Page 21 of You, As You Are

“We’re done. Thank you for modelling for me.”

“You’re welcome, sweet pea.” Vera removed the earring and held it across her palm. “I just know that some of the girls you met on Saturday would love these.”

“Well they could always come over to look through my stock. It’d make more sense than buying through my website.” Maisie carefully took the earring back and attached it with the otherin the pair to its backing card, printed with outlined florals and ‘Maisie By Design’written across the top.

Sometimes when a box of packaging supplies arrived with her brand cutely designed all over them, she couldn’t believe it – that her little hand-made shop had come this far at all. The online market was saturated with talented crafters; she’d never expected for people to want to buyherjewellery. And now here she was, shipping orders all over the world. It was insane, really. But Maisie was proud of herself for what she’d steadily created over the last eight years.

“I’ll mention it. We could organise an evening,” Vera said breezily as she swept through the room and dropped down onto her settee. “Speaking offriendsandSaturday …”

Maisie sensed in the marrow of her bones what was coming. She busied herself with dismantling the photoshoot set-up that cluttered the dining table, purposefully avoiding Vera’s feline smirk. There was only one direction that this conversation was going to take.

“Iain texted to ask me about you today.”

Texted?That was adjacent to what Maisie expected but still it shocked her. A fireball burst within her chest at the mention of Iain’s name, but she refused to acknowledge what that meant just yet.

Okay, act casual.“He did?”More casual than that. She cleared her throat. “About what?”

“He wondered how your bum was feeling after the nettle incident.”

Maisie doubted Iain would be so direct. It’d been like plucking hairs trying to draw out details about his life at first, until a comment about guys havinggentle contacthad cracked a piece of his steel-wrapped shell. That joke had been daring, even for her.

“He didn’t actually say that, did he?”

“Well not in so many words, but it was implied.”

Right, now don’t overthink this.Though grouchy enough to rival the Grinch, Iain had slowed himself down to her pace and checked numerous times if she was alright on that hike, barely half an hour after meeting her – if falling into someone’s arms and catching them could be classed as ‘meeting’? He hadn’t acted like he’d been forced to keep her company or talk to her, so why would those courtesiesnotextend to texting her grandma days after the fact for a check in?

Of course, this was all an assumption that hehadtexted Vera at all. Maisie wouldn’t put it past her to stir up trouble …again.

If Iain really did want to know, well then her arse was still tender from falling flat into that thicket of stinging nettles. Maisie didn’t know what was wrong with her nervous system that she hadn’t realised it at first. Maybe her reaction had been delayed by the very rare shot of adrenaline to her blood from propelling herself downhill?

Her blisters were the size of melons.

Her knees had officially died.

Was it possible to bruise a boob?

Maisie’s pride was wounded more than she was. At least she’d caught the plastic wrapper though, which is what had mattered most.

“Are you blushing?” Vera pressed.

“No. I’m warm. Too many layers.”

Too many thoughts of Iain when she’d been stretched out at his feet, looking up at him with his stupidly green eyes and infuriatingly good beard. The man had done the bare minimum of kindness to another human being and she was getting all hot and bothered. That said a lot about her shrivelled-up dating life.

“Iain is a nice man,” Vera said dreamily. “Quiet, but good to all of us in the group. And very handsome too.”

Maisie wasn’t going to comment or agree or do anything to suggest that she might like the rough-edged gentleman more than she should. “What did you respond to his text with?”

“Your phone number.”

“Nain!”

“I am joking, Moo Moo.” Vera laughed. “I answered that you were well, and implied that texting you himself would be better. I am guessing that he hasn’t or else you wouldn’t look so shocked.”

Right then, Maisie’s phone began to ring on the table.

Vera jumped to her feet like she’d sat on a cactus. “Ooo,I bet that’s him! He must have finished work. Answer him.”

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