Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-two

Lexie spent the next few weeks in the office trying to put what had happened in Spain behind her. Trying to pretend that every time she looked at Theo across the room, she didn't remember what it had been like to have him pressed against her, on top of her. And she'd been busy—they'd all been busy, with a lot of customer inquiries, finalizing the plans for the Christmas trip in Vienna, thinking about new ideas for next year's Lemon Festival in France, as well as getting ready for the summer and autumn trips. She had to focus, make sure she pulled her weight.

She was sitting at the desk in the front office and was in the process of inquiring about room availability and a possible group discount at a boutique hotel in Madrid that they'd short-listed for next year, when her phone buzzed on the desk next to her.

Fran.

How's it going?

She'd told Fran what had happened in Madrid, and how she was sure kissing him had been a stupid thing to do. And the last two weeks had been a test, waiting to see if anything would be mentioned, trying to figure out if it shifted the balance between them at all—and she'd needed someone to talk to about that.

I'm maintaining my impeccable air of professionalism.

She got a line of strong arm emojis back, followed by

I'm going to be late back AGAIN tonight. But if you're still up can we have a wine? My client didn't get the custody settlement he wanted, my head hurts with the stress of it, and I'm so sick of my office, I'm thinking I might need to redecorate.

That sucks, I'm sorry.

The head—yes. The office—I'm not sure I'm actually allowed to redecorate, so that also sucks. But the client, not so much. I'm pretty sure he was a bit of a dick.

Well I'm all up for wine. But thought you had a date tonight?

He canceled. Still in love with his ex-girlfriend.

Lexie shook her head at her phone as she switched the screen off. She didn't really get why Fran couldn't find someone, given how she put herself out there. She was—objectively speaking—pretty damn great. In a perfect world, there would be a nice, handsome, kind man she could set Fran up with from her office. But the only single and age-appropriate man was Theo. Theo, who was currently heading across the office and toward the back door, having just come in from the street with Mike. Their heads were bent together, Theo nodding along to something Mike was saying. He caught her eye, smiled briefly, and she immediately flicked her gaze away, back to the computer screen.

It had been a one-time thing, that was all. Or a no-time thing, depending on how you looked at it. But she still felt rejected. He'd wanted her—she'd felt that. Yet he'd walked away. And she didn't quite know what to do with that.

Mike and Theo were through the back door and Lexie could hear their footsteps as they headed up to Theo's flat. It made the second time in one week she'd seen the two of them having some sort of private meeting.

Ange came out from her back office, carrying a cup of tea for Lexie.

Lexie smiled up at her. "It's not your job to bring me tea."

Ange waved that away, and her dangly earrings—dragonflies today—swayed with the movement. "We all bring each other tea."

Lexie took a sip. Somehow, Ange always got tea to be the perfect temperature, right from the outset. "What are Theo and Mike talking about, do you think?"

Ange leaned again her desk. "Nothing Theo can't handle, I'm sure."

"So you're saying there is something to handle?"

Ange looked at her, those pale green eyes assessing her. "Has Theo told you anything about Mike?"

"Only that he and my dad had a ‘complicated' relationship. But they were friends, right? That's what Mike said."

"Yes, they were friends. Mike was actually the one to give your dad the loan to start the company."

Lexie set her tea down. "What, really?"

"Not all of it. But business loans aren't easy—and your dad didn't have a lot of savings."

Lexie didn't even know what he'd done before the company. Something in sales—she remembered that vaguely, and it was the line she'd parroted whenever she was asked what he did.

"From what I gather," Ange continued, "and bear in mind this is all secondhand information, Mike and your dad started spending more time together after Richard moved to Bath."

Just after he'd left Rachel's mum, Lexie thought. After he'd abandoned another family.

"Anyway, Mike wanted a new venture, offered your dad some money, and your dad took the loan."

Lexie tried to get her head around this. "But it was never co-owned?"

"Well. Mike owned ten percent up until about two years ago, but he sold the shares back to your dad then, so Richard owned the whole thing."

"Why? Why did he sell his shares, I mean?"

"Well, the travel industry wasn't doing too well then because of Covid, so I think Mike thought it might go bust—probably seemed like the right time to get out, get the money back."

"But my dad didn't think it would go bust?"

"Or hoped, at least," Ange said, with a little smile.

It explained why there had been the subtle undercurrent with Mike, the sense that he wasn't entirely happy with how things were currently panning out. He'd put down money on the company, helped start it. And now he had nothing—just a job on a very average salary. Though, to be fair, he didn't actually seem to do a lot for that salary. "Why didn't Richard leave the company to Mike? In part, at least?"

