Page 35 of Never Too Late

“Three! Impressive.”

“Isn’t it? Anyway, he begged me to call you. He seemed to think you’d break it off with him… again… if you thought he’d simply forgotten to call. And no matter how many times, I pointed out that the Finn I knew is far more rational than that, he wouldn’t believe me. So here I am passing on the message that Cillian would much rather be whispering sweet nothings to you than verbally sparring with a man who believes he knows more about advertising than Cillian does.”

“You make me sound like an absolute nightmare,” I said with a grimace.

“Not a nightmare. Just…”

“Go on. You can be honest.”

“I think you’re waiting for Cillian to mess up again, and he knows that. And he fears falling short of your expectations and losing you for good. He knows he won’t get a third chance. He likes you Finn. Hereallylikes you. But you have him over a barrel, and that’s not a good basis for any relationship.”

I chewed on her words for a few moments. “Can I ask you something, Amrita?”

“Sure.”

“As an observer, and as someone who knows Cillian better than anyone, how do you see us ending up?”

I braced myself for the answer, knowing she’d be brutally honest. “I can see the two of you being disgustingly happy together once you work out how. The how is the difficult part.”

“Yeah, it is,” I admitted.

“But you won’t get there by holding back. You’re either willing to give things a proper go, or you’re not. Don’t keep him dangling on a piece of string, if you’re just going to give up on him at the first sign of trouble.”

“I wouldn’t,” I said. But we both knew it was a lie.

“And if he knew I’d said that to you,” Amrita said with a sigh. “He would probably fire me. For real, this time. I know who he’d choose if it came down to a choice between me or you.”

I laughed. “Yeah, right?” The silence that followed my statement said she hadn’t been joking. “This conversation won’t go any further,” I said. “You’re important to Cillian. Therefore, you’re important to me as well.”

“You see,” she said. “That’s the type of thing a girl likes to hear. So… can I buy a hat or not?”

“A hat?”

“For the wedding.”

“Whose wedding?”

She made a sound in her throat. “It’s a good job you’re pretty.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say a word. So yeah,” she said after a pause. “Cut him a bit of slack, would you? He already got it in the neck for taking off to Paris the way he did.”

“From who?”

“Me. Shareholders. His sister because he was supposed to be having dinner with her. Clients who couldn’t reach him when he threw his phone in the river.”

“He told you about that?”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“It was sweet,” I said, unable to hold back a smile at the memory.

“It was stupid, was what it was.”

“But sweet.”

“If you say so.” I could hear the roll of her eyes as clear as day. “Cillian’s always had a flare for the dramatic.”

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