The Little Unicorn Gift Shop Read online

  ‘And you, Ben.’ Milly adjusted the neckline of her navy-blue wrap dress, that hugged every curve, while barely containing two very… orb-like ones. ‘Hey, Poppy.’

  ‘Milly.’ Poppy nodded, then busied herself unpacking a fresh shipment. Mobile phone cases, from the looks of it, a selection of pink, purple, gold, and silver – each with glitter floating around the insides.

  ‘I thought I’d pop in, as promised, so we could talk about that date…’ Milly glided up to his counter, a hint of a smile flirting about her lips. Lips that were moving towards him.

  She was going to kiss him? Ben’s heart picked up. Was that how they greeted each other in the magazine world? Full-on lip kisses? Her head angled to the side. No, she was expecting a cheek kiss. His heart slipped back into a steady pace. That he could do.

  He pressed his lips to her soft cheek, then pulled away. He didn’t want Milly getting any ideas. Thinking he was interested. Not that he wasn’t interested. He just wasn’t… sure. Milly had morphed into the kind of woman he thought he might be interested in. Bold, enthusiastic, but something in his gut told him to take things slow. Tread carefully. He glanced over at Poppy, her eyes flicking their way every few seconds, a tiny crease etched between her brows. Her expression matched his instinct.

  Milly’s hand fell across his in a proprietorial manner, forcing him to refocus on her. ‘I’ve also had an idea, Ben. It might be a little out there. A little more showy than you’re comfortable with, but…’ She peered at the counter, her eyebrows raising. ‘But maybe not. It seems you’ve changed. Maybe showy’s your thing now…’

  Changed? Showy? What was Milly on about? Ben inspected the cabinet more closely.

  No. No way. He was not seeing what he thought he was seeing. Except he was.

  His Jammy Dodgers were glistening.

  What the hell was on there?

  Small, square, glittery flecks of red. Glitter. Glitter was sprinkled on the jammy bit of his Dodgers.

  Bloody Poppy had broken his rule. Sneakily at that. Did she truly think he wouldn’t have seen it? Or did she think he’d see it and come over to her way of thinking? He was going to have to have a very stern chat with Poppy, as soon as Milly left. This was unacceptable behaviour. He’d stuck to his end of the bargain, not once letting her customers know that he didn’t get their crazy unicorn obsession. The least he expected was for Poppy to stick to hers.

  ‘Ben, they’re gorgeous. Adorable.’ He tore his glare away from Poppy who was looking at him like the picture of innocence, and was taken aback to see what looked like admiration in Milly’s eyes. ‘I’ll take one, along with a cup of the Pretty in Peach tisane, please.’

  ‘Absolutely. Coming right up.’ Ben nodded, going into business mode.

  ‘Does all your baking come with a unicorn-esque surprise?’ Milly asked as she sat herself down onto one of the shop’s chairs. ‘Or is this Poppy’s doing?’

  ‘It’s all…’

  ‘Because, I was thinking, I could do a feature on your store. At our core my magazine’s all about fashion, but we do like to feature things we view as fashionable. And your shop, Ben, is fashionable. And the fact you’ve elevated a Jammy Dodger is wonderful. They’ll photograph beautifully, and those along with the fit-out, your range of tea and, of course, you, will make this the hottest destination store in London.’

  Ben glanced over at Poppy who rolled her eyes at him, then went back to unpacking the phone cases.

  ‘Oh, well. Um, that sounds great.’

  ‘More than great, Ben. This is a coup for you. We may have to tweak your wardrobe a little though…’ Milly’s gaze turned uncertain as she looked him up and down.

  Of all the days, why did he choose today to wear a light cotton waistcoat with his standard short-sleeved shirt and business pants combination? He looked like a bloody accountant. Not that it should matter what he looked like in front of Milly Smith. And yet it did. Just a little. Her being an ex-girlfriend and all that.

  He picked up a pair of tongs and placed a Jammy Dodger on a gold-trimmed cream plate and set it down in front of her, then poured her tisane. ‘I’m sure I’ve something more appropriate I can wear.’

