The Little Unicorn Gift Shop

by Kellie Hailes

  ‘No, stop.’ Poppy put her hands up, halting Ben mid-sentence. Whatever he and Milly had gotten up to last night was none of her business. The less she knew the more likely she wasn’t going to be blamed by Milly if things didn’t work out. ‘I don’t need any more information. I’m good. Anyway, I’ve got to put an order in for fresh stock and there’s so much choice in one of the catalogues Joe sourced that I’m feeling a touch overwhelmed.’

  ‘Well, why don’t we go through it together?’ Ben strolled over to Poppy’s counter where she had her laptop browser open on the distributor’s website. ‘Show me what you’re thinking of buying, and I’ll tell you whether I think it’s a good idea or not. Oh, and I was meaning to ask – you know that tea tasting I’m holding next week after the shop closes? Would you mind sticking around for it? Some moral support would be good. I’d ask Sophie and Joe, but they’d want to be paid extra for staying late, and I can’t afford that. Although maybe after Milly’s article goes live we might be able to talk about giving them a pay rise if they stick around and keep doing so well.’

  Ben made to nudge her but Poppy inched away before he could. He and Milly had something going, and she didn’t want to get in between the two of them the way Milly felt she had last time. It was better she backed off. Left them to it. Besides, if he needed moral support for his tea tasting he could ask Milly.

  ‘Sorry, Ben, I’ve got something on.’ Poppy scrolled through the images on the screen and pretended not to see his face fall. ‘As for you helping me with the order, there’s no point. You don’t get unicorns, remember? You hate them. Think they’re the epitome of tacky. You’d only end up convincing me to order nothing and then I’d be out of stock and out of business in a week.’

  ‘Then I’d be out of business. We’re in this together, remember, Poppy? And it’s not like I’ve ignored what goes on over this side of the shop. I see what people buy. I see what makes their hands clap, or their voices go all high-pitched and excitable. I’m not completely oblivious, as much as I might like to be…’ He pulled up a stool for each of them to sit on. ‘Come on, let me help. It’s the least I can do since you opened for me.’

  Poppy knew enough to know when she was stuck between a rock and hard place. If she said no, Ben would know something was up. If she said yes, Ben’s close proximity would force her to deal with the strange and uncomfortable feelings that had arisen. Feelings she’d much rather ignore. But, if she didn’t say yes, she’d be here all day and night trying to make a decision. It had been so easy at the beginning. She’d ordered the unicorn paraphernalia she’d seen on her travels and noted down as things she’d loved to sell. But now she was being sent emails showing latest releases, and it wasn’t just cute cushions and sparkly pens and stuffed toys and unicorn onesies. The whole world, male and female, young and old, had fallen for the happiness and delight unicorns brought, and now it was her job to ensure they were all catered for. Who knew something so cute could create so much pressure?

  ‘Fine.’ She settled on the stool. ‘But you’re not allowed to mock what you’re about to see.’

  ‘Oh, come on. Just a little? To make up for you bedazzling my Jammy Dodgers yesterday?’ Ben reached over and tickled her waist, sending giddiness spiralling through her stomach.

  Since when was Ben a tickler? And why had that little gesture created a whirling dervish in her gut? More importantly, what the hell had Milly done to him last night to make him the most chilled she’d ever seen him?

  That had been her plan. Her job. To make Ben relax, add some sparkle into his life. And Milly had stolen it from her. Poppy sucked in her cheeks and bit down on them. She was being childish. Ben wasn’t exclusively hers. She had no rights over his heart or his downstairs package. She was only annoyed because they’d just begun to get to know each other again, and she’d enjoyed spending time with him, and if he were back with Milly that would cut their time spent together dramatically.

  Except you work in a shop together six days a week for hours at a time.

  Poppy sunk her head into her hands and groaned. That stupid voice of reason needed to be smothered by one of her rainbow-coloured fluffy pillows, immediately.

  ‘It’s okay, Pops. I promise. We’ve got this.’ Ben laid a hand on her shoulder. She made to shrug it off but stopped herself. It wasn’t Ben’s fault she was having some sort of mild breakdown over something that wasn’t important to her. Or at least wasn’t meant to be. Just because her emotions had decided to act like a prat she didn’t have to hurt him.

