“I see. It’s leverage you can hold over my head.”
“Jesus, you’re cynical. Think of it as a family offer.”
“We aren’t family.” We may have been close to that once, but those bonds had strained long ago. And torn completely when I almost let him inside me.
“My brother is practically married to your best friend.”
“They’ve been dating for three months.”
“And he already has a ring stashed in his sock drawer—” His lips curled around his teeth like he could suck the words back in. Then he held up a finger. “Keep that to yourself.”
“Mal’s going to propose? That’s way too soon.”
He glowered at my obvious disapproval. “They’re happy and if they get engaged it’s no one’s business but theirs. Don’t get involved.”
Did he truly think I would? That becauseI’d given up on love, I would spread that onto my friend?
I believed in happy endings for people like April. As freshand lovely as a summer daisy, she was quick to laugh and even quicker to forgive. Easy to like and impossible not to love. Whereas I was …wrong. Like an ill-fitting pair of shoes that looked good in the store but pinched your toes and left behind blisters. An exciting diversion for a night, until they cut themselves on my sharp angles. The rough before the real thing. Too cold. Too closed off. Too muchyet not enough in all the ways that mattered.
As a child, I’d wanted to gain the weight of unwavering love so badly; I’d felt as if I bore a mark of desperation like a tattoo on my forehead. Practising pleasing smiles in the mirror until my cheeks ached. For all the good it did. My unlovable nature felt like a poisoned apple in a fruit bowl, waiting to see who’d bite next.
Refusing to look at him, I nodded to the door. “I’ll give your offer some thought.”
“You’ll think about it?” He hooted a laugh as though I were the most amusing person he’d ever met.There was a lot of that going around tonight.“Harpy, you aren’t going to find a better offer than this. Call me when you come to your senses.”
5
Juniper
Google search: Plumbing for dummies
“What a fucking mess,” Hank grunted again, crumbs from his freshly baked oatcake clinging to his bushy mutton chops. “Fiona shouldn’t have left you in charge.”
“So you’ve said.” Ignoring the burn of humiliation in my cheeks, I continued my fruitless Google search. Over the past twenty-four hours I’d contacted just about every plumber north of the English border.False. I’d made a very desperate call to a company in Newcastle. The man’s chuckling, “The Isle of where? Ah don’t think so, pet,” had felt particularly brutal.
The skip hidden around the back was now filled with ruined bedding, rugs, a spoiled mattress as well as the bathroom suites I’d foolishly let Murray tear out. This morning I’d been in the middle of comping a night’s stay and free breakfast for a disgruntled guest, as I could no longer offer the ocean-view room she’d initially booked, when Mal had appeared. Cheeks pink from the wind.
He’d only winced at my grizzly interaction and heftedwhat looked like a dehumidifier over his head. When I finally located him in the first-floor suite, he was on his knees, unspooling the cord, explaining it would remove the moisture from the air. “You should also crank up the heating. It will reduce the risk of mould forming now the evenings are growing colder.”
That had me thoroughly panicked. The old tartan wallpaper already resembled a Jackson Pollock painting. Not quite the vibe I’d been aiming for in a honeymoon suite. “How do you know all this?”
He’d hesitated, eyes flicking between me and the cord in his big hands. “Will you be mad if I say Callum?”
“No … Maybe. What’s that guy’s deal, anyway?”
“Callum’s?” He’d pushed the plug in the socket and fiddled with the dials on the boxy machine until a low whir filled the room.
“Aye.”
“He likes to help. And take it from someone who spent years trying to force him into doing the opposite, it’s easier to just go with it.”
I hadn’t agreed or disagreed.
Shrugging off the memory, I spun to face Hank. “Why am I like this?”
If he was surprised by my question, he didn’t show it. The grooves around his mouth cut into deep lines as he gave it real thought. “That’s a question with many possible answers. That morbid music you kids like so much definitely dinnae brighten yer mood.”
“I didn’t mean that.” I flicked a stray crumb his way. “My music taste is exquisite.”