He caught me looking and smiled, unfolding his arms and putting them down by his sides so he could reach out below the bench and brush his fingers against mine. A smile crept onto my face and I hoped to hell I wasn’t blushing, because I still hadn’t told Alfie about us and now didn’t feel like the right time. Especially because Milo would probably say he already knew, and I didn’t want to upset Alfie by making it look like I was playing favourites with our friendship. Even if it wasn’t deliberate.
Instead, I kept my eyes on Alfie, and hooked my little finger around Owen’s, squeezing it tightly. We still hadn’t put a label on whatever this was. I was almost reluctant to in case it changed something.
Summer was drawing to a close, and the last thing I wanted to think about was how much time we had left together. I simply wanted to enjoy it day by day and ignore the ticking clock hanging over our heads.
I hadn’t asked Owen about his plans for after his contract was up, mostly because I couldn’t bring myself to. Every time I thought about it my chest tightened painfully as my anxiety spiked, the idea of him moving on and forgetting about me almost making me physically sick.
So I was simply going to ignore it until the last possible moment.
After all, I couldn’t be anxious about something that wasn’t happening.
“What do you think, Alfie? Ellie?” I asked, hoping to distract myself from my wandering thoughts about Owen. I didn’t let go of his little finger though. “Be honest. I can handle it.”
“Can you?” Owen asked with a fond chuckle. “Because I don’t know if I can. If they don’t like it, I might have to go and become a hermit in a cave somewhere with Milo’s seagull army for company.”
“We’re not having anyone turning into the Wicked Witch of North Yorkshire,” I said. “Especially not if you can’t sing ‘Defying Gravity’.”
“That’s me out then. Unless you’re okay with it being in an off-key baritone?”
“No, I want full Cynthia Erivo or Idina Menzel.”
“Then no.”
I grinned and looked encouragingly at Ellie, who was watching us with amusement. She’d not long received her A-level results and had gotten three As to secure her place at Leeds to study law, because she was bloody awesome. We’d gotten her a card and some flowers as a congratulations, along with a bottle of vodka—because Milo had insisted that was what eighteen-year-olds really wanted—and a nice box of chocolates. All three seemed to have been well received, and we’d promised her that her job would be open for her again next summer if she wanted it.
“I really like it,” Ellie said as she took another spoonful. “I think it’s really well balanced. Coffee can be quite a strong, overpowering flavour sometimes, but it’s not here. And you can taste the alcohol, but it’s not too much, y’know? It’s there but it’s not everything. And the chocolate on top is the perfect touch!”
“Thank you! That’s great. And that’s actually helpful feedback,” I said, shooting Milo a pointed look which he ignored in favour of scraping out the bottom of the container.
“I agree,” Alfie said. “You know I’m not the biggest coffee drinker, but this is very good. I might not have it every time, but I think you’ve created something great here. People are going to love it.”
“You think so?”
“Of course.” He smiled warmly as he put his spoon down. We’d already done a lot of the calculations about cost, and Alfie was happy with everything we were using which was a big relief. He’d never want us to cut corners, or use lower-quality ingredients, but if it was expensive to produce we’d either have to make less of it or put our overall prices up.
“When do you want to start putting it on the counter?” he added. “Next weekend?”
“That’d work. Then we have plenty of time to make enough,” I said.
“Plus, I can tease it online,” Milo said, having finally come up for air, a few drops of ice cream still clinging to the underside of his moustache. “Do some stuff on Instagram and TikTok to let people know something new is coming. Then do a reveal on Thursday, put it on sale Friday, sell out by Sunday.”
“Sounds good,” I said with a nod. Milo had gotten really into making content for our social media in the last few weeks, and it seemed to be working. We’d had a couple of people mention it anyway. I had no idea how he did it, because I was ridiculouslydisconnected from the online world for someone my age, but if Milo was happy, I was happy.
I did draw the line at doing outrageous dances though.
“Does this sell out by Sunday plan involve you eating half the stock?” Owen asked with raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“No! I’m a professional. But you may not get back anything you give me to make promo with,” he said, stroking his moustache deviously. “You probably wouldn’t want it anyway, not after it’s been out of the freezer for so long. It’d compromise the taste and consistency.”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” added Ellie. “And we want to make sure people get the full experience.”
“Yes, okay. You can have the rest of that container to make promo with,” I said with a chuckle, gesturing at the one in front of Ellie.
Milo frowned and hummed. “Could do with a bit more if you’ve got it. That might not be enough.”
“Tough, that’s what you’re getting.”
“Spoilsport.”