  Poppy forced a smile to her face. ‘Thanks, Ben. You’re one in a million.’ She moused to the top of the screen. ‘Maybe if we go line by line, I can note down what I think I like. You can mock away – if you really feel the need to – and then I’ll make some solid decisions on what I can afford based on that program you set up. Which has come in handy, by the way. Thank you.’

  Pink tinged Ben’s cheeks as he ducked his head closer to the screen. ‘It’s my pleasure, Poppy. Anything for a friend.’

  A friend. She was just a friend. And she was fine with that. It was what she had always wanted.

  Totally, absolutely, completely fine.

  Yeah right.

  ***

  Ben stole a glance at Poppy. Something was up with her. He could feel it in his gut. Actually, bugger his gut, he could see it with his own two eyes. They’d been working through the online order form on and off all day, and every time he’d come within an inch of her she’d flinched like he was surrounded by an electric fence and she didn’t want to get zapped.

  Ben rolled up imaginary sleeves. He was going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Poppy if it was the last thing he did that day.

  ‘Right, so what have we got here?’ He pulled the sheet of paper that Poppy had used to note down potential items to order closer to the laptop and began to go through the form on the screen. ‘First up we have a unicorn alarm clock, with the unicorn standing on top, its tail wagging between the bells to set them off at the allotted time. Ingenious. Who’d have thought to come up with that idea? And what a marvellous way to wake up.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’ Poppy perched on the edge of her stool, looking like she was ready to take flight if he so much as breathed on her. ‘I bet your alarm clock is your mobile phone. Functional. Plain. With some generic alarm sound.’

  ‘True. It is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the joys of a purple and pink plastic alarm clock with glittery green hands, and sparkly silver numbers.’ Ben typed a ‘5’ in the order box. ‘That many suit you? You get a discount for ten though.’

  ‘Five is fine. If they fly out the door we’ll do a bulk order.’ Poppy eased back into her stool, apparently comfortable next to him so long as things were strictly work related.

  ‘Fly out the door.’ Ben laughed. ‘Nice. Punny.’

  Poppy’s nose shrivelled, like he’d come out with a rank joke. ‘What’s so funny about that?’

  ‘You said “fly out the door”. You know, like a unicorn does. You made a funny pun joke.’

  ‘Unicorns do not fly. Pegasus flies.’ Poppy rubbed the side of her face, drawing attention to the bruises under her eyes. Had she not slept last night? Was she worried about the business… or had she been worried about him? About his seeing Milly? Surely not. It wasn’t like it was anything serious. Just a catch up. One that had turned into dinner, then drinks, a bit of dancing. But why should that bother Poppy? He was a grown man. She must know he could take care of himself. Perhaps then it was work, and the long hours they’d put in, that had her looking under the weather. Though that didn’t explain her need to be at an arm’s length all day…

  Ben rubbed his chin and was surprised to find it whiskery under his thumb. God, he must look a wreck.

  And just like when he blended his own ingredients to create a custom tea, the pieces fell into place.

  Poppy wasn’t unhappy about the ordering. Or the opening up for him. Poppy had put his unkempt app
earance and his late-night text together and decided he’d spent the night with Milly… and the idea of that was upsetting her. Which made no sense. Poppy wanted him to find a girlfriend. Perhaps Poppy was worried Milly’s presence would be a distraction. Well, he’d just have to show Poppy their businesses success came first.

  ‘Right, of course. Pegasus flies. Unicorns walk, trot, canter, possibly even gallop.’ Ben nodded. ‘Got it. So what’s next on the list to potentially order?’

  ‘What about this costume?’ Poppy pointed to an image he’d passed over as being too ridiculous to even contemplate ordering. ‘You climb into it so your back legs are its back legs and there’s a rein that you hold so it looks like the unicorn is rearing while you’re riding it. Brilliant, isn’t it?’

  Ben leaned closer to the screen, trying to see what part of what Poppy was seeing was so brilliant. Their shoulders brushed, and for the first time that morning Poppy didn’t recoil. A small step towards their being back on even ground, but he’d take it. ‘Brilliant. Or just plain barmy. Who’d wear such a thing?’

