by Laura Briggs
"I was saying the day will be ours, for doing whatever we like. Unless, of course, you have another pressing engagement," he teased.
"Me?" I said. "Nothing at all. Just a Saturday with my husband, that’s all. Picnicking, sightseeing, whatever we want."
I wrapped my arms around his embrace, holding it in place. Smiling, we watched as the lucky recipient of Pippa's bouquet posed with it proudly for a selfie, no doubt dreaming of her future, too.
***
"I'm glad you stopped, Kitty," I said. "Charlotte said it was your day off, so I thought maybe you'd come by."
I had asked Kitty to show up on Saturday morning, on the pretense of returning the plastic security badge from the concert. Since I didn't have to leave for my day out with Matthew for at least a half hour, I was using the excuse of catching up on a last-minute catering menu to be in my office when she arrived.
"Here's the badge." Kitty shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. "Anything else?"
"I was wondering," I said. "Have you worked for Charlotte since you came back to the village?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Do you like working at the fish and chips shop?" I asked. "You sounded kind of attached to it before, but I wasn't sure if that was true."
"It's a job." She shrugged her shoulders. "I pop pasties into boxes and shovel chips. Nothing grand, really. Her sister-in-law bought my gran's shop...so I guess when I came back, she felt she'd offer me something, since there wasn't a place for me there."
I rose from my desk and moved to lean against its front edge. "I guess I was wondering if there's any chance you've ever thought about a different job. Maybe a job as an event planner's assistant?"
A brief silence. I saw a flash of surprise in Kitty's eyes as one eyebrow arched. "With you?" she surmised.
"That's right," I said. "I could use someone to help me. Cliffs House is already busy a lot of the time, and if things truly get busier, then I'll need all the help I can get. The estate would need an extra hand, and I think I'd like it to be you. Lady Amanda has already agreed to hire you, if you're interested."
"What makes you think I'd be good at it?" she asked, sounding puzzled. "I'm not what you imagine a proper assistant to be, am I? Everyone around here would tell you that I'm not posh enough to chat with the toffs who come to tea at a place like this."
"Do you think you could learn to be?" I asked. I raised one eyebrow, waiting.
Kitty met my gaze. "I could," she said, with a touch of defiance. "I know how to mind my 'p's and 'q's when it's necessary. But I suppose for a job like this one, I'd have to put in a bit more effort. Dress the part, and put on some airs and graces."
She made a face for this idea. But I was shrewd enough now to be fairly sure it was a fake effort.
"You definitely would," I answered. "So do you want to try it?"
Kitty pondered this, her expression a conflicted one. At last, she let out a deep breath. "All right," she said. "I'll give it a go."
I smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that," I said. Reaching over, I lifted a box from my desk, one wrapped like a present. "That's why I got you this."
"What is it?" said Kitty, suspiciously — but I saw the two pink spots on her freckled, porcelain cheeks as she asked. She untied the loops of ribbon and opened the lid. Inside was a pair of high-heeled shoes. Black leather ones from a designer knock-off label, with straps across the instep and fashionable heels that weren't quite a stiletto in width or height. They were the same size as the grimy red sneakers Kitty was wearing now, but infinitely more elegant.
Kitty made a face. "What am I supposed to do with these?" she asked, lifting one by the strap between her thumb and forefinger.
"Trust me," I said. "They'll come in handy. Whether you realize it now or not."
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