Page 21 of A Winter Wish

She gritted her teeth, but they were at a stalemate. Neither of them could get out of this—they’d both been played. Lexie was going to have to have words with Ange—she didn’t appreciate being manipulated. She wouldn’t have agreed to come if she’d known Theo would be here—which Ange must have known. It felt like Ange was putting them in the same room and shutting the door with a “Play nice, children.” Then again, Ange hadn’t actually told her Theo wouldn’t be here, had she? And Lexie had been dumb enough not to ask.

“What time is lunch?” Lexie asked.

“In about an hour and a half.”

“Right. Well, I’ll just go up and get sorted, then.”

“I’ll wait down here, then.”

She frowned. “I’ve got to shower and change.”

He gestured toward the elevator. “By all means, take your time.”

She hesitated, then walked past him, rucksack over one shoulder, key card clutched in her hand, and jabbed the button on the elevator harder than strictly necessary. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him head into the bar area, his phone now pressed to his ear. “Hi, Ange. I think there’s something you might have forgotten to tell me.”

—

Her hotel room was gorgeous, the wall behind the huge king-size bed a dark sea blue, pristine white sheets, and polished wood floors to match the lobby. The best part, though, was the view—that and the fact that on the second floor, she had her very own balcony to step out onto, looking out across a long stretch of beach on the French Riviera, where the water glistened in the sunlight and green mountains stretched out behind the line of hotels. She’d have loved to stay out here and just breathe it all in, but it was probably best not to give Theo even more reason to be pissed off.

She showered and changed, taking her time to enjoy the fancy water jets. She should have thought better about what clothes to bring—she wished now she had something sleek and sophisticated to wear to lunch. She settled on jeans, pumps, and her go-to red jumper, then assessed herself in the mirror. The lighting in the bathroom was that dim, flattering kind, so by her estimation she looked perfectly fine. Still, she put on some mascara to make herself feel better, scrunched up her damp curls, then took a breath, bracing her hands on the porcelain sink. It was only a couple of days. She was here now: she might as well try to enjoy it—especially as she’d never been to this part of France before, let alone a lemon festival, of all things. She wouldn’t let Theo ruin her time here.

Her “make the most of it” attitude was put to the test, however, the moment she got to the lobby—and Theo wasn’t there. Nor was he in the bar area, moodily sipping whiskey or something. She felt her palms prick as she looked around. Why hadn’t she insisted Mike tell her the name of the restaurant? Why hadn’t she taken his phone number, for God’s sake? She got out her phone to see if there was an email from Theo explaining where he’d gone—but nothing.

“Excusez-moi?” Lexie looked up to see Simone smiling at her. “You are looking for your friend?” Lexie nodded—deciding that now was not the time to point out that he was not her friend. “He is in the garden.” Simone pointed to the back of the hotel, through the bar area and out the other side.

Lexie followed her directions into not so much a garden as a beautiful courtyard with cobblestones, small wooden tables, and towering green plants that gave it a tropical feeling. Theo was sitting in one corner, his face partly obscured in the shade from the nearest tree. There was an espresso cup in front of him and he was frowning as he tapped something out on his phone.

“You said you’d wait for me in the lobby,” she said as she walked over to him.

He didn’t even look up at her as he continued to write something. “I trusted in your problem-solving skills to be able to find me.”

She pulled her coat on over her jumper and rolled her shoulders. Do not engage, Lexie. “Right. Well, shall we go?”

He pressed a final button, shoved his phone into his coat pocket, and stood up, barely sparing her a glance before setting off and leaving her to scramble to keep up.

He walked them through the town, and though she’d only caught a fleeting glimpse of the lemon sculptures they were here to see, everything seemed fitting for a place known for its citrons. The buildings were a mixture of orange and yellow, with the occasional sunset pink, which made it feel warmer, somehow. The streets were narrow and there were a lot of tourists around, meaning they had to dodge past the ones stopping to window-shop or take photos.

After five minutes of walking in silence, Lexie was starting to feel awkward. She was usually good at this—small talk. She’d had to get good at it, because she moved around so much—there were always new people to get to know. But right now, she couldn’t think of what to say. What she really wanted to ask were questions about the company—about how things were looking, whether he was planning any changes. Whether the Iceland trip was going to be implemented this year, for instance. She opened her mouth a few times, on the verge of broaching the subject, but chickened out each time.

The fourth time she went to open her mouth, Theo gave her a look. “You know, I can hear your brain going, even if you don’t say anything out loud.”

She bit her lip. “I was going to ask about the company. Whether there’s anything I should know—any changes or big new trips or…anything,” she finished lamely. “But you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want to talk to me about any of that—so I was trying not to ask.”

He shot her that annoying raised-eyebrow look.

How had he gotten that scar? she wondered. No. She wasn’t wondering—she didn’t care one way or another.

“Given you made your lack of interest in anything your dad created perfectly clear from the outset and are literally counting down the days until you can be shot of the whole thing, you can see why I’d be reluctant to discuss it.”

“It isn’t…” She shook her head. “That’s beside the point. I need to know,” she insisted. “I need the money when this company sells.”

“Did we actually agree we’d sell the company?” he asked, his voice mild. “I can’t remember an explicit conversation about that.”

“What?!” she spluttered. “Are you kidding me right now? That is the whole reason I am even—”

“Here we are.” He came to a stop outside a rather shabby-looking building, nothing to distinguish it from the two deep yellow terraces on either side. But Theo seemed sure, opening the door and ushering Lexie inside. It was a small place—beyond the bar there seemed to be only one room, which was almost entirely taken up by a long table, covered in a white tablecloth, wineglasses glinting in the sunlight streaming through the high windows. It was nice enough, and the waiter who greeted them was friendly, but it didn’t seem like anything special—there was no grand view or stylish interior, as she would have expected from somewhere on a travel company’s itinerary.

“What is this place?” Lexie asked, without consciously making the decision to speak out loud.