The Little Shop of Hopes and Dreams. Fiona Harper

heroine waiting for her prince to come.

      Nicole hadn’t been convinced about the design scheme when she and Peggy had discussed ideas, wanting something more classy and elegant, but Peggy was paying half the rent, so she’d had to compromise. They needed something fun, something different, Peggy had pointed out. Something that told Nicole’s potential clients she could deliver the impossible, not just the same old, same old. While the bright fuchsia paint on the one wall that hadn’t been stripped back to bare brick and the bejewelled chandelier that hung from the ceiling made Nicole wince a little every time she arrived for work in the morning, she had to agree that their little shop of Hopes & Dreams fulfilled that brief.

      Behind the front studio was a small kitchenette and a toilet and they’d turned the small stockroom at the back into a cosy meeting space for Nicole to chat to her clients.

      Peggy swept into the office on Monday morning and hung her coat on the old-fashioned hatstand in the corner with more force than was strictly necessary. ‘I don’t believe it! The Witches have gone and gazumped us again! You know the breakfast TV presenter Lottie Carlton? Well, her producer boyfriend proposed to her live on-air just before the credits rolled, and I’m sure that when a camera swung round I saw Celeste and Minty there in the background!’ She collapsed into her chair and sighed dramatically. ‘We’ll never hear the end of it.’

      Nicole had got there early to work on ideas for a client she was meeting later that day and had just come back from the kitchenette, where she’d made herself a cup of coffee. When she’d first worked here she’d nipped across to the little coffee shop opposite for caffeine, but now she was counting her pennies and had to put up with instant.

      Peggy threw her vintage crocodile-skin handbag down on her desk. ‘I know she only does the local London show, but that’s serious exposure for I Do, I Do, I Do.’

      Nicole used a finger to smooth her hair back out of her face as she pulled her desk chair out and sat down. ‘We’re going to drive ourselves mad if we keep comparing Hopes & Dreams to them. I think we ought to have a Celeste-and-Minty jar in the office.’

      Confusion crumpled Peggy’s features. ‘What?’

      ‘Like a swear jar,’ Nicole explained. ‘Every time we mention them or their agency, we have to put a pound in the pot. It’s about time we stopped focusing our energy on how well they’re doing and concentrate on our own success. We’ve had another two yeses since we saw them at the Hamilton last week.’

      Peggy nodded, grudgingly. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ She tipped her collection of fluffy pens out of a polka-dotted tin that said ‘You don’t have to be a goddess to work here, but it helps’ on the side and plonked it on Nicole’s desk. ‘Here…and I vote we spend the proceeds on cocktails, to drown our sorrows when Detest and Squinty schmooze all the high-profile clients in London into their clutches.’

      Nicole picked the pot up and held it in her direction, raising her eyebrows.

      ‘What?’ Peggy said. ‘I didn’t actually use their proper names…’

      Nicole waggled the pot.

      Peggy flounced over and dropped a coin in the bottom. ‘Fine.’

      ‘It still counts. We need some positive energy around here. I’ve spent my whole life trying to compete with girls like that, and I’ve decided I can’t be bothered with it any more. And you know why? Because we’re good. We’re really good. So the big-ticket clients will come. We’ve worked too hard for them not to. We deserve them, and I believe people sow what they reap. We don’t have to stress about those two—’ She noticed the tin in her hand, broke off and smiled serenely. ‘We don’t have to stress,’ she said again. ‘It’ll all work out.’

      Peggy stopped looking quite so affronted and a naughty twinkle appeared in her eye. ‘You really think so?’

      Nicole ignored the little wobble in her tummy at that thought of her much-loved company, the one she’d invested all her time and energy and even more of her money in, going down the drain. ‘I certainly do,’ she said, faking total and complete calmness. She was ninety per cent there. Fudging the final ten per cent really wasn’t lying.

      And she was also sure she’d conquer this childish urge to push Celeste’s and Minty’s faces into the ground and stand triumphantly over them while they tasted the mud of defeat. She was talking the talk, doing her best to walk the walk. If she persevered, eventually her wayward thoughts would have to get into line with the rest of her. This was the method she’d used in upgrading the rest of her life, and she was sure it would work here too.

      ‘We’ll be okay in the end if we work hard,’ she told her business partner, most seriously. ‘We just mustn’t lose heart.’

      Peggy snorted, but as she flumped into her office chair she looked a little less stressed. ‘You sound almost religious about it.’

      ‘Well, it is in the Bible, that sowing and reaping thing. Why shouldn’t we get rewarded for all our effort, while…other people…get what they deserve?’

      Peggy shook her head. ‘Well, the last bit sounds wonderful to me. I’ve always been a fan of a bit of divine retribution. But are you saying that if we all just pray hard enough, a rich, young—preferably titled—stud is going to crash through that door on his steed and declare, “I want you to plan a proposal for me!”?’

      Nicole sent her an angelic smile. ‘I’m sending up a little prayer right now,’ she replied and returned to her internet search for a glass slipper that one of their clients wanted to use as part of his proposal.

CHAPTER FIVE

      Later that afternoon, as the clouds hung heavy across the city, bringing a premature twilight, and the wind bounced itself off the windows at the front of the Hopes & Dreams office, the door crashed open.

      Nicole looked up to find a tall, long-legged blonde wrapped stylishly in a cape, her tumbling golden waves teased slightly out of place by the wind. ‘Are you the proposal planners?’ she asked, bracing herself dramatically in the doorway.

      Nicole and Peggy shot a look at each other across their desks, looked at their guest and nodded.

      ‘Then I want you to plan the best proposal ever for me,’ 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