“Tell me what?” pushed Flynn, eyeing us both. “What the hell is going on?”

“It wasn’t Leonie who was going to have your grandfather’s alter-ego spread across our magazine. She never told anyone.” Kerry whipped her head to me, her cheeks burning. “It was me.”

Flynn pushed both hands into the pockets of his black combats and looked from Kerry to me and then back again. “You?”

“My aunt is Athena Mayhew, editor of Goddess magazine. I was trying to impress her.”

Flynn opened and closed his mouth while the Glasgow afternoon traffic rumbled past and Christmas shoppers negotiated around each other, clutching drawstring gift bags and looking harassed.

A cacophony of emotions travelled through his eyes. “But… but how did you find out?”

Kerry’s cheeks burst into a deeper shade of pink. “I overheard both of you in the office. I just happened to be passing and heard you talking about your grandfather being the people’s artist. As soon as I heard you say that, I knew he was Chandler.”

Kerry appealed to a granite-faced Flynn.

“This had nothing to do with Leonie. She never told anyone about your grandfather, let alone me or my aunt.” She let out a sigh. “It was just me trying to prove my aunt wrong about me not making the grade as a journalist. I wanted the brownie points.”

Kerry sifted a hand through her hair. “Leonie is the most trustworthy person I know. You shouldn’t think any less of her because she doesn’t deserve it.” She threw her hands up into the air in an exasperated gesture. “All this awful misunderstanding is down to me and I’m so sorry.”

I risked a look at Flynn. He was staring across at me. He rubbed at his face. “Oh shit. What a mess. I’m so sorry, Leonie. I should never have jumped to the conclusion that I did. If it’s any consolation, I feel awful.”

Pictures of the tulle woman shot into my mind. “Right. Thank you, Kerry. I appreciate what you’ve said. Now, I’ve got a lot on back at the office…”

In a couple of long strides, Flynn was towering over me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I straightened my shoulders. “I just told you. I’m heading back to work. Now you know what really happened, everything is sorted.”

“Is it?”

I avoided his penetrating gaze. “You’d better get yourself back up there. She’ll catch her death.”

Flynn’s mouth twitched. “Are you referring to Courtney, who I was photographing when you came in?”

I arched one brow.

“Courtney is one of my regular models.”

I bet she is, snorted an inner voice.

“She also happens to be the partner of my PA, Sorcha.”

A flicker of embarrassment stirred inside of me. “Sorry?”

“Courtney is the girlfriend of my PA,” he repeated with emphasis. “She’s gay.”