Page 20

She worked as quickly as she could, but her fingers fumbled time and time again as she caught Liam glancing over at her.

She could just hear his thoughts.

Typical American.

Clumsy, uncultured, will do anything for attention.

I thought you worked in a flower shop. Isn’t this the type of thing you should avoid doing?

People continued to pass by with looks of commiseration, but Claire was more focused on her face being an entire ball of flame, her ears two separate blazing fires competing to see which could burn the brightest. Had Tasha and Melody not heard the commotion? Why weren’t they there to help clean up instead of Liam?

She reached for another piece of the blue and white pot. Liam moved for the same piece, but he didn’t pull back.

“I got it,” she said gruffly, snatching it from his fingers.

This was all his fault. If he hadn’t come up to her in the first place, she never would have been frazzled, and she definitely wouldn’t have rammed into the employee.

“I’m only trying to help,” Liam said as another couple walked past.

“You’ve helped enough,” she muttered, half-hoping he’d hear her, half-hoping he wouldn’t.

“What do you mean by that?” He straightened, pulling his hands back from the wreckage with a frown. “I came over here to apologize. To make amends for—”

“For what?” she hissed, checking her tone as another group passed by. “For criticizing a stranger in an airport? For making fun of a guest of your mother’s? Or for belittling my decision to major in something so juvenile as floriculture?” She promised she wouldn’t allow herself to become anymore affected by the guy, but as angry tears welled in her eyes—borne mostly from sheer humiliation—her control slipped swiftly from her grasp. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I care so much about what you’re saying. I should expect it based on the type of guy you are.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And what type of guy am I, then?” he asked, clearly critiquing her choice of words.

That was the final straw. She dropped the last of the pot’s pieces into the pile and lowered her voice so no passersby could hear her words. “The type of guy to bring people down, just to make yourself higher. The type of guy who skips out on Christmas with his mom just to earn a few extra bucks.” She leaned closer, his eyes as hard as her heart. “The type of guy who thinks only of himself.”

She finished, staring at him with the intensity she hoped he felt in her words. But when a flash of pain flickered through his dark eyes, she blinked, finally breaking their contact.

“Here, this will help.”

The employee’s arrival drew them apart, and Claire and Liam both stood as the girl began to sweep the dirt toward the garbage bin she’d brought with her.

Claire drew deep breaths, attempting to ease the anger that was already being replaced with a nagging regret.

She picked up the pieces of the pot and dropped them into the bin, only then catching sight of Liam leaving the Temperate House altogether.

Instead of feeling accomplished with her success of being rid of him, she blew out a sigh, her heart twisting like the strands of a sour candy cane.

Now she was the one who had to apologize. Dang it all.

SEVEN

Standing in the entryway of Tasha’s home the next morning, Claire tapped her foot on the gray rug and flicked her gaze up the stairs again.

The bathroom door was still closed. What in the world was taking Melody so long? Twenty minutes had passed since their scheduled time to leave at eight o’clock, and she still wasn’t ready.

With Tasha going to work that day, Melody had promised Claire a touristy day in London with just the two of them. Claire had woken up early that morning at seven, planning on being extra loud as she got ready, just to sneakily wake up Melody, but she was happy to discover her friend already up and occupying the bathroom.

Fortunately, Claire had had the foresight to shower the night before, as Melody had yet to return to their room. Still, doing her hair and makeup with a minuscule hand mirror in the bedroom hadn’t been easy.

Claire glanced at the time on her phone before tucking it away with another sigh and readjusting her coat over her arm. In college, she had always hurried Melody to classes, to church, to dances—basically any activity that required attendance. While being late was one of Claire’s pet peeves, being rushed just so happened to be one of Melody’s.

Still, if Claire didn’t find out soon when they’d leave, she was sure she was going to—

Footsteps sounded upstairs, and Liam descended the steps. At the sight of him, dread nudged its way to the center of her chest like a pestering relative delivering unwanted fruit cake for Christmas.