The Little Unicorn Gift Shop: A heartwarming romance with a bit of sparkle in 2018!

‘What? You’re not going to tell me I’m being ridiculous?’ Poppy laughed, the sound brightening the room, as it had always done. ‘I was expecting you to give me that look of derision that I bet had people quailing in court.’

‘I wasn’t in court, Poppy. You know I worked in property law.’ Ben sat back down and took a long drink of his wine.

‘Well, you could have been. You could have changed directions, for all I knew. It’s not like you’ve bothered replying to the emails I’ve sent in the past year or so. Not with any news of substance. “I’m fine” does not an email make.’ Poppy crossed her arms and tucked her hands in her armpits.

Guilt swarmed in Ben’s gut. That was Poppy’s signature move when she was hurt, sad, upset or wanting to shut someone out. And he’d been the cause of it. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t reply all that much, or all that well. Life got busy. You know how things are. Or maybe you don’t… I don’t know.’

‘Of course you don’t know. You didn’t ask. Even when we were emailing on a sort-of regular basis you never asked questions about my life.’ Poppy sunk her top teeth into her bottom lip, then released them. ‘You probably thought my life was one great adventure. Swanning from country to country. Chasing summer. Sunbathing. Swimming. Being frivolous and free while you spent hours poring over papers and whatnot. The thing is, I worked, Ben. The whole time. Yes, I saw sights. Yes, I had a good time. But I also worked my arse off. It wasn’t one long holiday.’ Poppy’s jaw jutted out, just as it always did when she was holding back – trying to keep her emotions in check, trying to be brave. ‘Just because I choose to smile instead of scowl, choose to laugh instead of lift my lip and sneer at the world, it doesn’t mean I don’t have a serious bone in my body. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care.’ Poppy untucked her arms, lifted her chin, and took a deep breath in. ‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m being an idiot. So, back to business…’ She picked up her pen, lowered her gaze to the page so he couldn’t see how she was feeling, and scrawled two short sentences.

‘No combining space. No combining anything.’

Poppy set the pen down on the paper with a slap. And just like that, Ben was a boy again, and the urge to make Poppy feel better was there. The need to reach out and run his hand down her braided rope of ebony hair. To hold her close. To tell her she was wonderful. She was enough. That despite whatever complicated things were happening in her life, in her head, that they could deal with it together. If she just let him in.

Except she wouldn’t. He was an idiot to think her time away travelling would have changed that. Changed her.

‘I know you didn’t just sunbathe your way round the world. Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

Poppy waved his apology away. ‘I’m fine. Really.’ She looked up, a smile fixed on her face. One that didn’t chase away the shadows in her eyes. ‘If anything, I’m kicking myself. I should have expected this to happen. You’ve always been so paint by numbers. Knowing what you wanted, why you wanted it, and how you were going to get there. You’re the most organised person I know. Heck, I bet even your underwear drawer is colour-coded. Light to dark, from left to right. Or is it alphabetised by brand? Or arranged by occasion? Your day-to-day underwear would be at the top, followed by church underwear, because you’d be too respectful to wear anything threadbare or holey to church.’

‘I haven’t been to church since I moved out of home. I just went because it made Mum happy.’

‘But I bet you still go to St James’ every Christmas and Easter.’ Poppy raised an eyebrow, daring him to deny it.

‘I do. With Mum.’ Ben nodded, not seeing any point in lying. ‘But I don’t have special church underwear.’

‘But I bet you’ve got dating underwear. The good stuff. Fits perfectly. Manly colours. Navy blue. Black. No tacky patterns. Although I did see some unicorn boxers that I could order for you if you wanted to shake things up…’

Ben waved Poppy’s suggestion away. ‘Not in a million years will I wear unicorn boxers. Or unicorn anything. And frankly, Poppy, I’m starting to think you’re far too interested in the contents of my underwear.’ Ben bit down on his tongue. What had he just said? He surely didn’t say ‘contents of my underwear’.

He glanced at Poppy who was doubled over, elbows on knees, her shoulders shaking as airy gasps filled the space between them.

