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7
Holly checked her reflection as she walked past the bookies.Not looking bad.Not that it mattered: this wasn’t an actual date. She’d been a bit miffed when Mum and Dad had thrown her into the deep end with the Lovefest event, but when Annie had asked if she’d mind going on a few dates she’d jumped at the chance. It was great to be helping Mum and Dad do their bit, plus the publicity for the shop would do wonders. It was difficult not to get carried away with thoughts of winning the money. Although she knew the chances were slim, dreams of starting her own business came to mind. It would be enough to get some prints made, at least.
Fantasies were put on hold as she reached the restaurant. Nerves made her stomach lurch. She hadn’t expected that. She repositioned her summer dress again and adjusted her faux leather jacket. Her make-up was hopefully still on point. There was barely a breeze today, so her face and hair should be as good as when she left the house. Jeez, why was she suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach?
Her legs acted on their own again, taking her up the restaurant’s steps. Today’s date had been sponsored by a local Italian pizzeria. It had long been a Shawlands staple, and Holly had fond memories of coming here with Mum and Dad. She had the feeling it would still look the same inside: olive-coloured leather, wood so dark it looked black, and signed photos of visiting celebs on the walls. It was good to be somewhere familiar; it helped quell her protesting stomach.
Annie was lingering at the maître d’s station, partly obscured by a large palm, attention fixed on her phone. Her head snapped up when Holly approached.
‘Holly, you’re here!’ she beamed. ‘Your date’s already inside. I thought I’d take the chance to update our socials while we waited.’
‘I’m not late, am I?’
‘No, no. Totally on time.’ Annie walked into the restaurant, past the cake fridge and down the three steps to the lower level, leading Holly to the table. ‘So, we’ll do a few quick photos then leave you to it.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘Here we are.’
Annie stepped aside to reveal Jen, the arsey woman from next door. Holly’s stomach dropped like a tonne of bricks.
‘Jen. Lovely to see you again,’ Holly dead-panned, taking a seat opposite the blonde.
Judging by the way Jen’s face had fallen, she felt the same. ‘And you too. I don’t think I got your name?’
‘Holly. Holly Taylor.’
‘Like Taylor’s Deli. Gotcha.’
Holly’s eyes were locked so fiercely with Jen’s that she almost flinched when a hand was thrust in front of her face. It belonged to a guy wearing a monstera-patterned shirt and bright green glasses. ‘Isaac, hi. Pleasure to meet you.’
Holly gave it a firm shake. ‘Holly; hi. You’ll be taking the pictures, I presume?’
‘Camera gave it away, huh?’ he replied with a laugh, cradling the massive DSLR in both hands.
Jen mumbled something under her breath.
‘What was that?’ Holly asked, hackles raised.
‘Nothing, sorry.’
Holly narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.
‘Right, ladies. A few smiley pics and then we’ll be off,’ Annie said, clapping her hands together.
‘Maybe raise your glasses like you’re cheers-ing?’ Isaac suggested.
It was only then Holly clocked the already filled glass. ‘Ordering for me, now?’
‘I asked for a bottle and they just assumed it was for both of us,’ Jen shot back through gritted teeth.
‘Smile, girls.’ Annie ushered them on.
Holly laid on her best grin as they clinked glasses.
‘Brilliant, brilliant,’ Isaac said, taking shots from all angles.
Holly spied Jen from the corner of her vision, her smile never wavering. Of all the people. Should she just leave? No, that would be rude. D’Angelo’s had been nice enough to gift the meal, and Shawlands was small; if one of them stormed out they’d lose a shot at the prize before the contest had even begun. Not to mention the embarrassment for Mum and Dad if word got out. She’d have to stick it out. For tonight, at least.
