Chapter Five

Lexie took the coffee her mum offered her on the sofa, and readjusted the blanket so it covered her bare feet—the fire was on, but the room was still warming up. It was quiet in the living room, and Lexie took a minute to drink that in. There was something different about quiet on Christmas morning, a sense of anticipation. Even as an adult, even moving around every year, it was something she hadn't been able to shake. Outside, the sky was a pearly gray, waking up slowly, and inside her mum's cottage the Christmas lights on the tree flashed in a soothing rhythm.

"Happy Christmas, my love," her mum said, sitting down on the sofa next to her.

Lexie smiled. "Happy Christmas."

She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent Christmas at home. It must have been eight years ago now, while she was still at university. She felt an uncomfortable surge of guilt, even though she knew that her mum always had people to spend Christmas with. In recent years, they'd made sure to video call—and her mum was usually getting ready to go and spend Christmas with a friend. She had an endless number of friends, her mum. Over the years, the two of them had also formed a tradition—instead of buying presents for each other to open (one year a present her mum had sent to her had gotten lost at customs somewhere), they decided on an experience that they'd do together—each paying for the other. Last year it had been a cookery course, the year before it had been the spa. They'd already decided on this year's activity—an experience where you got to go and feed the meerkats at a local wildlife center—before Lexie had got the call about her dad. But Lexie still sometimes wondered if it made her a bad daughter, the fact that she was never around for Christmas Day itself.

"Who were you planning on spending Christmas with this year, Mum?" Lexie asked.

"Hmm? Oh just the usual, you know."

Lexie raised her eyebrows at the very vague answer, but her mum plowed on.

"I was thinking we'd have blinis for breakfast in a bit—that's what Kirsty, you know, Fran's mum, did last year for Christmas, and they are truly excellent with smoked salmon."

"Sounds good." Or it would have—if she had any confidence in her mum's cooking skills.

On the coffee table, Lexie's phone buzzed, and she leaned forward to look at the message. It was a group photo from her friends in Austria, all outside in the snow. It made her smile—made her feel like it was the right decision, to be flying back out there tomorrow. Everything was packed, ready to go. Well, nearly everything. She grimaced as she thought of the green canvas bag, still sitting at R&L Travel.

"Mum, I'm really sorry, but do you mind if I pop out? I'll be two hours, max."

"What on earth do you need to pop out for on Christmas Day?"

"I know, it's stupid. It's just that I forgot something in the office and if I don't get it now I'll be in a rush to make my flight tomorrow."

"You're going through with that, are you? You're definitely going back?"

"Yes," Lexie said firmly. Her decision was made, and nothing her mum could say would change that. Which her mum seemed to gather, because she didn't press the issue.

"All right. But don't be too long or all the sherry will have gone by the time you're back. I plan to crack it open any minute now."

Lexie laughed, then gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it."

—

When she got to the office, she let herself in with the key code that Ange had made her memorize. The whole city was eerily quiet—only a very few people out in the open—and the office had that same kind of spooky, empty feel. It was dark, but Lexie didn't switch on the lights—she felt the need to keep quiet and hidden.

She tiptoed to the back room and used the light on her phone to find her bag. She felt inside. There, next to her hairbrush, was her wish jar. She took it out of the bag, placing it on the desk next to Ange's photos, just to check it wasn't broken. She hadn't put a wish in this Christmas. It was only now that she realized. She'd left Austria in a hurry, and then things had been so messed up since she'd landed that she hadn't even thought of it. It gave her a slight pang, looking at all the folded-up pieces of paper inside. It was the first year she'd not done it. What would she wish for now? She closed her eyes, took a slow breath. She didn't have a clue.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a folder on the desk. Automatically she reached out and flipped it open, shining her torch to look. She knew immediately what she was looking at. Cutouts from magazines of people in steaming pools, and a photo of bright blue-green light flashing across a darkened sky.

Maybe we'll even see the northern lights, Little Lex, if we're really lucky.

Lexie slammed the folder shut and tried to shove her dad's voice out of her mind. But she couldn't quite block the memory of him telling her where they'd be spending Christmas that year, his face poker-straight as he listed destinations, trying to get her to guess which one it was.