Ange tapped her fingers on Lexie's desk. "Mike…Look, I've got nothing against the guy. But he checked out when it looked like things were going badly. He wants back in now, of course, but if it got tough, he'd be out again without a thought. Theo, on the other hand, worked every hour there was, even when his salary was cut. He and your dad were brilliant, refusing to give up even when it was impossible to carry on business as usual as a travel company. When things were starting to open back up again, they started up trips in England first, before the travel restrictions were lifted—were one of the first travel companies to do so. They worked within the rules, figured out how to make people feel safe. So it made sense to me when I found out that Richard had left Theo half the company—even if I'm not sure it has always made sense to Theo."

Lexie frowned a bit at that. She'd never questioned whether Theo thought he deserved his share of the company—or maybe even more than that. But Ange was carrying on now.

"But there's a reason he didn't leave it wholly to Theo—or even to Mike and Theo." She hesitated, then smiled in that kind way of hers. "I know you're unlikely to believe me when I tell you this, but I think the company was always partly yours, in his head—right from the beginning."

Lexie shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No? The company was built for people who love to travel. For people who crave adventure, who want to get to know a place through celebrating there. Are you really telling me that doesn't remind you of anyone?"

Lexie said nothing. She thought of how she had inadvertently grown up to keep the tradition of spending Christmas abroad, because it never felt right to spend it at home. She thought of Iceland again, and of how she'd felt like her dad had turned their family tradition of spending Christmas somewhere new each year into something that made money. But now, knowing the company better, she also knew that he likely could have made a lot more money if he hadn't focused on supporting local businesses. It was just another thing she couldn't quite work out about her dad.

Ange gave her another smile, and there was a tinge of sadness there now. "I'm not saying your dad was perfect. Far from it—if my son ever treated his children the way Richard treated you, I don't know what I would do. But people are rarely black and white, are they?"

—

Theo came back downstairs around lunchtime and headed straight over to Lexie's desk. "Hey."

She offered him what she thought was a polite smile. "Hey."

"You eaten yet?"

"No, why, is there a meeting?"

"Sort of. Come on." He jerked his head to get her to follow him, then headed for the front door onto the street.

"What…?"

"We're going for lunch," Theo said, holding the door open for her.

"Um…"

"Come on," he insisted, waggling the door a little for emphasis. "Ange?" Lexie followed the direction of Theo's gaze to see Ange emerging from the back room. "I'm taking Lexie out for lunch to discuss a few things."

"No need to explain, you don't answer to me. I'm off early today to pick Ivy up from nursery, but have a lovely lunch."

And that, apparently, was that. Lexie got to her feet and slid out the front door, careful not to brush against Theo as she did so. It was warm outside, a sunny June day, and Bath's golden buildings shone more brightly as a result. It was early enough in the summer that it was still a luxury to step outside in her long skirt and sleeveless blouse without needing a jacket.

She glanced up at Theo. "Is no one else coming?"

"Nope. Just the two of us." He started walking purposefully, and after the briefest of hesitations, she matched his pace.

"Why?"

"Because you've been awkward and weird since we got back from Madrid."

"No, I haven't!" Lexie exclaimed automatically. He raised his eyebrows and she wrinkled her nose, embarrassment heating her cheeks. "Fine, maybe a little. I don't usually get awkward and weird."

"So why did you?"

Lexie pressed her lips together, not sure what to say. She didn't really know why. She'd had plenty of flings in the past. She supposed the difference was they'd actually been flings and usually she was the one to walk away, before they could decide they were done with her.

His lips twitched, something apparently funny in her nonanswer. "Besides, we do actually need to run through some things—why not do it over food?"

He led her to an independent café on Margaret's Buildings, a little street that was known for its local shops and restaurants, situated in a hot spot between the Circus and the Royal Crescent. They grabbed a table outside on the paving stones, Theo slipping his sunglasses on and Lexie wishing she'd remembered hers. The café itself was bright green, with paper chains hanging in the window, and had that kind of intimate feel that could never be replicated in a chain restaurant. The outside tables were buzzing and Lexie could see a table of four women, all with Aperol Spritzes, making the most of the early English sun. Given she had to get through an entire hour with just Theo, she was quite tempted by an Aperol herself, but opted for an iced latte instead.

While the waiter was getting their drinks, Theo leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. "So. Just to clear the air—do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Lexie asked slowly.

"What happened in Madrid."

"Nothing to talk about, right?" She tried to keep her voice light, even though her stomach was squirming.

"If you say so."

