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“Yep. I needed all the help I could get.”
“No, you didn’t. You’re a dream hire, you’re friendly and amazing with customers, and you love books.”
He smiled, unable to sit still. “Now, surprise time. Remember I was hanging with Mark and Alex in their new flat a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah…”
“It was like a potluck. We all brought food and stuff, so I made cookies and brownies from Mum’s and Maggie’s recipes—and everyone raved.”
“No way! Mom will love to hear that!”
“And Mark dared me—”
“Oh God.” Riley cringed.
“No, it’s nothing bad. He dared me to get a legit table at a weekend market, see if I could make a few quick quid. Most places won’t let newbies have a go, but I found one and I did a one-off last weekend…”
“What, like a food audition?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “A food audition. So, I went and…” He did a fist pump. “I sold out! I made ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY FUCKING POUNDS! For just two hours’ work—in the rain. Imagine if it was sunny.”
He’s so cute—and happy! “Mom’s cookies are really good! I’d stand in the rain eating them.”
Ben bounced in his chair. “And today they called, asking me back!”
“For another Saturday?”
“No, for the next six weekends. It’s a proper tryout, starting this Saturday. Isn’t that hilarious? Mark will have to pay up massively, the plonker!”
“That’s funny! Is it close to you?”
“Nope. It’s in Bermondsey—southeast London, the Maltby Street Market. It’s about a ten-minute walk from Tower Bridge—you know, the one you keep calling London Bridge?” He giggled. “When you visit, I’m taking you to both bridges so you’ll see the difference—and believe me, there’s a HUGE difference.”
‘When you visit.’ With what money? “Ben, have you given any more thought to when you might visit here?”
He took a breath. “Oh, love, that’s all I think about. With these two jobs, I reckon I can save up, maybe be there for our anniversary.”
Oh? The end of June…eight whole months away.
Her frown made Ben laugh. “Hope! You’re thinking June, aren’t ya?”
“Well, that’s our anniversary.”
“No, don’t be daft! I mean St. Paddy’s Day—our airport anniversary! The day we met!”’
“Ohh! GOOD! I can’t wait eight months to kiss you…” Riley did a double take—Casey was hovering with a bowl of half-peeled potatoes.
Ben’s eyes drifted like he was trying to see what Riley was looking at.
“Rye, sorry.” Casey leaned in and waved through her phone. “Hey, Ben. Sorry, mate.”
“Hiya, Case, all right?”
“I will be when today’s over. Relatives—who needs ’em.” He squinted at Riley. “You might want to come. My uncle is cracking on to your mom.” Casey shivered with revulsion and walked back to the kitchen.
Gross. Riley curled her lip.
Ben grimaced. “Go save Maggie. Call when you get home?”