Page 1 of A London Little's Bunny

Chapter One

Essie paused to stare as she walked through the doors of the big department store.

“Oi! Look where you’re going!” said someone behind her, and she murmured an apology and moved aside.

Hope’s Department Store windows had always been a big deal, especially here, in the centre of London. Tourists flocked to see them, and as a child she’d pressed her nose up against that very glass, staring at the displays. And now? Now she got to contribute to one of them.

“Miss Bell?” A quiet, slightly gruff cough accompanied the enquiry. “From Stuffie Hospital?”

“Stuffie Hospital London,” she corrected, and spun on her heel to face the speaker. “Yes, that’s me. Your store is beautiful.”

The man in front of her was shorter than his voice implied, and the stubble on his chin made her hands itch, wanting to reach out and touch it. It was one of the reasons she’d become a designer, her fascination with textures, and his face looked like it would have all of the best stubbly feels. She bounced on the balls of her feet, letting out stimming energy subtly, and then settled down.

“Thank you.” His face was fairly blank, and she couldn’t read him. Essie didn’t like that. Not being able to read people was one of her biggest nightmares. It was why she liked working at Stuffie Hospital so much; being surrounded by other queer and neurodiverse people made navigating the work environment that much easier. “If you’d like to come to the staff offices, I can show you what the window designer has in mind? And then you can work in tangent with them?”

“That sounds good,” she said, smiling sunnily at him. Smiling made people like you; everyone knew that.

He didn’t smile back.

“Are you going to tell me your name?”

He looked bashful then, a heat flushing through his cheeks that made Essie almost rush to reassure him, but she held back, something telling her that that probably wouldn’t be the best move. “Of course, I’m so sorry Miss Bell. I’m Ben Jyles, Store Manager here at Hope’s.”

Essie swung her hand out to shake his. “Lovely to meet you Ben. And please, it’s Essie.”

“Yes, Miss Bell,” he said, and Essie wasn’t sure if he was ignoring her request on purpose, or if he was just so off-kilter because he’d forgotten his own name. So she followed him back to the staff offices and tried very hard not to squee over the fact that she was getting to see behind the scenes at Hope’s.

‘Hope’s Uncensored’, her best friend Charlie had called it. Think of all the drama you’ll get to see, of all the tea that would remain otherwise unspilled, he’d said. Charlie was a fan of drama, although you wouldn’t know it from how professional he was with his Stuffie Hospital clients. But the moment they were gone, he’d come storming up from the Restoration Hub to her office, dying to tell her all. I’d burst if I couldn’t tell someone, he said. And I can’t tell people outside of work; that’d be in breach of contract.

Essie had very nearly pointed out that he was probably in breach of whatever nondisclosure agreement he’d signed by telling her, but she wasn’t exactly going to tell anyone, and it was better that he tell someone inside the business.

But looking at Ben’s smart jacket in front of her, she was beginning to think that there’d be no gossip to share at all. Disappointing.

“Here we go,” he said, as he opened the door to a room flooded with natural light. There were designs spread out all over the tables, with fabric swatches, and Essie couldn’t help but give a squeal of delight.

“You want to have a look at those?”

“Yes please,” answered Essie, without looking up, and she skipped over to the table and started feeling the swatches.

“Thanks Ben,” said the woman. “So you’re Essie.”

Essie looked up, startled out of her fabric hyperfocus. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“I’m Briana; Susie’s one of my best friends,” said the older woman.

“Ohhhh,” said Essie, everything suddenly clear. “I guess that’s how I’ve gotten this gig then?” Susie was the CEO of Stuffie Hospital London, her American cousin Abigail owning the entire brand.

“It did make sense to bring you guys in when Hope’s said that they wanted soft toys in this summer’s window display.”

“Cool!” said Essie. She turned to say thank you to Ben, but the quiet man had already gone. “Where did Ben go?”

Briana laughed. “Ben’s pretty quiet, especially for a manager. I’m used to them being more loud and demanding, but he manages to run the place pretty well. And he’s surprisingly sweet—when he deigns to speak, that is.”

There was something in Essie that felt a little disappointed that Ben hadn’t stuck around to see what her plans were for her part of the window, but she guessed he was just super busy. “Shall we talk through the plans then?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Briana’s summer window display plans were pretty clear; she wanted each section of the window display to be inspired by a different book: she’d chosen a Jenny Colgan romance for beachwear and picnics; the new Alyssa Cole thriller to match the gothic style furniture that was in vogue; a queer cosy fantasy about orcs and coffee shops to match the cottagecore clothes from adult fashion; and finally, a picturebook called Willow and Bunny, for the children’s department.

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