Page 93

Anyway, Penny’s scratching at the door. I’d better take her out

Enjoy St Andrews xx

Ryan is due in a couple of minutes, and after three hours in the shop, I’m not exactly date-ready.

I leave Emmy at the counter and nip into the back of the shop to inspect myself in the wee mirror above the kettle. A few curls have escaped their clip, my cheeks are pink from hauling buckets around, and there’s a smear of something green along my jaw.

I scrub the green off with my thumb, redo the clip, and give myself a spritz of perfume. Then, after a moment’s consideration, a second one.

It’s a walk, Briony. With a dog. Not the Oscars.

I haven’t seen him since Saturday. We’ve been texting, though. He asks how my day is going, I tell him far more than he asked for, and he replies to all of it. Even the bits about flowers.

The bell tinkles. I smooth my apron, have one last look in the mirror, then realise the apron is supposed to come off. I pull it off, hang it up, then head out to the shop floor.

Ryan is standing just inside the door in a white T-shirt and grey shorts. When he sees me, he grins. A proper grin, broad and unguarded.

I take him in. His crooked nose. The ears that have thickened at the tops. They’re not the traditional ingredients of a handsome man, but he’s attractive despite them.

No, scratch that. Because of them.

Penny shoots out from under the counter and, as has become standard, hurls herself at his shins.

“There she is.” He crouches, and she wriggles in delight while he rubs her ears. “Hiya, wee yin. Did you miss me?”

Emmy leans on the counter with her chin in her hand. “Morning, Ryan. I hear you were a very good boy on Saturday night. And here was me thinking you were trouble.”

Ryan looks up, one eyebrow rising.

“Right!” I hurry over and clip Penny’s lead on, then steer Ryan back to the door. “That’s us off. Bye, Emmy!”

“Enjoy!” Emmy calls after us. “And Briony, don’t get so lost in those green eyes you forget you’ve got an appointment at twelve.”

Out on the pavement, Ryan laughs. “I was a good boy, was I? What did you tell her?”

“Nothing.”

“Briony.”

“Hardly anything.” After a beat, I add, “But she is a very persistent woman.”

“Aye, I’d noticed.” He shakes his head, still grinning, and slides on a pair of sunglasses that are no doubt ridiculously expensive. “Right. What’s the plan?”

“A wee wander round the streets, a stop at the park, then coffee at Coorie & Blether. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Penny sets off at a trot, and we follow behind her.

“So,” Ryan says. “How was yesterday? Your shoot wi’ Mara.”

“Really good. Mara seemed happy. Do you want to see?”

“Course I do.”

I dig my phone out of my pocket and find the photos Mara sent me last night. My favourite is a close-up of one of the bouquets, held low against the model’s silk skirt: garden roses in blush and cream, sweet peas, and wisps of jasmine trailing almost to her knees.

Ryan takes the phone and pushes his sunglasses up onto his head to see the screen properly.