Page 45 of Something Borrowed

“No, and neither have you.” That shuts him up because we both know it’s the truth. “If I tried until the end of the world, I would still think he’s a dickhead. He speaks to you like you’re five, Stan, and he’s going to send you to sit on the naughty step. Why on earth do you put up with that?”

“He can be kind and he makes me laugh sometimes.” He shrugs. “Bennett’s not so bad.”

“What a ringing endorsement. I feel faint.”

“Oh, shut up. How was your day anyway? Did Jed fire you?”

“Me?” I say in indignation. “He would never do that.”

“One more day attending weddings half-naked, and he might say differently.”

“I’m telling you, half-naked weddings are going to catch on.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I can’t see Leo endorsing it.”

“Not likely. The buttons on his wedding shirt are made of gold. Did I tell you that?”

His full lips are pursed in amusement. “A time or two.”

“Gold. He’s one step down from Elton John. If he displays a desire to bedazzle a piano, I need you to tell him no.”

“Why not you?”

“He can always get around me. You’re the strict one in this partnership.”

“That’s not difficult. You have the impulse control of a penguin.”

I come to a stop outside the newsagents near our flat. “I’m just going to get some gum. Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks. I’ll go and grab a coffee from Starbucks. Do you want one?”

“Nope. See you in a minute.” I watch Stan and Hump walk off, admiring the grace of Stan’s long-legged stride before shaking myself and heading into the shop.

I grab a couple of packets of gum and, as an afterthought, some more mints, thinking of the wedding tomorrow. I have more of these in stock than a polo mint convention. Fresh breath and clean hair are a must for a wedding planner. I add a bumper bag of chocolate buttons to my basket and join the queue, looking idly out of the shop window.

I notice Stan has his coffee and is standing outside the Starbucks. He’s hugging his precious coffee to his chest and talking to Hump, the dog’s head tilted as if he’s about to answer back. Seeing them makes me smile—the two most important beings in my life. A shaft of sunlight lights up Stan as if he’s an angel. It’s completely false advertising, because he’s naughty and irrepressible. The breeze ruffles the dark curls around his high-boned, sweet face, and something warm curls around my heart.

“Alright, Raff?”

I jump and turn to find the shop owner watching me with a knowing smile.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about the events in the stock market today,” I say quickly.

“Oh, yeah? That sounds interesting. Tell me about it, and make sure you go into great detail.” His eyes twinkle.

I slump. “Oh, shut up.”

“Hey, no judgement. Stan’s a good-looking bloke. I’d stare if I were gay myself.”

“I’m glad you’re not. You’d be far too much competition.” Errol is a smooth mover. He has a string of women who come into the shop smelling of perfume. They bring him lunch and coo over him.

He laughs and rings up my purchases. I’m just sliding my change into my pocket when he says, “Oh dear.”

“What?” I turn, following his gaze, and start to laugh. “Fuck. Not another one.”

A man stands next to Stan, his hand on Hump’s harness as he gestures towards the road. He’s obviously intending to help Stan across it.

“Oh dear, another good Samaritan to the slaughter,” I say.

---