"It was a one-time thing," Lexie insisted, the words coming easily, maybe down to the number of times she'd repeated them to herself.

"OK," Theo said, his voice casual. He thanked the waiter who brought out their drinks, and they ordered their food. It was all locally sourced, and breakfast was served all day, so Lexie opted for the Turkish eggs

She waited for Theo to press her on the subject as the waiter took their menus, and when he didn't, she frowned—it seemed too easy. But if he wasn't going to push, she certainly wasn't. "Saw you talking to Mike," she said.

"Yeah." An expression crossed his face that she couldn't quite read.

"He's not happy?"

"I'm actually not sure, despite his blustering, Mike is ever happy."

"Ange told me he used to own ten percent of the company."

"Yep."

"And now he owns zero percent."

Theo just shrugged, taking a sip of his citrus juice—a specialty of the café, apparently.

"Even though he lent my dad the money to start it."

"Which your dad paid back," Theo said pointedly, just as their food came out.

Lexie added salt to her eggs, took a bite, then immediately wished she'd forgone the salt—they'd gotten the seasoning just right without it. It was still delicious, though, the garlicky yogurt somehow exactly the right amount of garlic. Theo's mushrooms on toast looked good too, and Lexie decided she'd bring Fran here on the weekend.

"Does Mike want it?" Lexie asked after swallowing. "Does he want his share back or whatever?"

Theo sighed. "What Mike wants varies from day to day. He'll want in again if the profit projections are good, but out if it looks like too much of a gamble. Speaking of which—it's looking tight, but if Vienna and Belgium sell out, I think we'll make our targets—and we might even have enough to revisit the investment idea, if it's something you're still open to."

"Of course," Lexie said, though she felt a twitchiness settle over her skin. If she got her way and they agreed to sell the company, it wouldn't be her business whether the investment idea went ahead, would it? Wouldn't be Theo's business either—unless he was kept on. Maybe he would be, she told herself. Surely whoever bought it would need a manager to run the whole thing. Lexie dipped her bread into the runny part of the poached eggs to distract herself. "So what do you need from me?"

"Well, I wanted to run an idea past you."

"Really?" The word was out before she could think about it.

He laughed a little. "Don't act so surprised—you told me yourself not all your ideas are inherently terrible, so maybe you can tell me whether this one is terrible."

In France—hadn't she said something like that at the Lemon Festival? She was surprised he'd remembered such a passing comment. "OK, so what's the idea?"

"So, it's looking like we'll get thirty people booked in for Vienna—"

"Which is actually pretty awesome for a first year, according to Ange."

"Which is indeed actually pretty awesome for a first year. Anyway, it's not too big a group, so I was thinking, to sort of try it out, we could do like a Secret Santa."

"A Secret Santa?"

"It's where—"

"Theo. I know what a Secret Santa is."

He ran a hand across the back of his neck. A nervous tic. "Right. Well, the Christmas markets are one of the main attractions in Vienna so I thought as part of it we set a limit, and pull names out of a hat, the whole lot, and send everyone off one afternoon to get their present."

"What if some people don't want to spend money on a stranger? I think it's a fun idea, but some people—"

"Yeah, so we should actually have some money in the budget for the holiday left over after the discount on the hotel, so we can cover something small with that."

She took a sip of her iced latte. "And then everyone could open them on Christmas Eve? That's the big day in Austria."

"Right, exactly."

"I think it's a great idea," she said decisively.

"Really?"

Lexie smiled a little at the fact it was now him asking that. "I can give credit where it's due." But she realized he'd genuinely been asking her opinion—and she remembered how he'd talked about the investment idea in the first place—how much he'd reassured them all that Richard, too, had thought it was a good idea. Like he needed the validation, to know that his idea was worth something. Was this another reason Richard had put the two of them together, because they could help each other? Or was she just looking for reasons when there were none?

"So that's what you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked as Theo finished the rest of his mushrooms.

"Yeah. That—and…We've got the Christmas party in two weeks. Plus ones encouraged, by the way."

"I don't have a plus one," she said without thinking.

"I know that." He grinned in a way that made her flush. "But bring a friend. Or your mum or whatever."

"OK," Lexie said slowly. "But, you know it's July in two weeks, right, not December?"

"Yeah, we're doing Christmas in July. It's a thing. The Christmas period is always a bit hectic for us, so we never have it in December. It was a tradition your dad started," he added, his smile softer now, "and I think it might be cool to carry it on—for this year at least."

"Can we afford it? The company, I mean?"

