Page 35 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

Zach stuffed his hands into his long coat pockets. “You look like you’re struggling there.”

“Not at all,” I puffed, hoping I didn’t trip over the pavement and land arse over head in front of him. “They aren’t that heavy.” I angled myself past him. “Doing some shopping, are we?”

He flexed a brow. “No, doing my job.”

Of being a pain in the neck, I grunted to myself.

I willed my van to move closer, but it sat there in all its pink and white glory further up the kerb. “Ha. Allow me,” he announced, before sweeping the fat rolls of crêpe paper out of my arms and into his.

I was ready to protest, but he just strode on ahead with them, like they weighed nothing.

His mouth trembled, as he approached my van, clutching the crêpe paper. “I take it this sporty little number is yours?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

I cranked open the back of the van and he slid the rolls inside.

I banged the doors shut again. He was towering over me, all black hair and blazing eyes. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. See you again soon.”

And with that, he sauntered back off along the pavement.

* * *

My laptop was set up on the counter as I scrolled through my inbox, in between dealing with customers, after I arrived back from the stationery shop.

A new email flickered up on the screen, taking me by surprise, although given what had happened, it shouldn’t have been unexpected.

Hi Bailey,

Hope all is well with you.

I’m Corrie Hardwick, assistant to Ezra King’s manager, Densie Gold.

This is just to confirm that after careful consideration, Mr King has decided not to proceed with your floristry services for his home, nor for his private party on 31 December.

I realise this must be a great disappointment to you, but I understand it is not unexpected due to recent circumstances.

We will, however, be more than happy to compensate you for any time you’ve already spent working on the floral displays.

Look forward to hearing from you soon.

Best,

Corrie

Sublime Entertainment Management Agency

A heavy feeling lodged itself in my stomach.

Well, that was his prerogative.

My head was jammed with memories of what I’d been through with the press. Ezra wanted what I wanted; a peaceful existence; a chance to breathe and re-set. And yes, I didn’t want Zach finding out about who I was. Was that so much to ask?

My mobile buzzed under the counter. It was a text from Marcus, saying he was on his way, the traffic on the motorway was slow but steady and he estimated he would arrive within the hour.

I dashed a reply back, promising to have the kettle on for his arrival and told him to take it easy. I was looking forward to having him come and stay. It would be nice to have his tall, rangy, brotherly presence around the place for a few days.