‘I mean… not my underwear… my contents… er, I mean my drawers. I know you wouldn’t be interested in the contents of my…’ Shut up, Ben. God, what was going on with him? Usually he was calm, collected, in control of what came out of his mouth. But being in the same room as Poppy meant the words flew off his tongue as quickly as they came into his head. It was the Poppy-effect in full flight. Her presence had always left him a little unsteady. Off kilter. Hell, he never put a foot wrong when he was left to his own devices, but whenever she entered his sphere, since the day they met, he’d found himself in all sorts of harmless trouble. Nipping over to his neighbour’s house to relieve their tree of apples. Getting tipsy on cider Poppy had stolen from her mother’s fridge when they were fifteen. He’d been so ill the next day his parents had taken pity on him and decided the hangover was punishment enough. Life with Poppy was more interesting, but it also meant there was a huge chance things could go askew.

She could promise things were going to go smoothly all she wanted, but he only had the past to go by, and that made him nervous.

‘Oh God, you’re hilarious. You and your rules.’ Poppy straightened up and smoothed back the tendrils of hair that that had come loose from her braid to frame her face. ‘You were always one for them, but gosh, look at you now. So serious. So earnest. So much more… rule-y. What happened, Ben? You used to know how to have a bit of fun, but now…’ Poppy’s gaze started at his perfectly shone shoes, before she worked her way up to his suit pants, his suit jacket, lingered on the tie, then finished on his cut-just-that-day hair. ‘Now you’re all about looking perfect, and making everything perfect, and being perfect. What’s wrong with a little sparkle and shimmer and shine? What’s wrong with unicorns? They make people happy. They make people smile. Do you not want to be happy and smiley, Ben?’

Did he not want to be happy? Of course he did. But right now he had too much riding on the success of Steep. If he didn’t do well, if leaving his practice had been a mistake, he’d have to deal with the disapproval of his father for… well, probably ever. ‘Look, Poppy, I just want to make sure my business succeeds. And for that to happen “Steep” needs to be taken seriously, and unicorns don’t exactly project that mentality. It’s one thing to go halves in this space, but there needs to be separation. No sharing, no boundary crossing, you understand? “Sparkle” can shimmer and shine all it likes, but “Steep” needs to be as solid and dependable as a good cup of tea.’

Poppy rolled her eyes so hard Ben feared they were going to pop out of their sockets. ‘Fine. I understand. I’ll stick to your stupid rule, but I’ve got one rule you need to abide by.’

‘Really?’ Ben mashed his lips together to stop a smirk appearing. Poppy, the ultimate disregarder of rules, was going to set one? ‘What’s your rule?’

‘My rule is this – if you so much as look at one of my customers like they’re mad for loving unicorns, if you so much as make a snide remark, if I see a hint of side-eye when a man comes in and buys the unicorn underpants I plan on selling, then I’m out. I’ll give you plenty of time to find a person to take over my side of the space. Or enough time for you to see your bank manager, or whoever, and sort out your expanding into my side of the shop, but I won’t stick around. You take Steep seriously? Well, I take Sparkle every bit as seriously. My life savings are going into this, and I don’t have assets I can sell or people I can ask to help me should things falter. Which, they won’t.’

Ben nodded. ‘You’re right, they won’t. Because as much as I’m sure I could fill the space or figure out some alternative arrangement, I have neither the time nor the inclination. So, I guess that means I agree to your ridiculous rule.’

‘Good.’ Poppy held out her hand for Ben to shake and caught the edge of her wine glass, knocking it over, which saw it domino into his wine glass, sending a stream of wine over the table and onto the floor.

Please don’t be a sign. Ben shook his head in despair. Please don’t let it mean that ‘Sparkle & Steep’ is destined to become ‘Debacle & Weep’.

Chapter 4

Poppy clapped her hands, the sound bouncing off the bare walls. ‘Righto, you lot. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives. A grand day no less. A day that will go down in history as being the start of two of the most fabulous businesses London has ever seen.’ Poppy paused, and waited for a cheer of encouragement, or at the very least a grunt to show that she’d been heard. None came.

She’d successfully managed as a nanny to six-year-old triplets, you’d think she could hold the attention of two eighteen-year-olds, but no. Sophie was inspecting her nails. Joe had his eyes on that damn phone of his. And her business partner was clomp-clomp-clomping back and forth in the kitchen, muttering into his phone. Pausing every now and then to flick her the thumbs up. Why? She had no idea. But if it meant things were moving forward at a rapid pace she was happy for him to leave the teen wrangling to her.

‘Joe? Are you listening to anything that’s coming out of my mouth?’

No answer came. Right, then. Drastic measures were called for.

Stomping over to where he stood, Poppy plucked the phone out from his palm and marched it to the kitchen. Turning on the tap she threatened to douse it in water. ‘Don’t think I won’t,’ she warned. ‘We’re not paying you to spend hours looking at mindless gaming videos, or… half-naked women… or whatever it is that has so captured your imagination.’

