“You take these. I’ll get another order.” Sam pushes the basket toward me, stands, and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be my first choice for a date. I’ll be back.”
“You should use mayonnaise. It tastes much better than that,” McMillian says to him.
“No.”
I playfully lean over the fries after he leaves. “So... do you think Sam has a shot at winning the Princess Alice Cup?”
“Winning? Probably not. The Life Guards look toostrong this year, but he does have a real shot at making the top eight.”
“When do they announce the winner?”
“At the Royal Windsor Horse Show in May.”
“And can members of the public attend?”
“They certainly can.”
A plan starts to form in my mind. If Sam makes the top eight, I will definitely be in attendance at Windsor. Actually, it won’t be just me, it’ll be a few of Sam’s closest relatives too.
McMillian scratches his forehead. “Do you mind telling me a little more about your friend, Liz? How can I make a good first impression on her?”
Over the next three weeks,things finally settle down at the Clarissa Lee Atelier. I won’t be expected to produce the next round of dresses until August. I have a little time to breathe and to put my plan into action.
At four in the afternoon on a Wednesday, I relax in my new flat’s sitting room. Tapping the prearranged meeting link, I take a deep breath and greet Sarah and Celine.
“Hi, girls.” I wave to the two grinning teens.
“Cheers, Min.”
“Hiya, Min.”
“Are you ladies doing okay today?”
They both nod.
“What about you?” Sarah asks.
I learned during our first interaction that she’s a very sweet, polite, well-mannered girl. She’s much more mature than Celine, although she is only two years older.
“Well, thank you. I just saw your brother today.”
“You did? Did you tell him we said hello?” Celine eagerly says.
“I waved, but he couldn’t talk. He was on duty at Horse Guards.”
“Oh.” Celine deflates.
“But I thought you two might like to hear that he was sitting in the sentry box today as a Boxman. I took a bunch of photos and videos for you. I think it’s actually the first time I’ve ever seen him ride a horse.”
“Please send them to me. I’d love to get a few photos printed and send them to Grandad Baker,” Sarah chimes in. “He’ll be chuffed that Sam’s efforts have paid off. I knew my brother could do it.”
We chat for a few minutes about how amusing it was to watch Sam and his horse being swarmed by tourists.
“A few of the SearchTube streamers who film there will also have Sam on their channels,” I add.
Celine wrinkles her nose. “It’s so weird to me that these people spend all day filming tourists and the soldiers at Horse Guards. If I were Sam, I’d be annoyed. I wouldn’t want my every move caught on camera.”
I know Sam doesn’t care for it—he’s told me as much—but he understands that people are fascinated by what he does for a living. Most of the people who watch the videos might never actually make it to London or Horse Guards.