  ‘Great. Excellent. Good to hear it. That waistcoat is cute and all, in the right setting, but it’s not you. You know what I mean, Ben?’ Her fingertips caressed his hand. Lingered longer than necessary. ‘Anyway, I was thinking we should meet up after work. Have a wine or beer. Chat about the shop, arrange a time for the photographer to come in. But, more importantly, we could catch up on old times.’ Milly looked over her shoulder. ‘You can come too, Poppy. No doubt you two still do everything together.’

  Poppy shook her head. ‘No, not so much. We managed to successfully spend over a decade apart, and I think Ben here’s rueing the day we decided to go into business together. You two catch up, alone. Ben can fill you in on all things Sparkle & Steep without me.’

  Ben didn’t miss the emphasis on “Sparkle”. No doubt Poppy was annoyed that Milly hadn’t mentioned her shop being part of the feature, especially since, though he refused to admit it, her shop was the speciality hook. But if people came to his shop they’d technically also be coming to hers. It was a win for both of them. He’d just have to make sure she saw it that way. Diffuse any tension before it began.

  ‘It’s a date then. Shall we meet at the bar around the corner? Just after five?’ Milly stood and gathered up her bag, took a bite of the Jammy Dodger and set it back on the plate. ‘Mmmm, it’s good.’ She licked her lips, her eyes not leaving Ben.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ben choked out. When had meek and mild Milly become so… forward? ‘And just after five’s fine. Right. See you then.’ Ben waved as Milly strolled out of the shop without a backwards glance.

  Ben spun round to face Poppy. Her arms were folded over her chest and her cheekbones were high with unrepressed delight.

  ‘What happened to Milly? She’s a man-eater! Did you see the way she looked at you? Girl was hungry.’ Poppy raised an eyebrow. ‘Hell, her overtness nearly makes up for her rudeness.’

  ‘She wasn’t rude, she was just focused. Besides, she wasn’t hungry for me, she was hungry for a biscuit. That’s why she came in. That and to say hello to both of us.’

  ‘Didn’t look that way to me. Smart though, inviting me to join you both, great way to see if there was anything or anyone she had to worry about. Making sure I wasn’t getting in the way of any chance of a redo of your relationship. Oh, and as for being hungry for a biscuit. Why don’t you take a look at that plate?’

  Ben glanced down to see the Jammy Dodger intact, apart from a tiny bite. And the tisane hadn’t been touched. ‘Oh.’

  Poppy nodded slowly, the satisfaction she was getting from being right about the encounter far too great. Especially as right now she wasn’t meant to be smug, she was meant to be apologising for breaking his rule.

  ‘Oh, enough about Milly. She just wants to talk about the business, that and no doubt she wants to reconnect with friends close to home now that she’s moved back here. What we need to be talking about, Miss Poppy Taylor, is the fact that biscuit—’ he thrust his forefinger in the direction of the barely eaten treat ‘—and its friends in the cabinet are glistening.’

  ‘Glistening?’ Poppy’s eyes widened in a show of innocence. ‘With jam?’

  Ben stared up at the ceiling, exasperation overtaking annoyance. Why couldn’t Poppy make anything easy, just for once? He zeroed back in on she who would glue the world with glitter if she could. ‘Don’t you act all innocent with me. I’ve seen those big wide green eyes profess innocence a hundred times. A thousand times. You broke my rule. You crossed the line. No glitter. No sparkle. No unicorns in Steep. You agreed. We had a deal.’

  ‘Ben.’ Poppy took a step towards him. ‘Ben. Ben. Benny. Ben. Ben.’ She shuffled closer with every mention of his name.

  Ben took a step back. There was no way he was letting her work that you-love-me-even-though-I’ve-been-a-bit-naughty magic on
him. It may have worked on the local priest when, at the age of ten, she’d dipped into the donations bag, been caught and swore the money wasn’t for her, but for the homeless person she’d seen sleeping on a park bench on the way to church.

  The priest had given her the benefit of the doubt after she’d pulled those wide eyes on him and summoned a few tears. Then he’d marched her down to the park, and around the park, until they found a homeless person to give the money to. By that time Poppy had confessed that she’d planned to put the money towards rollerblades, and the priest was sure she’d learnt her lesson.

  ‘You’re thinking about the church thing again, aren’t you? I was a little naughty once. Just the once. And you can’t let it go. I’ve given plenty of money to those in need since then.’ Poppy thumped her chest with her thumb. ‘My own money.’

