‘Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it,’ Clemmie replied, her eyes shining. ‘I’ve had a blast and feel a little tipsy with all that champagne. Thank you for this morning.’
He took her hand briefly, his touch reassuring. ‘Glad you enjoyed it.’
They watched as the boutique’s staff wrapped each item in a beautiful box, lined with fine tissue paper that Clemmie wasconvinced was edged with gold. The bags were handed to her, and Oliver reached for his wallet.
‘It’s on me,’ he said firmly.
Clemmie’s eyes widened. ‘Oliver, no. That’s too much. I can’t let you.’
‘Yes, you can.’ His tone softened as he reached for her hand. ‘When you visit me in America, I’ll make sure we go to an event where you can wear it all again. Consider it an investment in our memories.’
Was that an official invitation? He was making his intentions clear. It didn’t matter if he was on the other side of the world, he still wanted to see her. She liked that thought.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the price total. It was exorbitant, but the way Oliver looked at her, like she was worth every penny, made her heart flutter. Finally, she nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
They stepped outside, the cool air brushing against their faces as Clemmie clutched the boutique’s elegant bags. ‘I do feel like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman!’ They had barely taken a few steps when they almost collided with a striking woman in a tailored coat and towering heels. Her hair was styled in perfect waves, and as she spun round her sharp eyes immediately swept over Clemmie, taking in her bags and her appearance before narrowing slightly.
‘Fiona,’ Oliver said, his tone polite but edged with tension.
‘Oliver,’ she replied, her voice smooth as silk but carrying an unmistakable chill. Her gaze flicked back to Clemmie, scrutinising her for a moment before shifting back to the boutique behind them. ‘Wow, making bold choices, I see. That Café on the Coast must be doing well despite that bad review of yours.’ Clemmie felt suddenly uncomfortable, unsure why Fiona would bring that up. There was an undertone in her words that Clemmie couldn’t quite place, but it made her feel exposed ina way she hadn’t expected. Fiona’s attention returned to Oliver, her smile turning coy. ‘I suppose you’ve always had an eye for the unconventional,’ she said lightly, her words dripping with implication.
‘Good to see you, Fiona,’ Oliver said curtly, his tone leaving no room for further conversation. He placed a steadying hand on Clemmie’s back and gently steered her away.
‘Lunch?’ Oliver suggested. ‘We’ve earned it.’
‘Lunch is definitely on me,’ Clemmie replied, glancing back over her shoulder to see Fiona disappear at the end of the road. ‘What did she mean, despite that bad review of mine?’
Oliver shrugged. ‘Probably just because you mentioned it in your winner’s speech. Who knows what goes through Fiona’s mind? Take no notice of her. I know a gorgeous bistro just down here.’
Despite Oliver’s attempt to brush it off, Fiona’s comment lingered in Clemmie’s thoughts. It felt like Fiona was questioning her worth in a way that left her doubting herself, even though she knew better than to let it get to her. She didn’t want to give Fiona the satisfaction of ruining her mood, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
‘Sounds just perfect.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Clemmie was lying in bed, cradling her morning coffee, mentally preparing for the exciting day ahead. Today was the royal garden party, and thinking about entering Eldenbridge Palace made her both nervous and excited. She swung her legs to the floor and wrapped herself in her dressing gown before grabbing her coffee and heading down the stairs. She was about to attend one of the most prestigious events in the country, and she could hardly believe it.
‘I woke up to coffee and I wanted to wake up to you.’ Clemmie slipped her arms around Oliver’s waist and snuggled into him where he was standing by the stove, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something delicious filling the air.
‘Good morning! I thought you might need a little time to wake up before we dive into the day.’
Clemmie smiled back, ‘I’m excited… and a little terrified, to be honest.’
‘You’re going to be brilliant. Just think, the whole of the royal garden party is going to sample your torte!’
‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’
‘Have you thought about the recipes you want to showcase in your cookbook?’
‘I have! I want to use a lot of the coastal recipes that my great-great-grandmother introduced to The Café on the Coast because we still have those favourites on the menu today.’
‘Any thoughts on the title of the cookbook?’
She smiled, ‘I thought I’d keep it simple, maybe something likeCook with Clemmie!orThe Café on the Coast Cookbook.’
‘Both good ideas. I’ve made you something light for breakfast,’ he said, motioning to the plate on the table. ‘Something gentle on the stomach, in case the nerves get the better of you.’
Clemmie looked down at the breakfast he’d prepared: soft scrambled eggs with chives, a few slices of smoked salmon, and a warm croissant, golden and flaky. ‘You’re a keeper!’ she exclaimed happily, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she suddenly felt a twinge of sadness. ‘But you’ll be gone by the end of the week.’ She pulled a sad face.
