A Season for Second Chances(84)

“She’s great,” said John. “Up to her eyes in mud and newts most of the time, but that’s how she likes it.”

“She’s helping to preserve the planet,” said Gemma with her sweet smile. “Thank goodness for people like Celeste. So, how come you’re staying up at the pub?”

“Because I didn’t think Annie would appreciate me sleeping in her living room on the air bed.”

Gemma laughed.

“Oh, of course, I forgot, you always stay here, don’t you? Poor John, you’ve been evicted.”

“Poor John nothing!” Annie called over; she slipped the piece of paper containing her offer for Saltwater Nook under the cup and slid the cup and saucer along the counter for Gemma to pass to him. “He’d evict me given half the chance.”

“There’s still time,” said John.

“On what grounds?” Annie asked, mock affronted.

“Property destruction,” said John.

“Fair point,” said Annie. “When are you going to paint my ceiling anyway?”

John smiled.

“I can come down early next week if you’d like; I’m pretty booked up with work for the next few days.”

“Well, it’ll just have to do, won’t it,” said Annie. “Don’t you just hate dodgy landlords?” she said to Gemma, who rolled her eyes.

Annie’s heart was in her mouth as she saw John clock the piece of paper, watched his expression change. He didn’t open it but tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and settled down to read the paper. The tension was infuriating, exciting, and terrifying. Annie hadn’t felt this nervous since picking up her A-level results. You’ll just have to wait, she told her wildly beating heart as she busied herself and tried to act like her hopes for the future weren’t nestling in a sexy architect’s jeans.





Chapter 65



It was November 24 and early enough that the promenade was still sparkling with frost when Annie took her walk that morning. The air smelled crisp, and the sea looked sluggish with cold. She felt buoyant as she walked. Today she and Gemma were going to decorate the café for Christmas, and Annie couldn’t wait to get started.

Max was waiting on the porch when she got back. The spring in her step suffered a puncture.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Annie said, walking straight past him to the front of the café.

“My phone wasn’t working.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ve unlocked the accounts.”

Annie felt a sudden rush of relief. The hundred and fifty pounds it had cost her to have her solicitor send Max a letter was worth every penny.

“About bloody time,” she said. He would be expecting a thank-you, but she wasn’t going to give him one.

Her relief was leapfrogged by worry that Max might have emptied the accounts.

“I take it you haven’t removed all the funds?” she asked.

“Of course I haven’t! What do you take me for?”

“Do you actually want an answer to that question?”

Max was following her like an obedient Labrador, stopping beside her as she opened each of the shutters on the windows.

“We need to talk about Christmas.”

“What about Christmas?”

The door to the café was sticky, and she had to wiggle the key and push hard against the wood at the same time to get it open.

“I want us to have one last family Christmas together,” said Max. “You, me, and the boys.”

“Max, I can’t even think about what I’ll be doing for Christmas right now.” The door gave and Annie stumbled inside, Max on her heels.

“Well, you should, it’ll be here before you know it. Oh, this is nice!” he said, distracted by the café. “I’ve not been inside before. It’s a bit kitsch for my tastes, but . . .”

“I really don’t care for your tastes anymore, Max,” said Annie absently, as she began pulling the chairs down from the tables.

“Give me one last Christmas, Annie. Please! You’ve lost your faith in me, and I completely understand why. But I haven’t given up on you. There’s not another woman like you.”

“What about Ellie?”

“I told you, that’s over. She’s history; you’re my future.”

“For fuck’s sake, Max, where do you get these lines? Have you got shares in a fortune cookie factory?”

“I can’t stop thinking about that Sunday, you and me . . .”

“Try.”

“We were so hot. It was like we were kids again; remember when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other?”

“If you recall, Max, that Sunday ended with me asking for a divorce and half of all our assets.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Well?”

“Just say you’ll think about Christmas,” said Max.

“I’ll think about Christmas if you agree to get a solicitor.”

Max smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Annie repressed a shudder.

“Have a good day,” he said.

He headed out for his car, leaving Annie feeling like she needed another shower. Still, at least she could get to her money now. Getting him to agree to her financial terms was going to be a whole other battle. And she was still waiting for John’s verdict on her offer.