"Yeah, I mean—it might have to be drinks and ‘snacks' rather than a full-on three-course sit-down dinner, but given the year we've had…I think it would be good for us all to get together and celebrate."

"OK. Yeah."

"You're so agreeable today."

Lexie rolled her eyes. "Agreeable is my usual resting state; you just have a habit of bringing out my bad side."

He opened his mouth and the glint in his eye made her hold up a finger.

"Don't." But a smile pulled at her lips despite herself—the problem was, she liked this side of him.

"OK, so at the Christmas party, I was thinking…Maybe we could do your wish jar."

"What?"

"Well not your wish jar, but you know, the idea."

Lexie frowned and folded her arms.

"I just thought, it's your company too now, and it would be like a way of bringing in a tradition of yours and…" He trailed off. "You hate it."

Lexie tried to smooth out her expression. "No. Sorry, no. It's just…Won't people think it's kind of silly?"

"I think, after everything that's happened—losing Richard after only just pulling it all back after the last few years…" He shrugged. "I just thought we could do with some hope. But I can see you overthinking this."

"You can see me overthinking?"

"You get a crease…" He reached out, and despite herself her body tensed in anticipation of him touching her. But he didn't quite trace the line between her eyebrows. And really, she should probably work on making her expressions less easy to read.

She batted his hand away. "You do remember the part about me putting wishes in there to let them go, right?"

"Yeah, well, about that. We'll probably aim to have wishes in there that people think they can make come true."

Lexie sat back against her chair. "Are you criticizing my wish jar?"

Theo sat back too, mimicking her pose. "I'm only saying, maybe by ‘setting them free'—your words—you are hiding from what you want, making it so that you don't have to hope for things."

"You are criticizing it!"

He gave one of his too-casual shrugs. "Just seems like you might be using it wrong."

"It's my wish jar. How can I be wrong about how I use it?"

He crooked one eyebrow at her in answer and she felt a surge of annoyance.

The waiter came, cleared their plates, and Lexie thanked him, then turned her attention to the people walking past, laughing and chatting in the sunlight.

"So you take it with you? The wish jar?"

She frowned, still not looking at him.

"Everywhere you go, you take it with you?" he prompted.

She spared him a brief glance. "Haven't been able to kick the habit."

She didn't really know why she'd kept it up all these years. It had always been something consistent, she supposed, something that made her feel like it was Christmas—and something that made her think of her childhood home. She could still remember the year she'd first started the tradition, with her mum sitting next to her, cross-legged on the living-room floor. It was one of those memories that was a little hazy, and it was hard to be sure if even the parts that stuck out in stark focus were real, or if they had been layered with other people's stories, making her think she remembered.

She could remember finishing the wish jar—sticking gems to it that had then fallen off, over the years, and running into the kitchen, to show her dad.

That is the best wish jar I think I've seen. There's no chance the wishes won't come true if you put them in that.

Lexie had looked at the jar in her hand, wanting to believe but also a little suspicious. How can they come true? I made it, and I'm not magic.

He had put one arm around her and winked. She could still remember the faint smell of tobacco and mint. It's the act of making it, Little Lex. It becomes magic. And maybe the wishes won't come true right away, maybe not the same year you put them in the jar, but one day, if you want the wish hard enough, it will come true.

But she'd wished, year after year, for her dad to come back, for him to pick her, for things to go back to when it was the three of them—and it had never come true.

"You have a favorite place you've been to?"

Lexie blinked at Theo. "Ah…"

"Or a favorite place you spent Christmas?"

"I don't know. They are kind of all my favorite, while I'm there." But she could tell he was trying to change the subject away from the wish jar—probably picking up on her annoyance at him. So she relented. "I actually spent Christmas in Australia one year. It was right after university, and I had no idea what to do, so I decided to go there. You can get a work visa for a year, as long as you don't stay longer than six months in one job, and that sounded perfect. I got a job as a waitress, made a load of friends." Friends she didn't really speak to anymore, because time and distance had pulled them apart. "Anyway, we all spent Christmas on the beach. I was on the Gold Coast—it's in Queensland—and I used to get up early every day to watch the sunrise. I'm not really a morning person, but it's impossible not to be a morning person there. So we got up—a bunch of us who were either traveling or were living away from family—and we all went to the beach and had a barbecue on Christmas Day. It was so cool."

"I always wanted to go to Australia," Theo said. "But my moving around tended to be from city to city in the UK, because I was too useless to save up any money or properly apply for jobs abroad." She noticed how harsh he was on himself, but decided not to comment as he asked her another question. "What's the longest you've stayed in one place?"