  Poppy turned to him, her lips parted, eyes stricken with shock. ‘Who would wear such a thing? Who wouldn’t? I can imagine stag do’s running around in them. Couples heading to dress-up parties wearing them. I’ll order a hundred.’

  ‘Poppy.’ Ben laid his hand on hers, stopping her from inputting the order. Again, there was no flinching, and the thunderclouds that had hung about her head had cleared. ‘Might I suggest you start with a couple of those costumes. See how they go. But, I do think you should get in those fluffy unicorn pencil cases. I can see the young girls in the area going crazy for them.’

  Poppy picked up his hand and placed it on the desk. ‘Fine. And you’re right about the pencil cases. I’m going to order an extra one for me. Why should the bright young things have all the fun?’ She waggled her brows, tapped in the rest of the order and sent it off. ‘Thanks, Ben. You’ve been a great help.’

  ‘And so have you. I do appreciate that you opened up for me today, Poppy. I promise it won’t happen again.’

  ‘So your date won’t keep you up quite so late tonight?’ Poppy shut the laptop, anchored her elbow on the desk and placed her cheek in the palm of her hand.

  ‘We’re going to a movie, so we should be home and in bed at a reasonable hour…’ Ben cursed inwardly as he saw the brightness in Poppy’s eyes snuff out.

  God, he’d made it sound like Milly was going to spend the night at his, when that was the last thing he intended to have happen. He’d enjoyed Milly’s company, but he wanted to take things slowly; that way if it didn’t work out no one would get hurt.

  Poppy shut the laptop with a heavy hand. ‘Right. Well. That’s that for the day. I’d better go. I’m beyond buggered.’ Poppy’s hand went to her braid.

  Ben knew what was coming next. A caress. A sure sign she was about to tell a fib. She’d done it since was a girl. Like she didn’t want to tell a lie and patting herself made her feel better about the words coming from her mouth.

  ‘I was binge-watching a TV show last night and got next to no sleep. The bags under my eyes are so big I could carry half my shop in them.’ She released her braid, picked up her laptop, thrust it into her stripy rainbow tote and made for the door.

  She was going to blame her tiredness on watching too much television? Ben knew better. He was tempted to call her on it, to point out the hand on her braid, but stopped himself. Why antagonise a situation when you could apply a salve to it? And he had something up his sleeve he had a feeling would put a spring in Poppy’s step. ‘Oh, and Poppy?’

  Poppy paused at the door but didn’t turn to face him.

  ‘I managed to convince Milly to include your shop in the feature. London’s first unicorn gift shop is far more fashion-forward than a gourmet tea shop, after all.’

  Poppy nodded. Short. Sharp. Like it didn’t mean anything to her, but her shoulders relaxed a little from their perma-slumped state as she started down the road, her bag swinging jauntily.

  His mobile alerted him to a text.

  ‘I’ll be at the tea tasting.’

  His phone pinged again.

  ‘And I can’t believe you just said fashion-forward. Omg.’

  Ben grinned. Warmth flooded his heart, filling it with happiness. And something more. Something deeper. Something that he’d long felt for Poppy but been forced to repress. To forget.

  Because there was no point in having those kinds of feelings for a person who didn’t have those kinds of feelings for you.

  Chapter 9

  Ben clapped his hands, the sharp sound not making the remotest impact on the buzzing crowd who’d turned up for his tea tasting. Poppy could see from the slight sheen on his brow that he’d not expected such a turn out. And she was willing to bet he wasn’t used to dealing with a crowd like this.

  Lucky for Ben, Poppy was, and she knew how to get people’s attention.

  She jammed her thumb and index finger into her mouth and blew. The piercing whistle stopped the happy chatterers in their tracks, their heads twisting, searching out the source of the high-pitched and, Poppy had to admit, uncouth noise.

  Poppy flicked Ben a thumbs up. ‘Go. Your turn,’ she mouthed and ducked behind the counter before the whistle could be traced to her.

