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“I’m sure. And you can take Penny with you.”
Emmy harrumphs then fetches Penny’s lead and the Crawford bouquet. Ryan straightens as she clips Penny on.
Glaring at him, Emmy says, “If you make her cry, you’ll be sorry.”
Ryan nods, as though that’s totally fair.
The bell tinkles, and then it’s just me and Ryan. I fold my arms. It’s not a particularly powerful pose on a woman of five foot three in a sap-stained apron, but it gives my hands something to do.
“Why are you here, Ryan?”
“I wanted to speak to you. About, you know, last night. I…” He glances at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck, then meets my gaze again. “I was out of order. I was cold wi’ you. You didnae deserve that.”
“Well,” I say, then find I don’t know what to say next. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting him to admit he was in the wrong.
Ryan also looks like he’s struggling to come up with his next words. This man confidently gives interviews to journalists, but he seems out of his depth here. Finally, he says, “I spoke to Niamh, and—”
“Ah,” I say.
“Ah?”
“I mean, that’s why you’re here. You spoke to Niamh, and she told you you’d messed up and should apologise. I get it now. That makes sense.”
“What? No. Well, aye, she gave me a kick up the arse. That’s true. But I’m here because I want to be.”
I don’t reply to that. If he wants to explain himself, that’s on him. I’m not going to drag it out of him.
“I wanted to say sorry,” he says. “And I wanted to ask if you—”
“You don’t need to say sorry.”
He pauses. “I think I do. I want to.”
“Nope. You were very clear yesterday. Casual. One time only. What’s there to apologise for?” My words don’t match my tone or my body posture. I still have my arms crossed, and I think I might be glaring at him.
“Briony—”
“Honestly, it’s fine. I just—” My voice wobbles. Wonderful. “In the moment, I felt like there was a spark between us, that’s all. More than just the physical stuff. Something else. But it had been a long time for me—a very long time—so I was probably just projecting something onto it that you didn’t feel. That’s on me. I got it wrong.”
“But Briony, I—”
“Apology accepted, even though it wasn’t required. Now, if that’s everything—”
“Briony, you didnae misread it. I felt it too.”
The shop goes very quiet. “Oh,” I say finally.
He blows out a breath. “Obviously, it was hot as hell. But it wasnae just that. There was something else, something I’m no used to. I like you, flower girl. That’s the problem.”
“The problem?”
“Fuck, no, I’m no saying this right at all. I’m no good at this. What I’m trying to say is…what I do is simple. Always has been. One night, naebody expects anything, naebody gets attached, everybody’s happy. That’s worked for me for years. And then you sat there and asked if I’d consider more, and I…”
He stops, shrugs. “It shouldnae have bothered me. No the way it did. I think the reason I reacted like that is because part of me wanted the same thing, to get to know you better.”
I wait for him to tell me why he of course can’t follow up on that. Why it doesn’t fit into his life plan. Instead, he says, “So…I’d like to take you to dinner. If you don’t hate me, that is.”
My brain does nothing for a few seconds.