"Ah, since university? A year, I think." She felt self-conscious about admitting that, even if he wasn't doing what people usually did—remarking that it must be hard to build a life that way, or making fake gushing, admiring noises. "I like it," she added, on the defensive.

"Yeah, I can see that."

She wasn't sure what to do with that, so she deflected. "What about you? You said you moved around a lot?"

"Yeah. Mainly because I couldn't get a job I thought I was any good at and I made things difficult for the poor people employing me as a result."

"Troublemaker?"

He grinned. "Totally." Then his expression evened out a bit as he looked over her head to the street beyond. "When I moved to Bath, I figured it would be the same thing. But because of Richard, here I am, five years later. It sometimes feels bizarre—but somewhere along the line, this place has ended up feeling like home, you know?"

She nodded—though she wasn't sure she totally did know. Home was wherever she was at the time, and she'd gotten good at that. But sometimes it felt exhausting. "And you've been in the flat all that time?"

"Not at first. I was in a shared house for a bit, before Richard and I worked out a deal where I could rent it. It's temporary," he said, bringing his attention back to her. "I wasn't trying to, like, leech off your dad or anything. I'm saving to buy a house—which really does make me sound boring compared to you."

Lexie smiled slightly. "?‘Boring' is not a word I'd use to describe you." She studied him for a moment. "What was it that made you stick around?"

"Honestly? I think I'd been looking for a reason to stick somewhere. But I was too, you know…scared, to stay put—moving around means you don't let anyone down."

Lexie nodded, and she felt a little relieved—because that wasn't the same for her.

"So Richard, him believing in me and making me see that I wasn't letting him down—it gave me what I needed to stay put. And because of that, I figured out I liked the job. I get to travel, get paid to do it. And I like finding holidays for people, like building the itineraries, discovering new things."

She kept nodding, not wanting to admit that she liked that part of it, too.

"Like Iceland—if we can get out there this year, I reckon it's going to be pretty epic, and it's kind of unbelievable that that's my job, you know?"

She registered the "we" and was unsure if he meant the general "we" or if he was referring to her, specifically. Something tightened in her stomach, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Because he might want to spend time with her there? Or because, even if she did go to Iceland with him, it was only a matter of time before the "we" was obsolete.

"You've got your overthinking face on again."

"No, it's just…" She didn't want to admit what she'd really been thinking. "Iceland. It's…We had this tradition." And she explained about their family holidays, about spending Christmas in a different place each year. About how they were supposed to go to Iceland the year Richard left. And how now, she couldn't help the thought that he'd been taking the family tradition she'd loved, and the holiday she'd been so excited to go on, and using it to make money.

I promise I'll take you there one day, Little Lex. She remembered him saying that, when she'd cried at the fact that he was leaving. She wasn't really crying about the holiday, of course, but he'd latched on to that—perhaps because it was an easier promise. But it was still a promise he'd broken, in the end.

Theo let her talk, listening. And when she finished, he just said, "I'll go in and pay."

"I'll pay my half," Lexie said immediately, but he waved it away.

"We'll put it on the company. We talked about work, didn't we?"

They walked back to the office, the big Georgian buildings seeming to bask in the sun. "You could look at it a different way," Theo said conversationally, and Lexie glanced at him. "You could say that he was trying to treasure something—to honor you and your family tradition. And to me, there are two things that suggest that he was thinking of you, the whole time."

Lexie frowned, and he elaborated.

"Iceland and Madrid, for one. He never did anything in Madrid, and I was wondering about that, until you told me about the trip he took Rachel on. He let you down. It was a dickish thing to do, and I can't even imagine how it must have felt. But he didn't want to do Madrid with the company—and I can't help wondering if that's the reason why."

"But you were planning Iceland," Lexie pointed out.

"Yeah, but he wouldn't work with me to get it off the ground. It was like he was waiting for something. Maybe he was waiting for you."

Lexie frowned. "What's the other thing?"

He gave her a look. "I'm waiting for you to cotton on to that one."

She rolled her eyes. Then she sighed. "I think that's looking at things with rose-tinted glasses."

"Our choice how to look at things, though, isn't it?"

They were quiet for a minute or so, and then as they turned onto the street where the office was, Lexie spoke again. "Fine, we can do the wish jar at the party. Even though people will think it's stupid."

"Great. You can decorate it."

It made her laugh, and he smiled.

When they got back to the office, he held the door open, but stopped her just as she was about to step inside. "Oh, and Lex?" His voice was quiet enough that he couldn't be overheard—and with just enough edge that it made her skin tingle. "Just for the record…I doubt very much that it was just a one-time thing."