Chapter 21 #2
‘I don’t think,’ Oliver said, his eyes locking onto hers, ‘I know. This is the one.’
The personal shopper clapped her hands together, her excitement genuine. ‘It’s absolutely divine on you. Shall we look for the perfect accessories?’
They moved to another section of the boutique, where rows of shoes, handbags and hats awaited. Clemmie’s nerves had completely disappeared, replaced by a bubbling excitement. ‘What do you think of these?’ she asked, holding up a pair of strappy silver heels.
The personal shopper tilted her head, considering. ‘They’re lovely, but I’m thinking…’ She pointed to a pair of elegant ivory ballet flats. ‘From experience, you don’t want to be thinking about your feet in a pair of heels at a royal garden party. These match the dress perfectly.’
Clemmie sat on the nearby sofa and tried them on. They fit like a glove. ‘Definitely these,’ she said, standing and walking up and down the room just like her granny used to make her do whenever she tried on new school shoes.
Next came the handbag. The personal shopper presented a chic clutch embellished with subtle beading that mirrored the embroidery on her dress.
‘This one,’ she said confidently. ‘It’s made for you.’
Finally, the hat. ‘A garden party calls for something fabulous, but a royal garden party calls for something extra fabulous,’ the personal shopper declared, guiding them to an array of fascinators and wide-brimmed hats.
Clemmie tried on a few, but it was Oliver who found the winner, a delicate creation in the same colour as her dress, beautified with a soft spray of feathers and pearls.
‘You look like royalty,’ he said, grinning.
Clemmie laughed. ‘I feel like royalty,’ she replied, sipping the last of the champagne and eating truffles from the silver-plated tray.
She changed back into the dress she’d arrived in and they made their way to the counter to pay for everything. Oliver turned to Clemmie. ‘I told you this would be fun.’
‘Fun doesn’t even begin to cover it,’ Clemmie replied, her eyes shining. ‘I’ve had a blast and feel a little tipsy with all that champagne. Thank you for this morning.’
He took her hand briefly, his touch reassuring. ‘Glad you enjoyed it.’
They watched as the boutique’s staff wrapped each item in a beautiful box, lined with fine tissue paper that Clemmie was convinced was edged with gold. The bags were handed to her, and Oliver reached for his wallet.
‘It’s on me,’ he said firmly.
Clemmie’s eyes widened. ‘Oliver, no. That’s too much. I can’t let you.’
‘Yes, you can.’ His tone softened as he reached for her hand. ‘When you visit me in America, I’ll make sure we go to an event where you can wear it all again. Consider it an investment in our memories.’
Was that an official invitation? He was making his intentions clear. It didn’t matter if he was on the other side of the world, he still wanted to see her. She liked that thought.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking to the price total. It was exorbitant, but the way Oliver looked at her, like she was worth every penny, made her heart flutter. Finally, she nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
They stepped outside, the cool air brushing against their faces as Clemmie clutched the boutique’s elegant bags.
‘I do feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman!’ They had barely taken a few steps when they almost collided with a striking woman in a tailored coat and towering heels.
Her hair was styled in perfect waves, and as she spun round her sharp eyes immediately swept over Clemmie, taking in her bags and her appearance before narrowing slightly.
‘Fiona,’ Oliver said, his tone polite but edged with tension.
‘Oliver,’ she replied, her voice smooth as silk but carrying an unmistakable chill.
Her gaze flicked back to Clemmie, scrutinising her for a moment before shifting back to the boutique behind them.
‘Wow, making bold choices, I see. That Café on the Coast must be doing well despite that bad review of yours.’ Clemmie felt suddenly uncomfortable, unsure why Fiona would bring that up.
There was an undertone in her words that Clemmie couldn’t quite place, but it made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.
Fiona’s attention returned to Oliver, her smile turning coy.
‘I suppose you’ve always had an eye for the unconventional,’ she said lightly, her words dripping with implication.
‘Good to see you, Fiona,’ Oliver said curtly, his tone leaving no room for further conversation. He placed a steadying hand on Clemmie’s back and gently steered her away.
‘Lunch?’ Oliver suggested. ‘We’ve earned it.’
‘Lunch is definitely on me,’ Clemmie replied, glancing back over her shoulder to see Fiona disappear at the end of the road. ‘What did she mean, despite that bad review of mine?’
Oliver shrugged. ‘Probably just because you mentioned it in your winner’s speech. Who knows what goes through Fiona’s mind? Take no notice of her. I know a gorgeous bistro just down here.’
Despite Oliver’s attempt to brush it off, Fiona’s comment lingered in Clemmie’s thoughts.
It felt like Fiona was questioning her worth in a way that left her doubting herself, even though she knew better than to let it get to her.
She didn’t want to give Fiona the satisfaction of ruining her mood, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
‘Sounds just perfect.’