The Little Shop of Hidden Treasures Part One: Starting Over by Holly Hepburn (freda ebook reader txt) 📕

Anywhere else being foster care, Hope guessed, or a distant relative or family friend who were virtual strangers. Another wave of pity swept over her. ‘That poor girl.’

‘Yeah,’ Iris agreed. ‘Obviously, it’s been tough for Will too. It’s not as though he’s got anyone to help him. Imagine going from being a single bloke to a surrogate parent overnight.’

While dealing with his own loss too, Hope thought. Although she could imagine having someone else to care for might help with the grief; plenty of people had suggested she get a puppy or a kitten in the months after she’d lost Rob but it hadn’t seemed fair when she’d be out at work every day. A child was another ballgame entirely. The sense of responsibility must be overwhelming.

‘He took a shine to you, though,’ Iris went on, a smile playing at the corners of her scarlet lips. ‘And you’re single too. New in town.’

Hope’s face bloomed with sudden heat. ‘What? That’s not true. I mean, yes I am single and new here but he definitely wasn’t… he didn’t—’

She broke off as Iris threw her a disbelieving look. ‘Hope. You could have cut the tension between you with that silver letter-opener over there.’

‘But –’ Hope flailed in mortified bewilderment, thinking back to the moment Iris had burst into the shop. ‘But there was no tension – we were chatting about the puzzle box.’

‘It looked like more than that to me. You were both smiling for a start.’ Iris waggled her eyebrows. ‘Really smiling.’

She couldn’t deny that, Hope thought, resisting an urge to fan her overheated cheeks. ‘Maybe we were,’ she said. ‘But it was on a strictly professional basis.’

The other woman nodded. ‘I’m sure it was. But even so, I know chemistry when I see it.’ She paused to smirk at Hope. ‘Sexual chemistry.’

Hope wanted to crawl under the nearby Edwardian occasional table. Iris was sharp – of course she’d noticed her admiring Will. She might as well have been projecting an enormous cartoon love heart over her head. ‘I’m sure he has enough on his plate at the moment,’ she said, hating the stiffness in her voice. ‘And I’m not looking for a relationship either.’

Instantly, Iris looked contrite. ‘Ah, I’m getting carried away – making assumptions. It’s a weakness of mine – sorry.’

Hope took a deep breath and willed her flaming skin to cool down. ‘It’s okay. No harm done.’

‘Good,’ Iris said and paused, looking at Hope with a speculative gaze. ‘If you’re not looking for a relationship, are you at least in the market for making new friends?’

‘Yes,’ Hope said cautiously.

The florist beamed at her. ‘Great! How do you feel about dancing?’

Chapter Three

Hope tugged self-consciously at the borrowed belt around her waist. The attached coins jingled musically, which only made her feel more awkward, even though the sound was barely audible among the chatter from her fellow dancers. When Iris had suggested Hope came along to her dance class on Monday evening, she’d been vague about the details and Hope had assumed it would be something like Zumba. She wasn’t sure she’d have agreed if she had known it was a belly dance class.

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ she told Iris, glancing nervously around at the other dancers. ‘I’m not very… bendy.’

Iris gave her a sunny smile. ‘You don’t have to be. The beauty of belly dancing is that it’s gentle and progressive, so you can be led by your own body. And Fleur is a wonderful teacher – you’re going to be fine.’

Their teacher certainly looked wonderful, Hope thought with an envious glance towards the front of the studio. Dressed in a neon-yellow yoga top and sky-blue leggings, Fleur was every inch a dancer. Her exposed belly was an expanse of smooth golden skin and her long dark hair almost brushed the band of the sequined belt that sat on her hips. Hope sighed and undid the knot that held her own belt in place, moving it down so that it settled in the same place as that of the teacher. The word lithe might have been invented to describe Fleur. And Hope was sure it wasn’t a word anyone would use to describe her.

‘I’m too tall to be any good,’ she warned Iris. ‘I tried dance lessons before my wedding and the teacher said she’d never seen anyone so ungraceful.’

Iris gasped and let out a short huff of indignation. ‘I hope you told her where to shove it.’

She hadn’t, Hope remembered, but Rob had, with the icy politeness that always came out when he was furious. He’d wanted to try again, with a better teacher, but Hope’s confidence had been too badly bruised. Consequently, their first dance had been a self-conscious swaying shuffle around the floor, until their guests had given in to her cajoling and joined them. It hadn’t really mattered at the time; all Hope had cared about was the look in Rob’s eyes and his arms around her. But in the long days after his diagnosis, when he’d lost the ability to walk… then she couldn’t help wishing they’d whirled like Fred and Ginger while they still could.

She knew what Rob would say to her now, just as she knew he’d be right. Straightening her shoulders, she summoned up a smile for Iris. ‘I’m being silly. Sorry.’

‘Not silly,’ Iris replied, squeezing her arm. ‘But look around – no one here has a perfect body, apart from Fleur and dancing is her job. Belly dancing isn’t about that, anyway – it’s more inclusive.’

Now that Hope looked more closely, she could see what Iris meant. There were around a dozen other women in the studio and they were a mix of ages and sizes. Some wore leggings and t-shirts, some had skirts with splits that travelled the length of their thigh and skimpy tops, but no matter how much skin they had on show, every single woman seemed comfortable and relaxed. It was a total contrast with Hope’s own