  ‘Well, it seems your good behaviour has come to an end, because putting glitter on my Jammy Dodgers was an act of war.’ Ben swallowed down a laugh as Poppy’s wide-eyed innocent act transformed into wide-eyed horror.

  ‘You can’t do that, Ben. You can’t go to war on me. Or my customers. These are just people who want to let a little happiness into their lives. To introduce a touch of magic. And look, it worked for you.’ She pointed to the biscuit on the table. ‘That little bit of glitter made Milly nearly jump through the roof with excitement. She’d come up with that article idea to reel you in, but those biscuits will make the article really pop. She’s probably thinking you might actually be more fun now, too. That you might be the kind of man she could have fun with. And I’m telling you now, Ben, that Milly is clearly the kind of woman who wants fun. I can’t believe I ever called her a pearl-clutcher. Who knew hiding behind that sensible exterior was a vixen just begging to be released? A tigress even.’ Poppy pawed the air and purred loudly.

  Ben’s irritation seeped away as a laugh burst forth before he could tamp it down.

  ‘Yay!’ Poppy danced towards him and pulled him into a hug. ‘You’re not angry at me anymore.’

  ‘I’m still a bit angry that you told the priest I was party to your thievery back in the day. Walking around in the snow for an hour gave me chilblains.’ The stiffness in Ben’s shoulders and arms disappeared as Poppy pressed up against him. A ‘force-hug’ she’d called it when they were younger. Her infallible approach to making Ben less grumpy with her. Apparently, it still worked.

  He caught a whiff of her hair. Fresh apples, mixed with what smelled like an apricot-based perfume. A twitch occurred in an area that had no business twitching when his friend was trying to diffuse the tension between them.

  It seemed Poppy’s force-hugs had gained some serious power over the years.

  Ben broke the hug before his nether region had any further ideas and turned his attention to the dishes left by Milly.

  Milly, who had become a vibrant and beautiful woman. Milly, who also kind of scared him. Unlike Poppy – who was every bit as vibrant and beautiful, but exuded sunshine, not seduction.

  ‘Sooooo.’ Poppy stretched the word out in one big wheedle. ‘Can we keep the glitter in the Jammy Dodgers? It’s not like it looks tacky. I mean, if I’d used the holographic edible glitter it would have looked out of place, just wrong. But the red glitter?’ She kissed the tips of her fingers. ‘Perfection.’

  Ben sighed. He wasn’t going to win this one. But then when it came to Poppy he rarely did. Rarely? More like never. ‘Fine. But that’s it. No more. I’m serious, got it?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘Got it. Now would you look at the time? Close to closing.’ She took the plate and teacup out of his hands. ‘You go freshen up for your big date. I’ll tidy up here.’

  ‘It’s not a date.’ Ben passed the crockery over. ‘It’s just a quick interview about the shop.’

  ‘Sure, sure. If it helps you cement that belief try and mention my side of the shop. See if it makes it into the article.’ Poppy air-quoted the last word, then disappeared into the kitchen. ‘And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  Ben grinned at Poppy’s sing-song tone. Don’t do anything she wouldn’t do? Well, that left everything.

  Chapter 8

  Poppy yawned into her hand and furtively eyed the front door, searching for signs of her erstwhile business partner. Ben had texted at one in the morning to ask her to open up for him as he’d be a little late.

  Little? It had just gone ten and she and Sophie had been run off their feet since the early hours serving takeaway cups of tea to people on their way to work, not to mention plating up biscuits and slices and cup after cup of tea to a local group of mums, all busy shushing and rocking their babies to sleep, or bouncing and cooing at them to keep them awake.

  Meanwhile her own shop sat unattended since it was Joe’s day off, and those who’d shown interest had walked out when she couldn’t get to them in time.

  It was like she was being punished for glittering Ben’s biscuits yesterday. But was she really? Her plan had worked. Bringing a little sparkle into his shop had brought some sparkle into his life.

  In the form of Milly Smith, of all people.

  She held the flat of her palm to her tummy, the thought unsettling. It was like history was repeating itself and somehow, again, she’d engineered the two of them to get together. Except the first time it had involved prompting Ben to ask her out, knowing that Milly, who violently blushed whenever Ben glanced her way, would say yes.

