‘To see clients.’
‘Clients?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘So that poster of yours got some responses, did it?’
‘Well,aclient.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Oliver told you about the posters?’
‘I saw them,’ Jem said. ‘And I admit I was glad, because Mrs Moss told me you’d quit, and I’d thought …’ He grimaced, huffing a sharp breath through his teeth. ‘Well, I suppose I thought that was something else I’d ruined.’
‘You didn’truinanything,’ she said quietly. She plucked a bottle of Mrs Winslow’s Soothing Syrup from the shelf, focusing on the label, rather than slanting a look upon his face.
‘I ruined this,’ he said. ‘Ruined the friendship between us. Between myself and Oliver, too, it seems.’
Ava put the bottle down. ‘You two still haven’t spoken, I take it?’
He shook his head. ‘Not since the market – although I’m not sure that counts.’
‘Did something happen between the pair of you?’ Her eyes flicked once more to the last remnants of his bruise.
Jem’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Are you asking if Oliverhitme?’ he snorted, his voice rich with disbelief. ‘I know I annoy him at times, but no, Ava. I-I walked into one of these damned drawers.’
He gestured at the wall, at the neat array of labels that read things likeLavenderandGinger root. Some of them hung open, midway through being stocked, and – she noticed now – a lot of themweredangerously close to eye-height.
‘Honestly, Ava,’ Jem muttered. ‘I … I have no idea why he’s still so furious at me.’
Ava’s mouth twisted into a line. ‘Well … have you broken off any other engagements, recently?’
Jem had the grace to huff a sharp laugh through his teeth. ‘That is a mistake I hated making the once, and one I shall not repeat.’
Ava felt a pang in her stomach at the wordmistake– an ache that had been sitting there, ignored for so long she’d forgotten how deep it was. How hollow.
‘Does he know that you came here today?’ Jem asked. ‘That you wish to rent the room?’
Ava scrunched her nose a little. ‘My brother doesn’t need to know everything I do, Jem.’
‘Except when it can backfire on me,’ he said, running a hand through his copper hair. ‘He’ll think it was my idea.’
‘Itwasyour idea.’
‘He’ll think I’m doing this to get back into your good books.’
Now Ava frowned. ‘Would that be such a bad thing?’
‘Yes.No—’ Jem sighed, leaning over the counter. ‘He’ll just think this was some smart little plot of mine, and it’ll only make him even more furious.’
A part of her wanted to reach out and press her hand against his, to steady him from tapping his fingers upon the counter.
She silenced that part with vicious speed.
‘What if I told him I begged you?’
‘He likely wouldn’t believe you,’ Jem huffed.
‘He might. After all, he’s part of the reason why I need to move my sessions elsewhere. Pa being the other part, of course.’
Her father had made his opinion on the matter of strangers traipsing through his house quite clear, by not coming down to eat for two full days.
Jem grimaced. ‘All the same …’
‘Please, Jem,’ she said. ‘I’ll do whatever I need to do to smooth it over with Oliver. I’ll ensure it doesn’t backfire on you. Just please, let me use the storage space if you’ve no need of it.’