  ‘Er, hello, I mean, good evening. Thank you so much for attending what I hope will be Steep’s first of many tea tastings.’ Poppy peeked over the counter to see Ben’s hands turned over each other as he shifted from foot to foot. ‘I’ve got some good, I mean, marvellous teas lined up for you to enjoy. And er…’

  She surveyed the crowd. Their heads were angling away from Ben. Their eyes wandering to the front window where the evening air still held heat and the sun would be warm on their skin. The absolute opposite of Ben’s – and Poppy hated to admit it – cold fish demeanour, combined with the air-conditioned air. Someone had to liven up this event, and Poppy suspected that person wasn’t going to be Ben.

  Straightening up, squaring her shoulders and calling on the skills she’d learnt during her brief career as an in-home party hostess when she lived in New Zealand’s capital city, Wellington – one that saw her wax on enthusiastically about overpriced plastic containers of all things – she made her way round the edges of the crowd to stand beside Ben.

  ‘Ben.’ She clasped his hand and gave him a small smile, one she hoped said ‘trust me’. ‘So sorry I’m so late. I was held up by a unicorn of all things.’ She turned to the audience whose reception had thawed a tad. A few even had amused smiles on their faces. ‘And apologies to you all as well. I know you’ve braved our chilly air to be here. And, let’s be honest, we’d much rather be out enjoying the last rays of the day, probably in a pub, or a bar, or in the garden at home, sipping on something refreshing. But if we were doing that we’d be missing out on the most refreshing drink of all – tea.’

  Out of the corner of her eye Poppy could see Ben’s stance loosen up. His feet stopped dancing a jig and his hands ceased their fidgeting.

  ‘I must admit, before I began working with Ben all I knew about tea was that it came in a bag, you poured hot water on it, shoved in a spoonful of sugar and a good drop of milk, and boom – instant hangover cure.’ Poppy flapped her hand at the audience’s shocked faces. ‘Only joking. Two spoonfuls of sugar. And more milk. If it even looked a hint the colour of tea I’d chuck the whole lot down the sink and start again.’

  Eyes grew wider. Heads shook in dismay. She had them right where she wanted them. ‘Lucky for me, Ben here has taken it upon himself to show me the error of my ways. Since working side-by-side with him, I’ve tried white tea. Which isn’t tea with a truckload of milk, I kid you not. I’ve tried green tea. And it doesn’t taste like dried grass. And I’ve even tried something called a tisane, which was so good I nearly kissed him. And I would have too, but he ducked under the table to avoid me.’ Poppy rolled her eyes in mock-disappointment as the crowd laughed.

  Poppy turned to a curiously f
lushed-faced Ben and gave him a small nod. She had the crowd warmed up, it was his turn to light the fire under them. ‘So, it is with much pleasure that I introduce you to Ben Evans. Owner of Steep, and Muswell Hill’s finest purveyor of tea.’ Poppy began to clap and the group followed suit.

  Poppy stepped to the side and let Ben take centre stage. ‘Thank you, Poppy, for that rousing speech. I must admit, the way you used to drink tea was appalling. I’m glad I had the opportunity to save you from yourself.’

  Poppy waited for Ben to say ‘again’ and was surprised when he left it out. Although maybe after all this time he no longer needed to say it. That had been their dynamic from the moment they met. Ben saved Poppy from getting into too much trouble, and Poppy saved Ben from living the world’s most boring life ever. Except for the twelve years when she’d been gone.

  A lump formed in her throat. What had Ben done during that time? Just sat around working in a job he hated? Going out with women he deemed appropriate but whose company he didn’t enjoy? Meanwhile she’d drifted, from one country to another, town to town, city to city. Convincing herself that it was all one big adventure, when really the adventure of her life had been here all the time. Opening a business with Ben. Starting a life with him.

  Poppy backed towards the kitchen door. What the hell was she thinking? She wasn’t starting a life with Ben. That was… what married people did. And she didn’t do marriage. Or relationships of a ‘we’re in this for life’ nature.

  Besides, Ben wasn’t interested in her. He was seeing Milly. They’d gone out together a few times now, and if his phone’s constant text chirping was any indication of how things were going, they were going very well indeed. Whether she liked it or not. Not that it mattered what she thought. It was Ben’s life. How he chose to live it, who he chose to live it with, was none of her business. And the last thing she was going to do was ask how he and Milly were going. Getting involved in any way, shape or form was not an option. She’d been blamed for their demise once, she wasn’t going to blamed – or give any reason for her to be blamed – again.