  It had been an act of self-preservation. She’s started to feel things towards Ben. Feelings that kept her awake at night. That saw her wake up sweaty, uncomfortable, and scared. Scared that if she let things continue, if she slipped up and admitted her feelings, she’d face rejection from the one person who had time for her. The one person who cared about her. There was no way she was letting those feelings ruin their friendship, and Milly had seemed like an easy way to disrupt the situation.

  And it had worked, for a while. Until Milly could no longer ignore the way Ben’s friendship with Poppy meant more to him than his relationship with her, and had begun to see her as a tall, black-haired blockade that stopped Ben from talking about any kind of future.

  Poppy had done her best to show Milly that her friendship with Ben had nothing to do with his lack of commitment. Even going so far as to put distance between herself and Ben. Telling him she couldn’t join them. Saying she wasn’t feeling well. That she had other plans. But every time Ben had attempted to involve Poppy, saying that he missed her, that he felt like he never saw his best friend anymore, Milly had pointed the blame squarely in Poppy’s direction.

  This time would be different, though. Adult Poppy didn’t have those kinds of feelings towards Ben, because adult Poppy knew better. She knew love was as real as unicorns. A nice idea, but in the end, never really there. Friendship though? That could stand the test of time. Which was why Ben and Milly could date until the end of time, and if things went wrong it would have nothing to do with her.

  Poppy checked her phone’s clock again. Quarter past. Ben and Milly must have had a good time. But hopefully not so good a time that this was going to become a regular occurrence, because she had no time to be taking care of Ben’s business when she had her own to run.

  ‘What’s got your knickers in a knot, Pops? You look ready to wage a mutiny.’

  Poppy jumped and spun round to see Ben propping up the door, looking…

  ‘What the hell did she do to you? You look…’ Poppy searched for the word but failed to find it. It wasn’t like Ben looked a wreck, he didn’t. His hair was combed in its usual Hollywood matinee idol style. His olive green linen shorts were as wrinkle free as ever, but in place of a crisp short-sleeved cotton shirt he wore a navy polo. And cool, casual, canvas shoes. Not his usual loafers. Red ones, at that. Which struck her as being very un-Ben-like.

  ‘Poppy could you stop staring at me like I’m something on a slide under a microscope.’ Ben picked off an invisible fleck of dust on his polo sleeve, then sauntered into the shop.

  Sauntered. />
  Ben was sauntering.

  Ben didn’t saunter. Ben strode. Marched. His movements were efficient, not fluid.

  He looked like a man who’d just spent a night… Poppy clapped her hand to her mouth. Had Ben slept with Milly? Had he turned into a one-night-stand kind of guy?

  Something twisted in the depths of her stomach. Tightened. Like when you were about to have to run to the toilet after eating something dodgy. Except Poppy hadn’t eaten anything remotely likely to cause her stomach grief. And it didn’t explain the dull ache in her heart.

  What the hell was wrong with her? Was she upset that Ben had enjoyed a little between the sheets tango? Was it jealousy because it had been so long since she’d enjoyed the company of a man?

  Yeah, that had to be it. Must be. But still, weird.

  Poppy rubbed her stomach and commanded it to settle down.

  ‘Are you all right, Poppy? You’ve gone a little green around the gills.’ Ben’s forehead creased in worry and he made to move towards her.

  Poppy backed away, not wanting to be touched by Ben when he’d just come from another woman’s bed.

  Again. Weird. What was up with that? What was up with her?

  ‘I’m fine, Ben. Women’s problems. You know how it is. Except, you don’t. Because you’re a man.’ With a penis, apparently. A working one. Poppy forced herself not to race to her side of the shop and give Ben more reason to be worried about her. ‘So you and Milly had a good night then?’

  The corners of Ben’s lips twitched up. ‘We did, actually. Better than expected. She’s a lot of fun.’

  I bet she is. Poppy pushed the thought away and squashed down the squirming in her tummy that felt uncomfortably like… jealousy. There was no way she was jealous. Just… irritated. Ben shouldn’t be focusing on a relationship when he had a new business to run. The business should be his priority, not Milly.

  ‘In fact we’re going out again tonight.’ Ben poured himself a cup of tea. ‘God, I need this. I’m gasping. Milly gave me a run for my money last night. She had me up…’