Sheila hums knowingly. “Och, he’s a charmer, that one. Keeps the tourists busy in summer, if you know what I mean.”
My stomach tightens. “Aye, I got that vibe.”
I picture the blonde runner from the beach last weekend. The one who’d casually touched Struan’s arm and exchanged numbers with him.
I overheard enough of Malcolm and Struan’s conversation yesterday to know that Struan went to her house for an appointment. Seemed pretty keen that his dad didnotgo with him.
No prizes for guessing why.
It really shouldn’t bother me. In fact, it’s a good thing. Because it reminds me who he is.
There’d been moments at the barbecue—and that night he helped me with my bed—when I’d started letting Struan’s charm slip past my defences. Started softening towards him.
Talk about not learning from my mistakes.
After Danny, I really should know better. Men like that are all sparkle and no substance. They make you feel special right up until you realise you’re not the only one they’re making feel that way.
So yes. It’s agoodthing I’ve come to my senses.
I just wish itfeltgood.
The sign is up.
I stand on the pavement with Mum, Da, and Lily, tilting my head back to take it in.the lily room, spelled out in elegant rose-gold lettering against a soft blush background, with a delicate water lily to the right of the words. It’s exactly what I envisioned when I sketched it out months ago, back when this whole thing was just a desperate dream scribbled in a notebook.
“Well?” I crouch down to Lily’s level. “What do you think, baby?”
She scrunches her nose. “Where’s my face?”
“Your face?”
“It’s the Lily Room. Shouldn’t my face be on it?”
I blink. “What? No, that was never the plan. But look—itsaysLily, and there’s a pretty water lily. See?”
Lily considers this for approximately half a second. “It’d look better with my face on it.”
Mum stifles a laugh behind her hand. Da doesn’t bother hiding his.
Despite my daughter’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction, I pull out my phone and snap a selfie in front of the sign, angling to catch the lettering behind me. I tap out a quick caption and post it to social media.
Signage installed! It’s official: the Lily Room is ready to bloom
“Right,” I say, pocketing my phone. “Who wants the grand tour?”
Da’s face lights up. Mum and I have been keeping him away from the salon during the renovation. Officially because we wanted him to see the finished product without “spoilers”. Unofficially because we were worried he might try to step in and “help”. Da and tools just do not go together, no matter how good his intentions are.
“Lead the way,” he says.
I head in first, holding Lily’s hand. There’s a moment of quiet as Mum and Da take it in.
“Oh, Ainsley.” Mum presses a hand to her chest. “It’s gorgeous.”
“It really is something, love,” Da agrees, turning slowly, his eyes roaming over every detail. “You should be proud.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “Thanks, Da.”
Lily, apparently over her signage grievance, lets go of my hand and clambers up onto one of the styling chairs. “Can I have my hair cut here, Mummy?”
