The Fine Art of Losing Control by Ashley Shepherd

Author:Ashley Shepherd [Shepherd, Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

When we pull up to The Honey Hive, a bee sanctuary, all eyes are on me. Not exactly a place someone with a bee allergy should be, but alas, here we are.

“Not exactly the family farm I’d envisioned,” Ollie says, shifting his eyes to me.

“That’s because we’re at an apiary.”

“Yes, I know. I can’t beelieve it.”

“Well, no one’s asking you to come,” I say. “Stay in the van for all I care.”

“I just don’t understand why you changed your mind about meeting your mum’s family.”

“You don’t have to understand ,” I tell him as I get out of the van. “All that matters is that we’re here and I’m going to see if the lady that runs this place knows where Benji is.”

“And what happens if she doesn’t?”

“I don’t know, Ollie. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“Good God,” Daphne mumbles as she shoves past us. “Get married already.”

“I’d rather get stung by ten thousand bees and have my throat swell up and die,” I say

“Well, here’s your chance, sweetheart,” Ollie replies.

Every fiber in my being wants to jam down on his foot, but I don’t. Not because I’m the bigger person—I’m not—but because Tosh wraps his arm around my shoulders and drags me away before I can do any damage.

The Honey Hive is buzzing—both figuratively and literally. There are swarms of people bumbling about. Lines of happy customers spilling out of the small store, so eager to get their hands on a jar of honey or some weird organic beauty products or a glass of their famous Queen Bee Tea, which is simply just iced tea and lemonade sweetened with honey. They offer classes on honey harvesting. They have a museum on all things bees. For the kids, they have an arts and crafts section where they can make their very own beeswax candle.

Fun for the whole family!

There wasn’t much about Janey online. Everything on her social media was geared towards The Honey Hive. But I did find an article about the charity benefit she hosted that mentions Benji donating a few pieces.

“Fucking wanker,” Ollie hisses.

When I look over at him, he’s hunched over with his hand cradling his calf.

A bee sting.

I try not to laugh.

I fail.

Miserably.

“So happy you’re having a laugh, Willa,” he mumbles, digging the stinger out.

I shrug. “Are you allergic?”

“No.”

“Okay, then better you than me.”

He snarls and shakes his leg a few times before straightening it out, gritting his teeth at the pain. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Listen, I’m the one with the allergy. If I’m not complaining, neither should you.”

“You’ve got an allergy?” Ollie’s eyes go wide. “Are you bloody mad? This is dangerous.”

“Please, you jumped off a bridge,” I say, rolling my eyes. “And I haven’t been stung in, like, ten years. In the unlikely event that it happens, I give you permission to stab me with my EpiPen. But honestly, anaphylaxis sounds a hell of a lot better than being around you right now.”

“#troubleinparadise,” Daphne whispers, carefully angling her camera away from us.

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