand away from her braid. ‘Just friends. That’s all. And since you outed my joke, Sophie, you can work for Ben. I get the feeling you two will get along well. Joe, are you cool to work for me?’
‘Cool.’ Joe shoved his hands in his jean pockets with a nod. ‘Do I get a staff discount?’
‘Sure do. More than that, you can have whatever takes your fancy at cost.’
‘Awesome.’ Joe nodded his approval, then picked up the bucket of cleaning supplies Poppy had brought with her. ‘In that case, I’ll get onto it.’
Poppy flashed him a thumbs up, then turned to Ben. ‘That means Sophie’s yours.’
‘Good.’ Sophie nodded her approval. ‘I like tea. I can bake a bit. And I’m all class.’
‘And all ego,’ Joe muttered as he walked past them towards the kitchen.
‘Whatever.’ Sophie elbowed her brother.
‘Well, now that’s sorted…’ Ben took in the space that was to be his. ‘I’m going to stain that counter a dark brown and find shelving that can go up against the brick wall and stain it the same colour. How are you with a paint brush, Sophie?’
Sophie held her hands up, showing off her intricately designed nail polish. ‘Steadiest hands you’ve ever met.’
‘Excellent.’ Ben held his hand up for a high-five, which Sophie ignored with a shrivel of her nose.
‘Here, I’ve got you.’ Poppy’s palm met Ben’s. She tried not to show her surprise as something zippy and zappy ran its way up her arm and danced its way to her heart. Must’ve slapped his hand too hard. She shook her head and ignored the tingles warming her skin. ‘We’ve got this, Ben. And I promise no holographic tinsel in the windows, but fair warning, there will be holographic other things, glitter and gold, not to mention fluff and fur.’
‘What you’re saying is that if it’ll make a five-year-old girl squeal in delight, you’ll be buying it.’ Sophie lifted her lip in a sneer that matched Ben’s perfectly.
Poppy bit back a laugh. Those two were peas in a pod. Sophie was like Ben had been at that age. Serious. Sure of himself. Not one to suffer fools.
Then again, Ben had suffered Poppy their whole childhood. Putting up with her whimsical ideas and devil-may-care attitude.
The part of her that expected rejection from those closest to her – that had learnt to expect it thanks to the way she was shunned by her mother – had led Poppy to wonder why Ben had stuck with her through thick and thin… then the moment the answer had revealed itself, she’d upped and left London. Left Ben.
One heart-stopping moment with Ben. One heart-wrenching argument with her mother. And her life had changed course…
Poppy put on her imaginary blinkers. There was no point thinking about that night. The past was the past. This shop was her future.
She just had to hope that history didn’t repeat itself.
***
Ben heaved the last of the flatpack shelving into the shop, shut the door, then leaned against it, resting his tired muscles. ‘All those hours spent working out, you’d think unloading shelving would be a breeze. I might even be able to skip my morning workout.’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Poppy glanced up from the floor, where she’d been spreading out the takeaways she’d ordered for dinner. ‘If you mess with those muscles you’ll lose your female customers. Maybe even some of the gentlemen customers too.’
‘I don’t have any customers.’ Ben sank down and began piling rice onto a paper plate, topping it with chicken tikka masala.
‘Not yet. But you will. I can feel it in my bones. By the way, thanks for sourcing the shelving. It’s perfect. The white shelves will look utterly gorgeous on my side, and that wooden shelving will be lush once it’s stained. I found a company who’ll put it all together for us, so we can concentrate on getting the stock sorted.’
‘You mean you’re not going to force Joe and Sophie to put it together?’ Ben forked a spoonful of curry into his mouth and closed his eyes in appreciation. Rich, aromatic… and, most importantly, filling. They hadn’t stopped all day. Cleaning, sourcing products, nailing down the days and times that Joe and Sophie would be working, not to mention what their duties would be. It was tiring work. And there was still so much to do.
Poppy piled her plate high with prawn biryani. ‘There’s no way I’m letting them loose on the shelving. I want it to stand the test of time. And I don’t want to be forking out extra because they’ve not read the instructions properly and screwed it all together the wrong way round and not realised it until it’s too late. Those shelves aren’t the rescrewable type.’
Ben set his plate and fork down and took in the woman before him. The Poppy who’d left would’ve done exactly what she didn’t want Joe and Sophie to do. This Poppy though? She’d been full steam ahead all day, but there was a structure to her ways. And apart from when she’d suggested he make candy-floss cupcakes with little unicorn icing creatures sprinkled on top for any kids who came into the tea shop, he’d been on board with all her suggestions. Any lingering worries he had about opening his shop side-by-side with hers were beginning to evaporate.
Poppy crossed her legs and let out a sigh, her shoulders inching down. ‘God, it’s good to relax, finally. It’s been go-go-go all day. Heck, it’s been go-go-go since I decided to come home. We haven’t even had a proper catch up. We need to remedy that. So, Ben, tell me about your life. Is there anyone special who’s currently resenting you for spending all your spare hours with me at the shop? Has a pearl-clutcher finally scooped you up? Are you keeping her from me in case the Poppy-curse sees another potential wife bite the dust?’
‘You give yourself too much credit.’ Ben tore off a piece of naan and ran it through the gravy. ‘And what on earth is a pearl-clutcher?’
‘Really? You don’t know? A pearl-clutcher is your ideal woman. A woman who likes things to be done the correct way. Who can’t bare the idea of messing with tradition, of breaking the rules.’ Poppy’s hand flew to her throat. Her eyes widened in horror. ‘You’d never believe what I saw the other day. It was shocking, I tell you, shocking. Meredith from down the road put her milk bottle in the rubbish bin. Not the recycling bin. Can you believe it? Terrible. Has she no heart?’
‘Who’s Meredith?’ Ben reached for the bottle of red wine Poppy had placed on the floor along with two plastic cups and poured them each a half-glass. Enough to be enjoyed, but not enough to render them useless at work the next day. ‘And why do you care so much about what she does with rubbish?’
‘Meredith is your ideal woman. A bona fide pearl-clutcher. She is prim. She is proper. She is easily outraged. She would always recycle anything that could be recycled, and anyone who doesn’t is an ingrate, in Meredith’s opinion.’
‘Well, it’s nice that she cares so much.’ Ben took a sip, then set the glass down. ‘Do you recycle all that can be recycled, Poppy?’
‘Of course I do.’ Poppy shovelled a forkful of food into her mouth.
‘And would you be outraged if you saw someone flout your recycling rules?’ Ben covered his mouth with his hand so Poppy wouldn’t see the amusement that was threatening to make its way onto his lips.
Poppy nodded. Then shook her head. Then hastily swallowed. ‘Oh no you don’t, Ben. I will not have you insinuating that I’m a pearl-clutcher. No way. Not going to happen. The