Summer Of Love. Sophie Pembroke
here, sell my jewellery, and still owe the bank my soul.’
‘Still, quite the set-up you’ve got here.’ Alex turned slowly around, making a big show of taking in the room, with its glass display cabinets along one wall, and the workbench at the back. People liked to see how her jewellery was made, Lily had learnt early on. She couldn’t do everything out on show in the shop – anything remotely dangerous or involving heat she kept for the studio behind the main shop. But during trading hours, she liked to work on smaller, simpler and cheaper pieces out front. It still amazed her how many times someone had watched her make a pair of earrings, then bought them on the spot.
‘I like it,’ she said, shrugging. For some reason, she didn’t want Alex to know how much the place meant to her. Hadn’t ever wanted anyone to know, really. If they knew she really cared, they’d just be watching, waiting for her to screw it up. Same as always.
‘Really, Lily. This place is something else.’ She looked up into his eyes as he spoke and, to her surprise, saw real meaning there. Biting her lip, she smiled up at him, and he grinned back. Then, in a burst of movement, he was off investigating her window display. ‘I mean, look at these!’ Grabbing a champagne flute full of rings from the display, he brought it over to her workbench and tipped them out onto the surface she’d just cleared. ‘They’re all so sparkly. Are they white gold?’
Lily looked down at months of work, learning to shape, then stamp or engrave the perfect ring, then exploring the best ways to add stones and gems. Rings were still a fairly recent addition to her collection, but she was building up a bit of a local demand for individually designed rings. If someone intended to wear a piece of metal around their finger forever and ever, it made sense that they wanted something personal, something they’d chosen. Edward obviously hadn’t understood that.
In the pile of silver on the desk, Lily could see the progression of her abilities, could see them getting better. Not many of those were of saleable quality – they were more for practice than anything else – but that’s why they were piled up inside a champagne flute for display purposes. No one looked closely, and collectively they had quite an effect.
‘Sterling, most of them. One or two brass and copper, as you can see.’ Lily started packing them back inside their glass, and the sound of them clinking against the glass filled the studio. ‘The white gold and platinum ones are over there.’ She motioned towards the locked display cabinet on the other side of the studio. She’d made sure she was really good before she’d started in on the more precious metals.
Alex wandered across to look, leaving her to pack up the display rings again. ‘These are really beautiful,’ he said, his fingers reaching up to touch the glass. ‘You made Cora’s ring, right?’
‘Of course. She’s my best friend. Like I’d let anyone else do it.’
‘You let someone else make yours,’ he pointed out, turning back to face her. The quirk of a smile told her he was joking, but the words still barbed her heart.
‘Yeah, well. That’s different.’ Tipping the last ring into the glass, she placed it back into the window display. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? Ring shopping for the fiancée you haven’t found yet?’
‘Actually,’ Alex said, sounding hesitant for the first time Lily could remember. ‘I had something I wanted to talk to you about. Fancy a spot of lunch while we talk?’
A lunch date with Alex Harper. How her teenage heart would have pitter-pattered. Lily looked around the empty shop; she’d had a decent number of customers that morning, but Monday wasn’t exactly her busiest day. ‘As long as we eat at the Mill, so I can keep an eye on anyone wanting to look in the shop.’
‘Whatever you want,’ Alex agreed, holding the door open for her. The warmth in his voice promised considerably more than lunch, but she suspected that would be the same whoever he was talking to. The man was walking charm and sex, after all.
Lily grabbed her bag and her keys, reminding herself that she was a grown up, engaged woman, and she didn’t want that sort of thing from Alex any more.
Probably.
It was ridiculous that he should feel nervous about this. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to find the right words, or the way to start the conversation. Not that Lily seemed to notice his discomfort; she was too busy glancing back at her shop every few moments from their table outside the main Mill building, in case anyone wanted to buy anything. Alex gazed at the menu, not taking in any of the words. He needed her full attention, and the only way he knew to get it was to talk about her stupid fiancé.
‘Does Edward like you working here?’ he asked, and Lily spun back round to face him, as predicted.
‘Is that what you brought me here to ask?’ The sharpness in her tone felt familiar, somehow.
‘No.’ But suddenly he wanted to know the answer. What was her life like with this man? Alex might not have met him, but he knew already he was wrong for Lily. She needed someone like her, someone sharp and bright and honest. Someone who would let her be herself.
Lily’s gaze dropped down to the menu, held tightly in white-knuckled hands. ‘He’s been very supportive,’ she said, but the words were dull, empty.
‘Supportive how?’
‘He says…’ She sucked in a breath, as if steeling herself for something unpleasant. ‘He likes that I’ve found a way to make my hobby pay for itself.’
‘He… Hang on. What? This is your career, right?’
She gave a sad little laugh and lowered her head so her hair fell into her eyes. ‘He’s right. I mean, I don’t earn anywhere near as much as him, but then, I’m only just getting started…’
A hot rage started in Alex’s belly, rising up through his chest. Who the hell was this man to try to keep Lily Thomas from being every golden thing she’d always been meant to be? To patronize her and make her feel less, when Alex knew straight off she was worth a dozen Edwards?
‘And you call that being supportive?’ Alex asked, trying to keep his voice even.
‘I know, I know,’ Lily said, looking up with a quick smile. ‘But he doesn’t mean it that way.’
‘I don’t really see what other way there is to mean it,’ Alex said, the words coming out clipped.
‘He just… It’s more art than work to him.’ She shrugged. ‘He understands the business side of it, and he helps with the books and that sort of thing. But he doesn’t really understand that fiddling with bits of metal and stone can be a real job.’
‘Of course it is,’ Alex said immediately. It was as real as photography, anyway. He hid a wince. Wasn’t he the same? Not telling anyone about his dream in case they thought it was stupid? In case they thought a numbers man couldn’t have a creative side? In case they all told him he was an idiot for wanting to try?
Well, at least he had one person, right here, he could trust to be on his side. So now he just had to tell her. It had to be better than talking about her idiot fiancé, anyway.
‘In fact, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.’
Lily’s brow crinkled up. ‘My shop?’
‘To start with, yeah. How did you get set up here?’
Leaning back in his chair, Alex listened as Lily embarked on a lengthy story, with several subplots, about how she came to be ensconced at the Mill. She paused only briefly to order the Welsh rarebit when a waitress interrupted them. Alex followed suit, more interested in Lily than the menu.
He’d been wondering since yesterday where the Lily he remembered had gone, but listening to her talk about the renovations the Mill had undergone, the committee structure, how they decided who to let in to the collective…