Chapter Thirteen

"So he's back in a week?" Fran asked as she and Lexie took a seat by the window of the independent coffee shop that Fran deemed the best in Bath. Mainly, as far as Lexie could gather, because of the fact that they often had little pieces of cake to sample for free alongside your coffee—and today's white chocolate brownie had been good enough to tempt Lexie into buying a whole one.

"Yes. A week." And the thought made Lexie's stomach squirm uncomfortably. She'd moved back to the UK two weeks ago, after wrapping everything up in Austria—but Theo hadn't been back in the office yet.

Lexie stared out the window while Fran stirred her Creme Egg latte—it was Easter in a couple of weeks, and the café had gone mad on the theme. Easter was supposed to signal spring, though, wasn't it? Outside, Bath felt distinctly un-springlike. It was cold and gray, and the sky held that pale glow that sometimes meant snow was on its way. Despite that, it was still beautiful. From here Lexie could see the River Avon running beneath Pulteney Bridge, the majestic buttermilk limestone bridge that was an iconic feature of the city. But Lexie scowled at the city, even in all its Georgian splendor.

"Seen something terrible in the water?" Fran asked.

Lexie tapped her fingers on her knee. "It's annoying," she said, ignoring Fran. "I feel like I've made the decision now— I've come back, I'm going to stay until the company sells, and because Ange is helping me, I actually stand a chance at finding my feet. But I just know he's going to come back and ruin all that."

"?‘Ruin' is a strong word," Fran said diplomatically.

Lexie turned to her friend, picked up her oat-milk latte. As a teenager, Fran used to resolutely dye the tips of her hair purple, but the lawyer in her had stopped the habit and now her long, dark, and slightly bushy hair sat around her shoulders. Lexie also remembered her favoring ripped jeans and T-shirts with band slogans—often bands Lexie had never heard of—but now, even though it was a Saturday, she was dressed in what Lexie thought of as "adult work clothes"—black jeans, a smart top, and a blazer. Still, despite the difference in appearance, she was the same Fran. And unlike a lot of their old school friends, who all seemed so sorted, with husbands and houses and children and dogs, Fran didn't make Lexie feel completely left behind. Yes, Fran had a career, which Lexie didn't have, and yes, she had bought a flat, but those things didn't seem like such a big barrier. It was probably because, unlike a lot of her other friends, Fran never seemed to judge Lexie for how she chose to spend her life. She didn't make Lexie feel inferior, or like it was a phase she should have outgrown by now. That was just one of the many brilliant things about her.

"He doesn't want me there," Lexie insisted.

" You don't want him there either."

"Only because he's making things difficult. If he'd just help to, I don't know, find some kind of balance, then we could crack on with work, turn a profit, and—"

"Sell the company."

"Exactly."

"Which he doesn't want to do."

"Well no, but—"

"And you are refusing to see his side of it."

Lexie turned her scowl on her coffee. Around them, the sound of coffee beans grinding swelled over the laughter and chatter. "As my friend, aren't you supposed to be automatically on my side in situations like this? Because you're not doing a great job at it."

"I'm just saying, it must be hard for both of you."

"Well, he doesn't have to be such a dick about it," Lexie grumbled. "It's not my fault Richard left me half his stupid company."

"It's not Theo's fault, either."

"Is this how you are in divorce negotiations—all diplomatic and shit? Because I'd think that would make you a terrible lawyer."

Fran didn't give in. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

Lexie tapped her fingers on her knee again, unable to stop twitching. "What do I do if he just refuses to sell the company?"

"Would it be that bad to keep it? I know you're doing this so you can sell it—but is there a chance you might actually enjoy it? You seemed to have a good time in France, after all."

Lexie's mind immediately went to that hotel corridor, before she shoved the memory aside. "It doesn't fit with my life," she said firmly, choosing not to discuss France or anything that may have happened there. "And it's my dad's company, Fran."

"I know. Which he left to you." Fran had experienced the highs and lows of Lexie's relationship with Richard firsthand. She'd met him when Richard had taken Lexie and Fran on a Saturday adventure, over to a nearby woodland, with cliffs that you could climb up if you were feeling brave. Lexie had been so excited. She'd been desperate to show Richard off—she'd hated him for not being around, yet she'd still been proud to introduce him to her best friend. He'd been brilliant that day, dealing with the two of them when they'd been at that awkward age between children and teenagers, making the whole thing feel like a cool adventure—then taking them to the pub later, chatting with them like they were all equals. But Fran had seen the other side, too. She'd seen Lexie trying to hide her tears when he canceled on her last-minute, had been there to deal with the fallout at her twenty-first birthday. And throughout it all, Fran had been firmly on Lexie's side, changing her opinion of Richard along with Lexie herself—until now, apparently.

"He left it to me without speaking to me about it," Lexie pointed out. "And that's so not the point."

"Did he try to talk to you about it? Before he died?"

"No!" Lexie exclaimed, even though the word "died" sent something hard shooting to her stomach. It was stupid. She'd been at his funeral, for God's sake—and it had been months now. But she still didn't like hearing that word out loud.

"He never called or anything?" Fran pressed.

Lexie shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. Talking about his company was one thing—it felt practical, and she'd managed to start thinking of it as one step removed. The truth was, her dad had tried to get in touch a few times in the last couple of years. And they'd had one disastrous meet-up, just under a year ago. She'd agreed to meet him for a coffee when she was home visiting her mum—had come to see him in Bath. He'd tried to tell her he was sorry for how he'd been, for not being there for her more when she was growing up, but the apology had felt uncomfortable, and like it was too little, too late—and she'd ended up snapping at him and leaving, coffee only half drunk. And now, she understood why he'd been trying to build a bridge. He'd wanted to connect while he still had time, and she hadn't let him get that far.

