‘Hi, guys.’ She settled herself on the stool and smiled at the barman. ‘Hi, Geoff. The usual, please.’
He reached for a bottle of grapefruit juice. ‘On the hard stuff, Bryony?’
‘That’s me.’ Bryony nodded her thanks and lifted the glass in a salute. ‘Cheers, everyone. And happy birthday, Oliver.’
Her brother grinned. ‘Thanks, babe. You OK?’
‘I’m fine.’ In fact, she was better than fine. She was brilliant. And she was finally going to restart her life.
As if to test that resolve, Jack strolled over to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek.
‘What did the blonde say when she walked into the bar?’
‘Ouch,’ Bryony answered wearily, rolling her eyes in exasperation. ‘And, Jack, you really need some new jokes. You’re recycling them.’
He yawned. ‘Well, I’ve been telling them for twenty-two years—what do you expect?’
‘A bit of originality would be nice,’ she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink and making a point of not looking at him. She wasn’t going to notice Jack any more. There were plenty of men out there with good bodies. He wasn’t the only one. ‘Maybe I should dye my hair brown to help you out.’
‘Brown? Don’t you dare.’ Jack’s voice was husky and enticingly male. ‘If you dyed your hair brown, you’d ruin all my jokes. We love you the way y
ou are.’
Bryony took a gulp of her drink. He didn’t love her. And he never would love her. Or, at least, not in the way she wanted him to love her.
‘Bry, are you free on Thursday or Friday?’ Oliver leaned across the bar and grabbed a handful of nuts. ‘Mum wants to cook me a birthday dinner, whole family and Jack in attendance.’
Bryony put her glass down on the bar. ‘Can’t do Thursday.’
Jack frowned. ‘You’re on an early shift. Why can’t you do it?’
Bryony hesitated. ‘Because I have a date,’ she said finally, and Oliver lifted his eyebrows.
‘A date? You have a date?’
Jack’s smile vanished like the sun behind a cloud. ‘What do you mean, you have a date?’ His voice was surprisingly frosty. ‘Since when did you go on dates?’
Bryony took a deep breath and decided she may as well tell all. ‘Since I saw Lizzie’s Christmas list.’
At the mention of Lizzie, Jack’s expression regained some of its warmth. ‘She’s made her list already?’
‘She has indeed.’
‘Don’t tell me.’ His voice was indulgent. ‘She wants something pink. A new pair of pink wings for her fairy costume?’
‘Nope.’
Oliver looked at her searchingly. ‘Well? We’re all dying to hear what she asked for. And what’s it got to do with you going on a date?’
Bryony sat still for a moment, studying her empty glass. ‘I’m going on a date,’ she said slowly, ‘because Lizzie wants a daddy.’ She looked up and gave them a bland smile. ‘Lizzie has asked for a daddy for Christmas.’
There was a long silence around the bar and the men exchanged looks.
It was Jack who eventually spoke first. ‘Does she realise that they’re not all they’re cracked up to be?’
There was bitterness in his tone and Bryony frowned slightly. She knew that his parents had divorced when he’d been eight and she also knew that it had been a hideously painful experience for Jack.
But it was unlike him to ever mention it.