He lets out a low whistle. “I bet that went over well.”
“I…”
In the midst of the chaos and drop cloths, sat on the front counter with my ledger and laptop, is Blake’s magnificent bouquet. The blooms are dramatic, all pinks and purples and blues. It’s impossible to miss the posh flowers.
Eli blinks. “What’s…that?”
“Flowers,” I say helpfully, gesturing at the bouquet. “You can tell by the petals. And the green bits.”
My sarcasm is lost on him. What a shame.
“For the filming?” he asks, still staring at the extravagant bouquet, which really is out of place in the upside-down shop.
I hesitate a bit too long. My lips twitch, an unwanted tell. “Not…quite. Sort of. It’s related?”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s complicated.” Flushing, I look away. God, stupid complexion. If only I could keep a poker face.
Eli takes me in, perplexed. “You’re all right?”
“Aside from the fact it’s hotter than the fucking sun in here and I’m high on paint fumes and my family’s shop is in bits? I’m perfect.”
“I just saw the trailers and people outside the shop. There’s a catering tent.”
“So I hear.”
We’re quiet.
“They’re very nice flowers,” Eli admits, bemused. He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“They are,” I agree. “I’m going to take them upstairs in a few minutes before they do whatever they’re going to do to my front counter.”
He fidgets with his tie in his pocket. I continue to chew my lip.
A crew member comes up to us, interrupting our prolonged moment of awkwardness that neither one of us is particularly enjoying. I’m petty enough that I’m enjoying watching Eli’s bewilderment about the arrangement on the counter. On the other hand, I’m annoyed that he doesn’t immediately think that someone would want to send me flowers. Someone other than him.
“We’re ready to start on the front counter,” says the woman with green hair.
“We’ll be out of your way in a minute,” I tell her.
“I’m going,” Eli says. “Are you staying here tonight?”
I frown. As if I have a reserve of cash just for premium—or non-premium—London hotels. “Why wouldn’t I? I live here.”
“Because of all this…whatever this is.” He gestures around.
“They’re not filming in my flat. Their voyeurism only goes so far.”
He’s quiet. “If you need anything, or if they do take over your flat, call me.”
“You’ll chase them out?” I laugh.
He brightens at that, his expression softening. The damn man is too attractive for his own good, and he knows how to use it. “I just might.”
I swallow. “You can’t be my defender anymore.”
I hate saying it, acknowledging that truth out loud. If only I could swallow this moment down, keep it in a private place away from light and scrutiny. Granted, he’s got a track record of Aubrey defense. From dealing with arseholes at school to uni shenanigans together at UCL, Eli was always predictable and reliably in my corner.