"He can't actually just refuse to sell it," Fran said. Like she knew where Lexie's brain had gone—and knew not to push it any further. "The contract makes that clear—it's not a unilateral decision. Legally, I suppose he could find a way to buy you out? Or to prove that you haven't fulfilled your side of the contract?"

Would he do that? She'd caught a brief flash of another side of him in France. But she still knew nothing about him, really. For all she knew, he could be that callous, that harsh. Unbidden, a memory of the feel of his lips on hers flashed through her. She'd dismissed it, was actively not thinking about it. But had that been part of a bigger plan, too?

"You're back now," Fran continued, and Lexie nodded.

Where was Theo right now? He hadn't said where he was going on his leave, and she'd made a point of not asking anyone in the office. Where did he go for a holiday, given he got to go so many cool places with the company? She supposed it was different from being somewhere for work—though since being a kid, she'd only been able to afford to go abroad when it was for a job, and for her that never took away the thrill of seeing somewhere new. Who was he with? A friend? She had no idea what his life was like outside the company. Was he with a girlfriend? She shouldn't care. Apart from the fact that he'd kissed her. And cheated on his poor girlfriend. His poor girlfriend she didn't even know he had.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Lexie said too quickly.

"Yes, you are: you've got that expression where you're all pre-emptively annoyed about something. It's the same one I remember from when we were kids and you were scowling at Ellen Bates for stealing a pencil she hadn't got round to stealing yet."

"I'm doing some pointless spiraling. And Ellen Bates would have stolen the pencil if I hadn't thought to prevent it."

"Spiraling about the company?"

Maybe she waited a beat too long before saying, "Yes."

Fran's eyes narrowed. "Or about a certain someone in the company?"

Lexie picked up her nearly empty coffee cup. No wonder she felt jittery—this was her third cup of the day. Note to self: drink less coffee. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, we're pretending we don't know who a certain someone is, are we? I'm confused because you keep bringing him up every five minutes. And just so you know, this is my sarcastic voice."

Lexie rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the heads-up." She shook her head. "I keep bringing him up because he annoys me and I have to work with him and he's arrogant and condescending and…Can we talk about something else?"

"You're the one still talking about him."

Lexie sighed. "You're impossible."

"I'm delightful."

"How's Noah?"

"Oh. I think that might be over."

"What? But you sounded so keen."

"That was until he told me he's not really into monogamy."

"Where do you find these people, Fran?"

"I'm on all the apps. You've got to be, if you want to meet someone." Lexie couldn't help thinking again how weird it was that the divorce lawyer was a serial dater.

"Well, good. Being single is better anyway."

"For you. But I want to find someone, Lexie."

"Even though you see how it can…" She put her mug down, decided not to finish that thought.

"How it can end? With divorce, you mean? Yes, even then."

Time to change the subject. "And you're still going to stick with it? The…"—she waved a hand in the air—"lawyering?"

Fran frowned slightly. She had a great frown, Fran—it was like she frowned with her whole face, her lip sticking out, her cheeks pulling in. It was weird, the things you missed when you didn't see people enough. "I made a list and decided the pros outweigh the cons. It was color coded and everything."

"Of course it was."

Lexie's phone buzzed on top of the table between them, and she reached for it. A WhatsApp—from Rachel. Her heart gave an extra-large thump. She didn't open it—didn't want Rachel to know she had yet—but she could see the message flashing on the top of the screen.

I hear you're back in the UK. Maybe we could talk?

"Everything OK?" Fran asked.

Lexie smoothed out her expression. "Yeah. It's just my mum, checking in, you know." She wasn't totally sure why she was lying. Fran was her oldest friend, the one person who had stuck with her—if she could talk to anyone about it, it would be her. But she didn't know what to do about Rachel. They'd never had a relationship before, when their dad was alive—why should it be any different now that he was gone? It would be the house, and Rachel wanting to clear the air. Maybe she should send her a message, telling her it was all fine. Yes, she'd do that. Then Rachel would stop trying to get in touch.

"How is it going, living with your mum?"

"I love my mum," Lexie said slowly, putting her phone down again.

"But?"

"But living at home is not super-fun. Despite the fact I have a reason to be here, it feels very much like a regression. She is brilliant and kind and cooks me pasta almost every night—but if this continues I'm going to start to look like a piece of penne, and I'm going to say something I regret when she asks me to pick my clothes up off the floor in my bedroom."

"You could move in with me?"

"What, really?"

"Sure, why not? I've got a spare room in the flat since my last housemate moved out. As long as you only leave clothes on the floor in your room and not everywhere, I'm cool with it."

"You had a housemate?"

Fran laughed. "And that shows how much attention you pay."

Lexie winced. "I'm sorry. I should have been around more. I should have—"

"Lexie, relax. It wasn't a dig. I'm sure there are things I don't know about your life, either. That's just what's going to happen, given our lives aren't twined together anymore. I don't blame you for living your life. And the offer's there, if you want it."

"In that case, that would be bloody brilliant, thank you. Shall I get us another coffee to celebrate?"

"Only if you make yours a decaf. I don't think I can stand to watch much more of your jitteriness."

Lexie gave her a wicked grin. "Oh, you are so going to regret inviting me to move in."