Rosa Temple - Playing for Keeps - A fun, flirty romantic comedy perfect for summer reading

His father, like mine, was Jamaican, but whereas my mother was a lily-white Englishwoman, originating from Ireland, his was a Chinese American who’d met Jack’s father at a New Year’s Eve bash just off Times Square in New York. Jack, part raised in the States, East London and Jamaica, had an engaging accent. And did I mention his magnificent skin colour? Jack had cheekbones to die for and don’t get me started on those eyes.

While we exchanged banter on our origins it was clear that Jack’s mixed parentage was a continued source of intrigue to the women who were queuing for miles, not only to experience the culinary skills he’d acquired as part of a bohemian existence, but to wrap their legs around his athletic frame.

I was genuinely fanning myself from the rush up to the shop and because it was a humid afternoon and not because Jack was a vision of gorgeousness.

He kissed my cheek. We were old friends by now.

‘I’ve reworked the drawings as per your specifications, Magenta. I hope you’ll like them… and not change your mind again.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry about that, Jack.’ I was rattling the large bunch of keys I’d accumulated since I bought the leasehold on the shop. I’d fantasised about owning this shop for ages. It was formerly owned by a classy woman who sold classic handbags and accessories but whose styles didn’t bring in enough business and she’d had to sell up. I was now able to realise my dream of bringing handbags as well as my signature man bags to the King’s Road. ‘I just wasn’t sure about the first idea. Hopefully it won’t delay things too much and we can still be on schedule for an autumn opening.’

‘I’ve got that list of builders I said I’d recommend. As long as at least one of them is free, you should be open in October, as planned.’

‘That’s great.’

We went to the back office where there was an old, but large, wooden table Jack could open the drawings out onto. I needed Jack to walk me through the concepts in situ this time. Last time I’d looked at the drawings at his office and hadn’t got a clear visualisation of where I needed shelves and racks to be or the best place to set up the cash desk. I wanted tweaks made to the depth of the window spaces so that my display shelves would stand out from the street but still give a clear view of the inside of the shop. I wanted a wall moved to create more space than previously and to give the small shop the impression of grandeur.

‘Here we are.’ Jack had several blueprints in his portfolio which he took me through methodically, speaking to me as if I were a complete moron (at my insistence because I didn’t want to mess up). If this shop looked bad, I had to live with it, so I needed all the guidance I could get.

Back out on the shop floor we walked around, Jack holding up the drawings and giving me a rundown of what the finished shop would look like after pulling up virtual sketches on his MacBook Air.

I was impressed. I looked around the dusty shop. More and more motes had settled on the old dust. The musty atmosphere had a stale odour about it. I’d left the door open for that reason. Any passers-by who couldn’t get a good view inside the empty premises via the dirty window could now see the neglected wooden floorboards and empty shelves.

As Jack and I talked and as I became convinced that these latest drawings were spot on, I couldn’t help but notice a woman with very tanned skin walk by outside. Her dirty blonde hair was so long she could probably have sat on it. She moved slowly, staring into the shop so intently she seemed to want to stop and come in. I wondered if she was a fan of our bags. They were only on sale in select outlets around the UK and parts of Europe now; otherwise worldwide sales were all online. Maybe she had seen the numerous Tweets and posts about the upcoming opening and was curious.

I returned my attention to Jack who was now telling me about his plans for a late summer holiday.

‘I’ve just been working nonstop,’ he was saying. ‘Originally I thought I’d chill out on a beach somewhere but then it occurred to me there’s family in China I’ve never even met.’

Just then the curious woman with very tanned skin walked by again. She was probably in her late twenties, early thirties, wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton top and tight, white jeans. Her sandals were high and she had a flashy straw bag, the shoulder strap across her body. She stared at me but just as I was about to smile she was out of view.

‘China, huh?’ I said to Jack. ‘I’ve never been.’

‘Me either, like I say. I expect I’ll be quite a novelty to my relatives out there. Mind you, half my mum’s family have disowned her since she married Dad so… I’m not boring you, am I?’

I shook my head. ‘Sorry, Jack. I am listening. It’s just that there’s this woman who’s walked by a few times. Keeps looking in or looking for someone. It’s not one of the girls from your harem, is it?’

Jack turned to the window. ‘Where?’

‘Wait, let’s see if she does it again.’

In less than a minute, there she was. When she noticed that both Jack and I were deliberately waiting to see her this time she put her head down and hurried off. Jack and I went to the open door and looked out. She seemed to have vanished completely from the King’s Road. Maybe she’d dodged into a shop and might return.

‘Did you see her?’ I asked Jack.

‘Yes, I did. Good-looking girl. Lovely hair.’

‘Not one of your admirers then?’

‘No. Shame. If anything, I thought she was more interested in you. Sure you don’t know her?’ Jack went to switch off his MacBook.

‘Never seen her before,’ I said. ‘She looks like she’s been travelling though. I haven’t a clue who she could be. Maybe she was one of the people I had to outbid to get this place. Maybe she’s come to put a curse on me.’

I followed Jack back to the office where he proceeded to gather his drawings.

‘You don’t believe in all that rubbish, do you? Curses and things?’ he said with a laugh in his voice. ‘I know they love a good spell or two in Jamaica. China, too, I believe. I think if you don’t believe in all that, nothing can touch you.’

Jack was all packed up now, ready to go. He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his back pocket.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Builders. Call as quickly as you can for a quote. This is a busy time of year for these guys and if none of them is any good you’ll have to do a search. If you do, get recommendations. Safer that way.’

We walked back to the open door. I was rubbing my arms, feeling a shiver as if someone had walked over my grave.

‘You’re not worried about being cursed by the woman in white, are you?’ Jack was grinning at me. ‘She didn’t look much like a witch. Not unless you get some smoking-hot witches these days.’

‘We didn’t see her close up. She might have had a wart.’

Jack kissed my cheek again. ‘I’ve got another meeting lined up, Magenta, I should go. Let me know who I need to get the drawings to when you sort out a builder.’

‘Will do.’

‘And don’t worry. No one can touch you. Your place will be sound and you’ll do great.’

‘I… I hope so.’

I waved Jack off, looking out along both ends of the road before closing the door and going out back to retrieve my bag. I called Riley.

‘In case you need me, I’m going straight home. I’ll work on these baby-changing bag ideas from the kitchen.’

‘No worries,’ Riley said in her usual bubbly way.

I wasn’t feeling bubbly as I locked the shop up, double-checking it was secure and peering through the glass to make sure I hadn’t left a light on. I took another look up and down the road before heading to my mews house just two blocks away, glancing over my shoulder and trying to shake off the feeling that I was being followed.