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“Good morning to you too. Everything all right? I only knocked because I thought you looked a bit frantic.”

“I’m fine. Just running a bit behind with that big wedding I told you about. Sorry, I don’t really have time to talk.”

I start to push the door shut again, but Ryan says, “Where’s the lassie you hired to help you? The freelance florist?”

“Oh. She cancelled.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She did it last night. Sent a text saying something had come up and she couldn’t make it today. It really wasn’t much warning.”

His jaw tightens. “You’re fucking joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“What about Emmy?”

“She stayed late yesterday to help get things organised, but then she left for a night out with Niamh and some friends from college. The message from the freelancer arrived after she’d already left, and I didn’t have the heart to ring her and ask her to come back.”

“She would have. You know that, right? I don’t know Emmy well, but I’m sure she’d have come back to help you out.”

“Yeah, but it’s my responsibility. It’s my name above the door. This is Briony’s Blooms, after all. Anyway, Ryan, I’m sorry, but I really have to get back to it. So if you wouldn’t mind⁠—”

But instead of leaving, he steps into the shop. Penny plods out from under the counter to give him a sleepy, half-hearted welcome, then heads straight back to her spot for more sleep.

“So if the freelancer cancelled and you won’t call Emmy, how are you gonnae manage?” Ryan asks.

I can’t afford to stand around chatting when I’ve got so much to do, so I head back over to the bench. “I’ll just have to,” I say. “Besides, Emmy is due to come in just before eight to get the shop set up for the day.”

I wind the twine round the stems. “She can come with me to the venue instead. We’ll just have to close the shop today. Closing on a Saturday in July isn’t ideal—it’s one of the best trading days of the year—but I really don’t have any other choice. The arch takes two people, and there are sixteen centrepieces, and⁠—”

“Can I help?”

I stop what I’m doing and look up. “What?”

“I’ll be honest wi’ you, I know fuck all about flowers, but if you can tell me what you need me to do, I’ll do it. And I’m happy to go to the venue wi’ you.”

“Oh, no, Ryan. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didnae ask me. I offered.”

“I’ll be away for hours⁠—”

“Doesnae matter. All I need to know is, can I help? Like, is there grunt work I can do while you handle the stuff that takes actual skill?”

I bite my lip. “Yes, but really, I wouldn’t want to⁠—”

“Then count me in. And if that means Emmy can stay here and open the shop, all the better. What do you need from me?”

I blink, then blink again. I don’t know why I’m getting tearful, but a few minutes ago it was all getting a bit much, and now there’s somebody here who wants to help me.

“If you’re sure—” I begin.

“I’m sure.”

“All right. Well, maybe first of all, you could make us both a coffee?”

Ryan grins. “I can do that.”