‘Unicorns.’ Joe folded his arms across his chest and popped his hip out. ‘I was looking up unicorn suppliers with quick delivery times. I get the feeling you want things up and running soon as possible.’

Poppy glanced at the screen to see a wall of unicorn giftware. ‘Oh, I see. And how long do these sites you’ve found take?’ Poppy returned the phone to Joe. ‘And what’s the pricing like?’

Sophie shook her head. A disgusted puff of air escaping her lips. ‘Are you telling us you haven’t even sorted that out yet? Have you thought about storage? And getting things through customs?’

‘I’m not daft, you know. Of course I’ve got that worked out.’ Kind of. Poppy had known she’d have to figure that stuff out, she just hadn’t expected for things to race ahead at breakneck speed – but there was no way she was letting Sophie know that. If they got a hint she was flying by the seat of her pants, they’d try and take advantage. ‘But, it’s good to have fresh stock, different stock, and I really appreciate that you’ve taken an interest in my business, Joe. Nice work.’ She slapped Joe on the back, then motioned to Ben to hang up the phone as soon as he could. ‘Speaking of space. We need to decide who gets what.’

With a quick goodbye Ben shoved his phone in the back pocket of his navy pants and leaned against the door. ‘I was hoping…’

‘To have the side with the bricks? I agree. It will suit your vision.’ Poppy fisted her hands and placed them on her hips. ‘I’m happy with the other side. It’s lighter, brighter. And I was thinking I’d get some holographic tinsel and drape it down the windows on my side of the shop.’

‘Cooooooool,’ breathed Joe.

‘Oh, God. No.’ Sophie gagged.

‘I’m with Sophie.’ Ben shook his head so quickly Poppy wondered if he would sprain his neck.

‘What’s wrong with that? It’s my side of the shop, isn’t it? I can do what I want, can’t I?’ Poppy tucked her tongue into her cheek.

‘Poppy. No. I forbid it.’ Ben placed his hands on his hips, mirroring hers, his face growing pink. Then red. Then almost purple. ‘It will look beyond tacky. What will people think of the shop? Of my shop?’

‘They’ll think it’s a fun place to visit. That our shop is a warm, welcoming, engaging, and just a little bit magical, place to spend time in.’ Poppy reached for her braid and stroked it.

‘She’s having you on,’ Sophie said flatly. ‘Honestly, Ben, can’t you see that? You’d think you’d know when your girlfriend was having you on.’

Ben’s eyes went from Poppy’s straight face, to her hand on her braid. ‘Damn it, you’re right. Her hand is on her braid. That’s what she does when she’s telling a white lie. And she’s not my girlfriend.’

‘Really?’ Sophie’s bottom lip slackened with surprise. ‘I totally thought you were. You’re kind of cute together. Like an old married couple.’

The colour in Ben’s face had beaten a retreat from its purple shade, but still held a blush. ‘Well, we’re not. We’ve just known each other forever. Right, Poppy?’

‘Right.’ Poppy dragged her hand away from her braid. ‘Just friends. That’s all. And since you outed my joke, Sophie, you can work for Ben. I get the feeling you two will get along well. Joe, are you cool to work for me?’

‘Cool.’ Joe shoved his hands in his jean pockets with a nod. ‘Do I get a staff discount?’

‘Sure do. More than that, you can have whatever takes your fancy at cost.’

‘Awesome.’ Joe nodded his approval, then picked up the bucket of cleaning supplies Poppy had brought with her. ‘In that case, I’ll get onto it.’

Poppy flashed him a thumbs up, then turned to Ben. ‘That means Sophie’s yours.’

‘Good.’ Sophie nodded her approval. ‘I like tea. I can bake a bit. And I’m all class.’

‘And all ego,’ Joe muttered as he walked past them towards the kitchen.

‘Whatever.’ Sophie elbowed her brother.

‘Well, now that’s sorted…’ Ben took in the space that was to be his. ‘I’m going to stain that counter a dark brown and find shelving that can go up against the brick wall and stain it the same colour. How are you with a paint brush, Sophie?’

Sophie held her hands up, showing off her intricately designed nail polish. ‘Steadiest hands you’ve ever met.’

‘Excellent.’ Ben held his hand up for a high-five, which Sophie ignored with a shrivel of her nose.

