Page 55

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve actually got a bridal editorial coming up in July, if you’d be interested in more of this sort of work?”

“Yes, very interested.”

“Wonderful! I’m so glad Ryan mentioned you to me.”

I blink. “Sorry, Ryan?”

Mara winces. “Oh dear, that just slipped out. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Well, I suppose the cat is out of the bag now. You were recommended to me by Ryan Sloan. He messaged me saying that if I ever needed flowers for a shoot, I should try your shop. As it happened, the timing was perfect because I had the Moss & Ember campaign coming up. He did ask me not to mention him, though. Oops.”

I’m too surprised to say anything for a second. Ryan recommended me? Oh God, is the only reason I got this job because of him?

My thoughts must be written all over my face because Mara says, “To be clear, Briony, Ryan’s recommendation is what brought you to my attention, but your work is what got you the job.”

That does make me feel better, but I’m still a little confused. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you know Ryan?”

“I’ve worked with him on a few shoots for Razor Athletics.”

Razor Athletics. I remember the advert I came across the night I looked Ryan up on social media. Ryan in nothing but compression shorts, black and alarmingly snug. I can think of worse ways to spend a working day than hanging out on the set of that shoot.

“Oh. Right,” I say to Mara.

“Anyway, I’ll send you over the details for the bridal editorial once I’ve got everything confirmed. Okay?”

I nod. “That would be great. Thanks.”

She gives me a smile, then goes back over to the women from Moss & Ember.

I load the last of the buckets and boxes into the van, all the while turning one question over in my head.

Ryan recommended me. Why?

I get home just before six. By the time the van has been unloaded and I’ve filled Emmy in on my day, all I want is a shower, something hot, and several hours horizontal. The photoshoot was fun but exhausting, probably because I spent the whole day trying my hardest to make a good impression.

Before I can relax, though, there’s one thing I need to do first.

Penny and I head upstairs. On our landing she stops at our door, then quickly trots after me when I carry on past it. We go up the next flight of stairs, past the stained-glass window, to Ryan’s place. I knock.

Footsteps, then the door opens. Ryan stands in front of me in nothing but a towel.

He’s fresh from the shower, skin flushed from the heat. Water beads on his shoulders and runs in slow lines down his chest and over his stomach.

My brain stops working.

He folds his arms, muscles tightening across his chest. It doesn’t help matters.

Who answers a door like this? Ryan Sloan, apparently.

“Aye?” he says.

Suddenly I have no idea why I’m here. There was a reason, I’m sure of that, but whatever it was, it’s gone.

Penny steps forward and licks water off Ryan’s shin.

“Penny!” I say, mortified.