As they cut up the cake the door opens a crack, and Kit comes in carrying some for both of us.
‘How’s it going? Still in one piece?’
He laughs. ‘I did my uni placement in a jewellers on an upmarket cruise ship so I’m used to this crowd. Their generation are great company.’
This man is full of surprises. I glance at my phone. ‘There’s still half an hour and a few more bottles to get through. If you give up now, they’ll call you a lightweight.’
‘I’ll take that risk. I was wanting a chat with you anyway … about Sunday.’
I put my hands over my ears. ‘I can’t think about that until this is over!’
From his smile he thinks I’m joking. ‘It’s about the timings.’
‘And?’
‘With the numbers Nell’s talking, it would be great if you could come and help me with the hosting and the tours at mine.’
‘Me?’ It’s the end of a long day.‘Why me?’
He blows out his cheeks. ‘You’ve lived the ring-making experience, you know enough to talk about it confidently. No one else here can do that.’
‘And the ice-cream van?’ I can’t actually bring myself to mention the hundred and eighty puddings.
‘That can be part two, once everyone has been through the studio.’ He smiles. ‘Then I’ll be around to help you.’
I’m mentally shaking my head. The van was so I could stay right away from the High Tides people; this way means a hundred per cent exposure. If Kit insists he needs my help with his part I’ll come through with that, but he doesn’t need to be involved with mine.
‘The van will be full of mermaids – they’ll all want to help, they always do.’
‘Nell in the ice-cream van?Really?’ He sounds doubtful.
I have to be realistic, she won’t want to be on her feet all evening. ‘Maybe not Nell.OrClemmie.’
He carries on. ‘If Rye’s on the bar, Plum may prefer to be with him.’
And good luck to anyone who tries to prise her away. It shouldn’t be a shock he’s noticed. He’d have to be blind not to have done.
Which leaves Sophie. Who is also doubtful. ‘Milla may come. Or my mum.’
I’m bluffing. Singles club is the last place she’d want to be, and if Milla is still grounded it’s likely this will be me on my own.
Kit stares down at the curls of buttercream in his hand. Then he grins at me. ‘I had a lot of practice working small spaces on the cruise ship, I promise not to tread on any toes.’
That’s the best reason of all to say no. Me in the confines of an ice-cream van with Kit’s denim-clad butt is a very bad idea. That rear and I need to be properly socially distanced at all times. Two metres clearance is nothing like enough.
I cram a handful of cake into my mouth and try to sound airy. ‘I’ll get back to you on that.’
He nods. ‘You can always use my place for prep. We’ll need a run-through of the tour, and we can talk through your strategy at the same time. You can let me know then.’ He swallows a buttercream rosette.
‘Fabulous. Absolutely.’ It’s totally not. What the hell does he mean by strategy? All I have this far are paper ice-cream cups in pastel colours, a pack of two hundred biodegradable mini spoons, and a promise of trays and containers from Clemmie.
He flicks a cake crumb off his cuff. ‘I can run a few shirts past you too.’
‘Better and better.’ Like there’ll be time for that!
‘Will nine tomorrow be okay?’
This isn’t me! I’m not a caterer or a fashion expert! Before now I’ve always been the kind of person who goes to parties, not someone who puts them on. I’m also someone who throws things together and wings it. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything this big or important before, which is why I must be mad to even try.