‘Here, I’ve got you.’ Poppy’s palm met Ben’s. She tried not to show her surprise as something zippy and zappy ran its way up her arm and danced its way to her heart. Must’ve slapped his hand too hard. She shook her head and ignored the tingles warming her skin. ‘We’ve got this, Ben. And I promise no holographic tinsel in the windows, but fair warning, there will be holographic other things, glitter and gold, not to mention fluff and fur.’

‘What you’re saying is that if it’ll make a five-year-old girl squeal in delight, you’ll be buying it.’ Sophie lifted her lip in a sneer that matched Ben’s perfectly.

Poppy bit back a laugh. Those two were peas in a pod. Sophie was like Ben had been at that age. Serious. Sure of himself. Not one to suffer fools.

Then again, Ben had suffered Poppy their whole childhood. Putting up with her whimsical ideas and devil-may-care attitude.

The part of her that expected rejection from those closest to her – that had learnt to expect it thanks to the way she was shunned by her mother – had led Poppy to wonder why Ben had stuck with her through thick and thin… then the moment the answer had revealed itself, she’d upped and left London. Left Ben.

One heart-stopping moment with Ben. One heart-wrenching argument with her mother. And her life had changed course…

Poppy put on her imaginary blinkers. There was no point thinking about that night. The past was the past. This shop was her future.

She just had to hope that history didn’t repeat itself.

***

Ben heaved the last of the flatpack shelving into the shop, shut the door, then leaned against it, resting his tired muscles. ‘All those hours spent working out, you’d think unloading shelving would be a breeze. I might even be able to skip my morning workout.’

‘Don’t you dare.’ Poppy glanced up from the floor, where she’d been spreading out the takeaways she’d ordered for dinner. ‘If you mess with those muscles you’ll lose your female customers. Maybe even some of the gentlemen customers too.’

‘I don’t have any customers.’ Ben sank down and began piling rice onto a paper plate, topping it with chicken tikka masala.

‘Not yet. But you will. I can feel it in my bones. By the way, thanks for sourcing the shelving. It’s perfect. The white shelves will look utterly gorgeous on my side, and that wooden shelving will be lush once it’s stained. I found a company who’ll put it all together for us, so we can concentrate on getting the stock sorted.’

‘You mean you’re not going to force Joe and Sophie to put it together?’ Ben forked a spoonful of curry into his mouth and closed his eyes in appreciation. Rich, aromatic… and, most importantly, filling. They hadn’t stopped all day. Cleaning, sourcing products, nailing down the days and times that Joe and Sophie would be working, not to mention what their duties would be. It was tiring work. And there was still so much to do.

Poppy piled her plate high with prawn biryani. ‘There’s no way I’m letting them loose on the shelving. I want it to stand the test of time. And I don’t want to be forking out extra because they’ve not read the instructions properly and screwed it all together the wrong way round and not realised it until it’s too late. Those shelves aren’t the rescrewable type.’

Ben set his plate and fork down and took in the woman before him. The Poppy who’d left would’ve done exactly what she didn’t want Joe and Sophie to do. This Poppy though? She’d been full steam ahead all day, but there was a structure to her ways. And apart from when she’d suggested he make candy-floss cupcakes with little unicorn icing creatures sprinkled on top for any kids who came into the tea shop, he’d been on board with all her suggestions. Any lingering worries he had about opening his shop side-by-side with hers were beginning to evaporate.

Poppy crossed her legs and let out a sigh, her shoulders inching down. ‘God, it’s good to relax, finally. It’s been go-go-go all day. Heck, it’s been go-go-go since I decided to come home. We haven’t even had a proper catch up. We need to remedy that. So, Ben, tell me about your life. Is there anyone special who’s currently resenting you for spending all your spare hours with me at the shop? Has a pearl-clutcher finally scooped you up? Are you keeping her from me in case the Poppy-curse sees another potential wife bite the dust?’

‘You give yourself too much credit.’ Ben tore off a piece of naan and ran it through the gravy. ‘And what on earth is a pearl-clutcher?’

‘Really? You don’t know? A pearl-clutcher is your ideal woman. A woman who likes things to be done the correct way. Who can’t bare the idea of messing with tradition, of breaking the rules.’ Poppy’s hand flew to her throat. Her eyes widened in horror. ‘You’d never believe what I saw the other day. It was shocking, I tell you, shocking. Meredith from down the road put her milk bottle in the rubbish bin. Not the recycling bin. Can you believe it? Terrible. Has she no heart?’