"Iceland!" And she'd leaped into his arms, something she was starting to get too big for, and he'd swung her around the way he'd done when she was really little. She remembered theway he'd grinned at her, the way it had made his eyes, so like hers, crinkle at the corners.

She stared at the folder, a lump forming in her throat. She didn't remember him leaving. Didn't have one definitive memory of him storming out the house, never to come back, like you see in the movies. It had just seemed to her that he was always there, her dad who made jokes and took her on adventures through the woods on the weekends, and then he wasn't. And she'd never really understood it—no one had explained why, other than it just hadn't been working and of course he still loves you, Lexie.

The sound of the office door opening made Lexie jump. She lifted her phone torch to look toward the doorway and Theo moved out of the bright glare, his face mostly obscured by shadow.

"Any reason you're standing in the dark?" he asked, flicking on the office light. She lowered her phone, pushed back her hair self-consciously.

She frowned as she took him in. His stubble had grown a bit over the last two days, and he was wearing jeans and a casual jumper. "What are you doing here?"

That scarred eyebrow flicked up. He moved into the room, closer to her. "I live here, remember?"

She lifted her chin in the air. "You don't live here, in the actual office." But did that mean he was spending Christmas in the flat above, on his own? Though maybe he had someone up there, waiting for him.

"What are you doing here? Come to sabotage the place? Burn it all down?"

"What would be the point of that?"

"Well, you've made it perfectly clear you don't want any of this."

She folded her arms. "And why would I? Want this?"

"Interfering with some grand plan, is it? What was it you were doing, off babysitting some posh kids while they're on their skiing break?"

She felt her cheeks flush, even though she had nothing to be embarrassed about—he could think what he liked, it didn't make her choices any less valid. "As opposed to jumping on an old man's company so you can take it all on as your own idea?"

He looked at her for a moment, assessing her. Then he said quietly, "I would never portray it as if it were my idea." She frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "And your dad wasn't that old."

It was a punch to the gut, even as she tried to ignore it, and she dropped her hands to her sides. There was a flash of memory, coming from nowhere.

Do you have to be such a cliché, Richard? Sleeping with someone younger and prettier? You're too old for this shit—you need to grow up.

I'm forty-three, that's hardly old! And she's only a few years younger. It's not like…

Then her dad noticed her, hovering in the doorway, having come downstairs in the night for water. Hey, Little Lex! The smile he gave her was awkward. Do you need something to drink? Here, I'll—

I'll get it, her mum snapped. And her dad looked between them, then sighed, leaving the kitchen, running his hand across Lexie's shoulder as he did so.

Her mum was quiet as she got a glass down, filled it with water. But Lexie could see her lip trembling. So she went over and gave her a hug. I think you're pretty, Mummy.

Her mum wrapped her arms around Lexie, squeezing so tight it hurt, but Lexie didn't tell her that. Thank you, my darling.

She'd nearly forgotten moments like that—or had tried to, anyway. Moments like that were why she didn't like people arguing around her as an adult—why she tried to avoid conflict when she could. You didn't have to be a genius to work that out. Yet here she was, arguing away. Theo seemed to know just how to get under her skin.

Theo was watching her, a frown playing across his forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lexie cut him off. "Look, let's just—"

But she didn't finish, because her phone started ringing in her hand. Turning her back on Theo, she answered. "Hi, Mum."

"How are you getting on?"

"I'm coming back now."

"OK, just trying to decide whether to start the blinis."

"Oh, I can help you do that when I'm—"

"Nonsense, I'll get cracking." Then she laughed. "Cracking! Like the eggs!"

Despite herself, Lexie let out a little laugh too. "I'll be as quick as I can."

She turned back to Theo to see him standing there, holding her wish jar. "What's this?" he asked, his voice mildly curious.

"It's mine," she snapped. "That's what it is." And OK, she was trying not to argue, but you shouldn't go around just grabbing other people's private possessions, even if they are sitting out in the open. She went to take it, but he moved it out of reach. "Give it back."

His lips twisted into a smile. "I'll give it back if you tell me what it is."

"Seriously? What are you, ten?"

His smile grew a little lighter, and she wondered for a moment what his true smile looked like, and whether it would make his eyes flare like they did when he was angry.

She pushed her hair back impatiently. "It's a wish jar, OK?"

"A what?"

