How dare he mock her? And how had she been so stupid to think he might have spent the week deliberating on how to take the next step?
She grabbed the basket. ‘I need to skedaddle, if you’ll excuse me.’
He put a hand on her arm and she shook it off. ‘Clem, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, honestly. In fact, I was kinda hoping it might happen again. Maybe somewhere more private than the supermarket or the cafe driveway …’
She looked up, searching his face for any hint of jest, and was relieved to see he looked as genuine as he sounded. Spencer leaned closer, lowering his voice even further.
‘The timing isn’t great and I totally understand if you’re not interested, given the ridiculous TV thing, but I don’t think it was a mistake. In fact, it’d be more of a mistake to pretend I only like you for your coffee. And your amazing honey-flavoured creations.’
She smiled, the heat in her cheeks fading a little.
‘If you’re not at all interested, and you really do think it was a mistake, just tell me and I’ll shut up right now and get back to the honey stall, and the only time you’ll see me is when we’re dealing with amateur actors and swashbuckling pirates.’
Clem shook her head, liking the way his lips tugged up at the corners. ‘I’m good with ridiculous.’
He carried her bags, along with his, back to their stalls and she just about floated up the steps and into the coffee van.
‘That took a while,’ Selina grumbled, passing her three orders. But the teenager’s pointed comment barely dampened Clem’s spirits. She even found it amusing when a group of teenage girls lingered by the honey tent, whispering and giggling.
‘God, they’re lame,’ said Selina, rolling her eyes as the girls posed for a photo with a reluctant Spencer. ‘He’s not even a C-grade celebrity, and he’s ancient. They’ve obviously got nothing better to do.’
As the markets drew to a close, Clem noticed more women passing by the honey tent. She didn’t find it quite as funny when the pair of ladies asking him to pose for a photo were closer to her age than the bossy teenagers.
Was she prepared to compete with random strangers in a game she had no idea how to play? Spencer waved off the women and turned, catching Clem staring at him from her van. A sheepish cringe crossed his face, then was quickly replaced with a warm smile just for her.
Ready or not, she was prepared to step up to the plate.
‘If a magazine article leads to this much attention, what’s it going to be like when the show airs?’ Louisa asked from the back of the marquee, where she was stacking up the last of the honey. ‘That minx who wanted her t-shirt signed was a little too friendly for my liking. Hasn’t she heard of decency?’
Spencer bundled up the gazebo tie-downs and stowed them in the bag with the tent pegs. ‘It was probably a dare,’ he said. ‘At least we sold a bumper load of honey today.’
They were taking home fewer than half the boxes they’d brought, and he was pleased his blip of attention had at least had a positive roll-on effect for South Giddi Giddi.
‘Maybe a new branding direction wouldn’t hurt. But perhaps wait for us to leave the country before you launch an advertising campaign in your budgie smugglers, like the ladies suggested earlier.’
‘Enough of this talk of leaving the country,’ Spencer said, his amusement evaporating. ‘The only way I’d even entertain the idea of you leaving is if the producers and editors cast me as a villain in the final edit. In that case, book me a ticket and I’ll come with you.’
Louisa set down a bundle of beeswax wraps and rested a hand on his shoulder. ‘Anyone who knows you won’t believe an iota of whatever rubbish they serve up.’
Spencer gave her a grateful smile. He was ninety-nine per cent sure they’d be in his corner no matter what, but that one per cent of doubt was a weighty presence.
He looked at the neighbouring site, catching a glimpse of Clem’s fine derrière as she checked the van’s tyres and chassis.
She was swiftly becoming one of the main reasons he was concerned about the TV show airing next month, and he could only hope she’d be as forgiving as Ian and Louisa if the producers portrayed him in a negative light.
Clem suddenly straightened and looked in his direction, and from the mischievous glint in her eye, he suspected she’d caught him gawking.
‘Safe travels home,’ he called.
Yep, that’s how you impress the gals. Wave and speak like an old grandpa. But she smiled and waved back before checking the trailer hitch one last time and driving out.
Spencer was putting the last of the beeswax candles into his ute when he spotted Selina among the teenagers outside the popcorn stall. She’d been one of his drama students at Narradarra Secondary, before he’d taken the job at Penwarra Area School. While there wasn’t much evidence of the cheery tween he remembered from that time, it certainly looked like she’d retained her dramatic flair, with all that stomping around and glaring at Clem.
‘Reckon there’re a few actors and actresses among that bunch?’ Louisa asked, following his gaze. ‘We’ve got one more role to fill, I could do with a strong male lead.’
Spencer didn’t recognise the boys in the group, but there was something familiar about the teen with dark hair and even darker, heavier eyebrows. He wasn’t a student fromeither Penwarra, Narradarra or Cockatoo Cove—at least not in Spencer’s time.
‘I think we’ll wait for someone to come to us. We can always rewrite the role.’