‘Who’s Meredith?’ Ben reached for the bottle of red wine Poppy had placed on the floor along with two plastic cups and poured them each a half-glass. Enough to be enjoyed, but not enough to render them useless at work the next day. ‘And why do you care so much about what she does with rubbish?’

‘Meredith is your ideal woman. A bona fide pearl-clutcher. She is prim. She is proper. She is easily outraged. She would always recycle anything that could be recycled, and anyone who doesn’t is an ingrate, in Meredith’s opinion.’

‘Well, it’s nice that she cares so much.’ Ben took a sip, then set the glass down. ‘Do you recycle all that can be recycled, Poppy?’

‘Of course I do.’ Poppy shovelled a forkful of food into her mouth.

‘And would you be outraged if you saw someone flout your recycling rules?’ Ben covered his mouth with his hand so Poppy wouldn’t see the amusement that was threatening to make its way onto his lips.

Poppy nodded. Then shook her head. Then hastily swallowed. ‘Oh no you don’t, Ben. I will not have you insinuating that I’m a pearl-clutcher. No way. Not going to happen. The difference between me and a pearl-clutcher is that I wouldn’t get all vocal about seeing someone do something I consider outrageous.’

‘Really? I’d have thought you’d march up to them and give them a lecture about saving the environment one recyclable at a time. Kind of like you did to my mum when you were hell-bent on joining Greenpeace and doing everything you could to ensure the… how did you put it?’

Poppy shut her eyes and groaned. ‘“The health and safety of the earth and all its residents”. Are you ever going to let me forget that? And you can drop your hand, I know you’re laughing at me.’

Ben did as he was told, holding back a snort-laugh when Poppy flicked him the two-fingered salute. ‘Well you went through our rubbish and separated everything out and made Mum solemnly swear that she’d never let a recyclable into the bin again. It was the funniest thing. I think she fell a bit in love with you that day.’ That made two of us. Ben pushed the thought away. There was no point in entertaining feelings from the past. They’d gotten him nowhere then, they weren’t going to get him anywhere now. He had to get his brain off this thought track, and the best way to do that was to change the subject. ‘Interesting bracelet, Poppy. Where’d you get it?’

‘This old thing?’ Poppy held up a bronze chain filled with charms.

Amongst the collection, Ben spotted a koala, a rugby ball, a tiny pizza slice, a water buffalo. A random assortment, yet somehow on Poppy it worked.

‘It’s just how I keep track of where I’ve been. A charm for every town or country I’ve visited. And don’t try and distract me from our conversation, Ben. Let’s get back to you.’ Her bracelet jangled as she pointed in his direction. ‘Now, tell me, why isn’t there a Meredith in your life? To be honest I was surprised you and Milly didn’t get back together after I left. She was a Meredith all the way.’

‘Milly was a bit of a Meredith. Although she sounds like she’s loosened up.’ Ben folded the gravy through the rice.

‘“Sounds”? Are you two still in contact?’ Poppy picked up a napkin and wiped at a splodge of red gravy that had nestled in the groove of her mouth. ‘All gone?’

‘Not quite.’ Ben took the napkin and patted away another splodge that had landed on her chin, then passed the napkin back to Poppy. ‘You still eat like a starving animal.’

‘Habit of a lifetime.’ Poppy’s lips turned down in what looked like a frown, but in a blink of an eye it was gone, a smile in its place. ‘Anyway, back to Milly. I didn’t know you two still talked.’

‘It’s a recent thing. She called. Said she was going to be in the area. We’ve texted each other a bit.’ Ben gave a non-committal shrug. ‘Anyway, maybe I’m just not in the market for a pearl-clutching Meredith type of woman. Maybe I’d prefer a woman with a bit of fire in her belly. Someone fun, funny, not afraid to take a chance. Someone with a good heart. I don’t suppose you know anyone who fits that description?’

Poppy leaned forward, a gleam in her eyes. ‘Not off the top of my head, but maybe I could help you find her. We could load up some dating apps onto your phone. Go through the prospects together. It’d be great fun!’ Poppy looked around the shop. ‘Where’s your phone? Let’s put together a profile and get you out there.’ She leaned over to snatch up the phone lying at his side, groaning as Ben whipped it up before she could get her hands on it.

‘Let’s not, Poppy.’ Ben tucked the phone in his back pocket, well out of reach of Poppy’s grabby hands. ‘I know you’ll think me boring. Too traditional. But I like the idea of meeting a girl the old-fashioned way. Like, at a bar, or at the shops, or when I’m jogging in the park.’