"It's where you…Never mind." It sounded stupid, saying it out loud. And it was none of his damn business, anyway.

He gave it back as promised, putting it on the desk, and she cleared her throat.

"Look. I've been thinking."

He sighed. "Here we go."

"You have no idea what I'm about to say."

"You don't want the company, right? It's all you've said since you first found out about it."

"You mean, since I first found out about it less than a week ago?" She took a breath. Stay calm, Lexie. "Anyway, not the point. You're right. I don't want it." Plain and simple language, that was the key.

"If you walk away, you get nothing."

" We get nothing."

He cocked his head. "You'd do it to spite me, would you?"

"Well, why not? You've been nothing but nasty to me since the moment we met."

"Or is it about spiting your dad?"

"Fuck you." OK, so much for calm. "I'm leaving. I don't want any of this. So go ahead, see how you do without me—maybe you'll find a workaround to the will." Though she knew, from talking to Fran, that that was highly unlikely.

She shoved the jar into her bag, hitched it on her shoulder, and made for the exit.

He stepped in front of her to block her path. "We need to talk about this. Figure out what to do."

"I just told you, I'm out."

"Yeah? Well, that doesn't actually solve anything, so I don't accept that."

"You can accept it or not, doesn't make it not true."

She tried to move past him, but he mirrored her like they were in some kind of stupid sports game.

"Get out of the way, Theo."

"Look, what if you didn't have to do anything?"

"What?"

"You clearly don't want any part of this—and OK, maybe I can't blame you for that."

She scoffed. "Seems an awful lot like you blame me anyway."

He took a slow breath, like he was praying for patience—like he was the one who needed patience in this scenario. "Regardless, what if you didn't have to do anything? Would you stick the year out then? Because I doubt very much there will be a workaround—your dad would have made sure of that—and I really don't want his company to go bust just because you…"

She glared at him. "Because I what, exactly?"

They were very close—close enough that she could smell him. Sandalwood and something muskier layered underneath it. He hadn't backed down at her glare, just kept his eyes level on hers. She could see the different colors, the way brown gave way to amber. She should step back. But she didn't want to be the one to back away, didn't want to look like she was uncomfortable around him. She brought a hand up to play with her loose curls—a nervous tic—and he followed the movement with his gaze. He frowned at her hand and she dropped it.

"Never mind," he said.

He eased back an inch, and she let loose a relieved breath.

"Look, I'll do the work. I already know how to do it. You can do whatever—go back to your ski chalet, hit the slopes. Whatever makes you happy. And just be a silent partner. Then at the end of the year, when we've made a profit, we…"

"Sell the company?"

He said nothing to that, just slid his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and waited. She really wanted to throw the offer back in his face. But she could do with the money. She had no savings, a ton of university debt. Moving from one job to another had lots of perks, but a steady income wasn't one of them.

"Maybe," she said eventually.

His shoulders relaxed, just a bit. "Maybe?"

"I'll think about it, OK? But right now my mum is drinking all the sherry without me and will soon be murdering some blinis."

He gave her a brief, searching look, as if checking for the honesty in her words, then nodded. "OK. Thank you."

Lexie hesitated as he stepped aside, giving her a clear run to the door. Thank you. She wasn't really sure what to do with that thanks. "Are you…? I mean, are you doing anything, today?"

She flushed as he gave her a look. She wasn't really sure where she'd been going with that. It had just occurred to her that it seemed like he was spending Christmas alone. But what was she going to say if he was? Do you want to come round for a glass of sherry and a burnt blini to talk about how great you think my dad was to the woman he left?

"I'm just hanging out here this morning."

Lexie bit her lip. It was a nonanswer, and she wasn't sure if it meant that he'd be spending Christmas here, in an office, on his own.

He gave her that infuriating one-eyebrow raise, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Don't worry about me—I've got plenty to be getting on with, and I've got plans later on. Don't you have to go and rescue some pancakes or something?"

She rolled her eyes. Clearly, he didn't want her sympathy, even if she'd been about to offer it. "OK, fine."

"Don't forget to think about it," he added, as she headed for the exit.

"I won't." She'd do little else now, probably. And OK, yes, maybe that meant point to Theo.

"And Lexie?" She turned back, and he gave her a small smile, which hinted at the fact that he could smile, if he really wanted to. "Happy Christmas."