Page 17 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Isabella

Girl Gang WhatsApp group

Wren : My head hurts.

Rosie : My eyeballs hurt.

Isabella : I woke up on the sofa fully clothed ten minutes ago.

Amber : My lips are stained blue.

Isabella : OMIGOD, they are drilling downstairs.

Amber : I found five paper umbrellas on my pillow.

Wren : Come to The Lit Lounge in an hour.

Rosie : We’ll put the coffee on.

The door jangled, making Wren cringe and put her hands to her head, as Isabella stepped inside The Lit Lounge.

Rosie had replaced her usual oversized tortoiseshell glasses with oversized prescription sunglasses and her plaits were spiralled around her head like a bandage.

Amber, still with bright blue lips, slumped in one of the stuffed armchairs with a large cup of coffee in front of her, her eyes shut.

Every wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, and Isabella spied a ladder on one side.

Hand-illustrated signs showed customers to the ‘kids’ corner’; another to ‘killer thrillers’; a third happily announced ‘cliterary fiction’.

The bare floorboards were covered in colourful rugs, coffee tables were made from painted pallets and old travel trunks, and every armchair had a brightly crocheted cushion on it.

‘How do you take your coffee?’ Rosie asked, which would have made Isabella smile if she weren’t so hungover that it hurt to move unnecessarily. Funny that they all knew each other’s favourite cocktails, throwback anthems and dance moves, but not how they took their coffee.

‘Espresso,’ said Isabella.

She let herself collapse back into the armchair next to Amber as Rosie shouted, ‘Watch out for Barney!’ and Wren said, ‘Wait!’ But it was too late and she landed on an old ginger cat, who shot out from under her with a yowl.

Barney strolled away nonchalantly and jumped into one of the other armchairs.

Isabella then noticed the tiny tabby cat in Amber’s lap.

Scanning the room, she spotted at least another four, in all colours and sizes, in various poses of sleep.

There was even one in the window, curled up in the smallest puddle of sun.

‘Sorry, should have warned you,’ Rosie said. ‘We have a lot of cats.’

‘You’re not allergic, are you?’ Wren added.

‘The only thing I’m allergic to is obviously alcohol,’ Isabella said. ‘I feel like death.’

Amber nodded without opening her eyes. Rosie and Wren brought the coffees over and pulled their own armchairs into a circle.

‘Welcome to Honeybridge. You’re a local now you’ve survived a Throwback Thursday.’

Isabella managed a weak smile. ‘I can’t wait to take Gabi when she visits.’

‘You okay in there, Amber?’ Rosie said.

Amber nodded her head, then shook it.

‘Never again.’

‘That’s what you said last time,’ Wren deadpanned.

‘I found Etienne’s number in my phone this morning when I woke up,’ Isabella confessed, showing the women her contacts list. Amber managed to crank open one eyelid to look at the evidence.

‘He’s definitely keen,’ Rosie said.

‘Are you going to message him?’ Wren asked.

Isabella blew out her breath. ‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Two words, remember? Sex ban.’

‘Sex bomb more like,’ Amber’s blue lips said.

Three coffees later, all eyes were open, and hangovers were under control enough for Rosie to start talking about food.

‘I never did find out why you needed a night out?’ Isabella asked Amber.

Amber exhaled slowly.

‘I’m losing my job. As of the end of this month I’ll be unemployed.’

Rosie and Wren shook their heads, obviously already in the know.

‘What do you do?’ She couldn’t believe they hadn’t covered this the night before, although thinking back to the rate that Amber was downing Blue Lagoons, maybe she just didn’t want to talk about it.

‘I do a bit of everything at the rowing club. It suits me so well– and I’m going to be hard pushed to find something that means I can be there when Jayden gets home from after-school club.’

‘They’re making a massive mistake,’ Rosie said.

‘They don’t realise the half of what she does. . .’ Wren said to Isabella.

‘So, what happened?’

‘The club’s been bought by a fancy leisure company. They’re bringing in their own hospitality manager and so I’m not needed any more.’

‘But she doesn’t just do the hospitality side of things,’ Rosie said, sitting up straight for the first time that morning. She raised her hand and started checking things off on her fingers.

‘She runs the rowing meet schedule. . .’ Rosie.

‘She set up River Rats to expand the membership. . .’ Wren.

‘She manages stock for the outdoor café. . .’ Rosie.

‘She also does the staff rotas for the café!’ Wren added.

‘And she manages the membership fees too.’ Rosie snapped her thumb down at the last point. Both looked outraged. Amber blew them a kiss and smiled weakly.

‘Maybe I’ll let you help me write my CV. You make me sound fabulous.’

Isabella thought about Tutto Mio. How all these skills would be essential in the coming months. How things were starting to become overwhelming and she felt anxious when she went to bed at night. How she hadn’t even started to think about staffing the restaurant yet.

She remembered admiring Amber’s way with people the night before. The genuine way she listened. The way people reciprocated her smile.

‘I would have started looking around town today for vacancies, but probably not the best look!’ She pouted blue lips at them and laughed. ‘I’ll start tomorrow.’ She nodded to them all. ‘I’ll find something great.’

Isabella felt Amber’s determination as if it were her own. She admired her positive attitude. She remembered Amber saying last night about how, until she found someone good enough to be daddy material, she was more than enough on her own. It resonated.

‘Have you ever waitressed?’ she asked, as casually as she could.

‘Girl, my parents own a beach restaurant in Jamaica. I grew up waiting tables.’

‘And you know lots of people locally?’ Isabella said.

Amber focused those ocean-coloured eyes on Isabella curiously.

‘I know pretty much everyone,’ she said. ‘And those I don’t know, I just haven’t met yet.’

‘So, you could staff a restaurant so that you didn’t have to be there in the evenings?’ Isabella asked.

‘Yes, I could,’ said Amber, cautiously optimistic now. Wren and Rosie were leaning forward in their seats. From the corner of her eye, Isabella saw Rosie take Wren’s hand and squeeze it.

Isabella made her decision. It wasn’t a hard one.

‘Then I’d like to offer you a job.’

Amber straightened her back and her blue smile lit her face.

‘And I’d like to accept.’

They shook hands solemnly while Rosie and Wren clapped.

‘Sorry to interrupt.’ A teenage girl wearing Doc Martens approached hesitantly and all eyes turned to her.

She shuffled, kicking the heels of her boots against each other.

Her eyeliner was heavy, her eyebrow had a lightning bolt through it and she wore her hair in space buns on the side of her head.

‘Do you need help finding something?’ Rosie said, already moving to stand.

‘Yes please,’ the girl said and turned to Amber, pointing at her big, blue grin. ‘Where did you get your lipstick from? It’s wicked.’

Mia Famiglia WhatsApp group

Isabella : I found my right-hand woman today!

Mamma : Hope you hired her?

Isabella : On the spot!

Papà : What experience does she bring?

Isabella : Great at organising kids’ river rafting and drinking blue cocktails.

Mamma : Hmmmm.

Isabella : She’s perfect, Mamma. Trust me.