The Little Shop of Hopes and Dreams. Fiona Harper

she said, a tinge of desperation in her cut-glass tone. ‘The best one you’ve ever done!’

      Peggy mouthed across at Nicole, ‘You know who that is?’

      Nicole nodded, ever so slightly, ever so discreetly. Either this was famous-for-being-famous socialite Saffron Wolden-Barnes or her double had just crashed her way into their office.

      ‘Flipping heck,’ Peggy muttered under her breath and shooting a look heavenwards. ‘It actually worked.’

      ‘God does indeed move in mysterious ways,’ Nicole mumbled back. In the ten and a half months since Hopes & Dreams had been in business, she’d not once had a woman walk through her door.

      Peggy shrugged and added, ‘You prayed for her. You’d better take her.’

      Nicole rose and walked towards their new client and held out a hand. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m Nicole Harrison, founder of Hopes & Dreams Proposal Planning Agency. If it’s something unique you want, you’ve come to the right place.’

      The blonde shook her hand back. ‘Saffron,’ she said, exhaling, and nodded towards the door, as Peggy scurried over to close it. ‘Sorry about that. People expect me to make an entrance when I’m out doing public appearances and what have you. Sometimes I just forget to switch it all off.’

      ‘Why don’t we sit down and talk through some ideas,’ Nicole said smoothly. She led Saffron down the narrow corridor and opened the door to the proposal-planning room.

      Once inside she breathed a sigh of relief. Here, at least, she’d been allowed free hand to decorate, and it was an oasis of cream and off-white, clean lines and stripped wood. Black-and-white photos graced the walls and there was just enough room for a low glass coffee table and two oatmeal-coloured armchairs.

      As they settled themselves down, Nicole took a closer look at their client. She’d seen pictures of her in Celebrity Life, of course, but had never laid eyes on her in person. That charisma that oozed from the glossy pages of the magazine was not exaggerated. There was something about her that made you want to look at her. Maybe it was the long, tumbling blonde waves. Maybe it was the designer jeans and boots, the way she’d slung her outfit together with a careless sophistication that Nicole had taken years to get down pat. Whatever that elusive X factor was, Saffron Wolden-Barnes had it in spades. It was as if someone had taken all the best bits of all ‘those girls’ Nicole had battled with all her life and rolled them into one perfect package.

      A package that they sorely needed, if Nicole’s diminishing bank account was anything to go by. She couldn’t let that faze her, though. Pretending her heart wasn’t pounding a little harder, that this was any other, non-famous, non-make-or-break client, Nicole picked up a large notebook from the coffee table, which was adorned with folders full of different proposal ideas. She removed the lid of her fountain pen, poised it ready to write, then looked up.

      What she saw took her by surprise. Saffron was looking back at her, leaning forward with her hands clasped. Her knees were pressed together, allowing her to rest her elbows on them, but her feet jutted out at odd angles, giving her long legs the appearance of those of a just-born foal who wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. She leaned forward, stared Nicole straight in the eye and sighed. Her eyebrows pulled upwards in the centre, creating a little arch-shaped wrinkle in the skin above her nose.

      ‘You think I’m bonkers, don’t you? Go on, say it. All my friends do. They think I should wait for him to pop the question.’

      Nicole blinked. She’d expected Saffron to be the queen of ‘those girls’, full of confidence and easy words, but there was something about her…She reminded Nicole of the girl she’d been at school. On one hand, having everything going for her, but on the other, awkward, vulnerable, maybe a little too desperate to please. She put her pen down, stopped smiling her ‘client’ smile at the other woman and leaned forward. ‘There’s nothing bonkers—I mean, crazy—about wanting to ask the person you love to marry you.’

      The rest of Saffron’s eyebrows lifted and her mouth opened a little. Then she smiled at Nicole. A big, glowing smile that lit up her face and made her blue eyes sparkle. Nicole couldn’t help smiling back. There was something very open and refreshing about Saffron Wolden-Barnes.

      ‘Why don’t you tell me about the man in your life,’ she asked gently. ‘We’re going to need to find out a little about him before we start planning in earnest.’

      Saffron didn’t need to be asked twice. She launched instantly into a full description of the paragon she dearly wanted to marry. He was sexy. He was clever. He was cool and funny. He had the best smile in the world and made her feel safe and grounded in her crazy life.

      ‘He’s a bit publicity shy, though,’ she added, thoughtfully. ‘Doesn’t really like the limelight. So we’ve been dating not exactly in secret, but quietly.’

      ‘And you think he’s ready to make this step too?’ Nicole asked. Nobody—not her, not the client—wanted a ‘no’ after all the expense and planning, so it wasn’t a bad idea to make sure the proposer had really thought about it before they put the wheels in motion.

      Saffron nodded vigorously. ‘I’m sure he does. At least…’ She frowned again. ‘No…I’m sure. I think so.’ She gave Nicole another blast of her famous smile. ‘There are no guarantees when you’re doing something like this, right?’

      ‘Right,’ Nicole said, heartily relieved Saffron wasn’t one of those clients she had to remind about this point. She was good, but she couldn’t achieve the impossible.

      ‘I mean…part of the point of the exercise is finding out the answer to that question, isn’t it? And I really want to know the answer. Now.’ Her shoulders drooped a little. ‘I just haven’t got time to wait for the next leap year.’

      ‘Well, what kind of proposal were you looking for?’ Nicole asked. ‘We can arrange just about anything you want. Intimate meetings in the midst of the city or an idyllic woodland trail with a Michelin-starred picnic at the end. Flash mobs or a romantic assignation at a castle or in a luxury penthouse. We can do big and dramatic or cosy and intimate. Obviously, we can’t do magic…’ she paused to smile softly, as she always did when she delivered the next bit ‘…but we’ll do our best to make your hopes and dreams come true.’

      Cheesy line, she knew. But the clients loved it.

      Saffron exhaled and her shoulders relaxed. ‘Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.’

      Nicole smiled again. She hadn’t expected to like Saffron, but she did. There was a lack of guile about her that was surprisingly disarming. Suddenly she understood why it was this girl and not the hundreds of other bright young things like her that the tabloids followed round.

      ‘I don’t even know where to start…’ Saffron said mournfully, flicking through one of the folders in front of her. ‘Just that I want it to be monumental, spectacular. And that I want to do it the weekend before Christmas, so it’s all done and dusted by the time I get together with my father, step-mother and step-sister on Christmas Eve.’

      ‘Well, I’ve got a questionnaire I can run through with you that will throw up some ideas, but we don’t have to decide anything right now,’ Nicole said.

      ‘I usually do a little homework on the fiancé-to-be when someone comes to me to plan a proposal. I also try to engineer a face-to-face meeting so that we can get a feel for their personality and tastes.’ After Mr Arrogant she wasn’t taking any chances.

      It had turned out to be a genius idea. While a lot of the men who came to her knew their partners very well, she’d discovered that there were also things many women hadn’t communicated to their significant other, secret wishes that the man of their dreams should just instinctively know without being told. After her mock interview, Nicole was well placed to weave them into her proposal ideas and let the proposer take the credit.

      Saffron looked a little panicked. ‘You won’t tip him off, will you?’

      Nicole