Chapter 7
S itting in a swivelling office chair, Conrad sipped his morning coffee, the bitterness invigorating him as he stared at the final notice letter. The rising sun cast a muted glow through the mist that hung over the orchard behind the cottage. The distant shriek of a bird echoed through the quiet morning.
He glanced at the wall, covered in photos of happy memories at each of his inns, wondering how many he’d have to sell to stay afloat. How many people would he have to let go? He had already cut back their hours to keep everyone employed, but the bank’s deadline loomed, and the pressure was mounting.
Massaging his neck, Conrad shifted his gaze to the bundle of cream-textured papers on his desk. The rough finish made his heart bleed. Giving away the cottage to save the love of his life—his pubs—was a necessity. But would it be enough? Would Louise keep her end of the bargain? After last night’s encounter, there was no way of telling if she would.
The alternative was even worse. Those venture capitalist vultures would provide the money, but with a 60% stake, they would make the decisions. It would no longer be his business, and he knew they would expect him to reduce the costs, which to them would mean firing even more people.
For him, this wasn’t a solution. These people were like family; heck, he had grown up with some of them. There must be a way to make Louise stay for long enough. A month was what he needed. Long thirty days.
The faint whine of an electric car and the sound of a door shutting outside signalled Colton’s arrival. 9 a.m. Conrad sprung up to his feet, and in two strides, he exited his study. Closing the door behind him, he strolled through a short corridor, decorated with nothing but a few black and white photographs of his grandparents, and entered the kitchen.
The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and cinnamon reached Conrad’s nose even before his eyes spotted a plate of warm croissants, pastries, and bread rolls from the local bakery.
Colton, wearing a casual jacket and jeans, folded a paper bag. “Figured a sweet breakfast wouldn’t hurt.” He gestured to the spread. “How’s the lady?”
Conrad shook his head, recounting the previous night’s awkward moments. “After last night, I doubt any pastry in the world would make it better.”
“Last night?” Colton placed a white mug under the coffee machine spout and pressed the button.
Conrad ruffled his hair and shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
Colton raised his eyebrows, but Conrad only waved his hand.
“So, what’s the plan?” his driver asked.
Conrad opened his mouth to answer when his wife appeared in the doorway, her hair tousled and her eyes dreamy. She walked with care, favouring her injured ankle. Seeing her like this, Conrad’s heart skipped a beat. If he could wake up to that sight every morning, he’d be a lucky man.
“Good morning, how’s your ankle?”
“Better, thanks. The ice helped.” She stopped in front of him with her moist lips slightly apart.
The perfect makeup from yesterday had vanished, revealing a face sprinkled with freckles that stood out against her paler skin. Her natural beauty was striking, with her features sharper and a quiet confidence radiating from her half smile. Conrad found himself drawn to this unguarded version of her—real and effortlessly captivating.
“So, will I get one, or will you just stand here?”
Blinking, Conrad looked around for something to do and grabbed a dessert plate. “Do you fancy a pastry? Or, I could make you eggs?” He opened the fridge, where only a jar of marmalade, leftover pizza, and a box of eggs awaited.
Colton intervened. “I’ll get it, Ms Louise. How strong do you like it?”
“One shot, please.”
She settled into a wooden chair with a blue cushion and reached for a chocolate twist—no mention of last night’s events. Like nothing ever happened. It worked for him.
Colton handed Louise a cup of coffee. “Milk?”
She nodded, and his driver poured whole milk from a canister that stood on the counter next to the coffee machine. Conrad shook his head in amazement. What would he do without Colton? He thought of everything and was always there to help. More like a father than an employee. Well, he had started working for the family two years before Conrad had been born and had been the only constant presence in Conrad’s entire life.
Conrad would sell his kidney before he would let the old man go. Well, maybe not his kidney, but he would certainly do anything in his power to ensure his faithful assistant kept his job.
The sun was finally breaking through the morning mist, casting a hopeful circle of light in the middle of the room.
“So, what’s the plan for today, Mr Conrad?” His chauffeur straightened his cap.
“Good question.” Conrad bit into a crunchy croissant, the almond custard melting in his mouth. “Well, normally on Sunday, we’d visit the inns, check on things, and speak with the guys on the floor.”
Licking the custard off his lips, he squinted, looking at his wife holding a bread roll in her slim fingers and covering it with a thick layer of butter. A woman who could enjoy little pleasures in life—definitely a kindred spirit. If only he could make her see the potential in their marriage.
A gold band shimmered on her finger. She was still wearing the ring.
Good sign.
Conrad touched his finger, where he wore his own band of cold, polished metal.
“We could grab brunch at one of them if you’re up for it, Louise.” He gestured at her ankle. “I’d like to introduce you to the staff since you’re the owner now, too.”
She glanced at him, her eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty.
“And then maybe we could have a chat about going away for our honeymoon if you’re still interested?” Conrad suggested, trying to ease her apprehension.
Her eyes widened. “I don’t have any change of clothes.”
“We could swing by your apartment.” She gasped, and Conrad creased his forehead. What was wrong with that question? “Or maybe you fancy something new?”
A glint of interest appeared in her eyes, and she tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“New life, new wardrobe,” Conrad laughed. “Bath has great shops. And we definitely need to do some grocery shopping on the way back.”
His wife bit on her lip and took another sip of the coffee. “Alright then. I’m going to get ready.” She slid off her chair. “Would we return here afterwards or stay in your house in Bath?” she asked.
An empty posh mansion in Bath. A house he had bought as Elisabeth had wanted to be close to where life was happening, as she liked to say. But Elisabeth was long gone, dropping him like an old hat out of fashion. He had never liked that house. Most of it belonged to the bank anyway, especially with him constantly falling behind on the payments.
“Where would you prefer?”
“Here? I like this place.”
You and me both.
He nodded and grinned when a faint smile appeared on her face before she retreated to her room.
Colton scratched his chin. “Taking her to the inns. Is that wise?” He leaned toward Conrad and lowered his voice, concern in his tone. “What if someone mentions the trouble? What if she finds out her money isn’t for the new desirable location but to rescue a debt-ridden business teetering on the brink of collapse?”
Conrad shrugged. “Let’s hope she won’t.”
***
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T he Tesla hummed along the country road, flanked by vibrant green fields. Colton focused on the road, navigated through twists and turns, tapping the steering wheel to a catchy indie tune playing on the radio.
The morning mist had cleared, and the sun broke through the clouds, casting dancing shadows on the windshield. A fresh scent of damp earth and wildflowers floated in through the open windows.
Conrad cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “About last night ... I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t expect you to leave the room at the same time.”
His wife waved her hand, smiling, her dimples appearing. “It’s alright. I overreacted. You caught me off guard.”
“No, no, it’s my fault.” He rubbed his neck. “I’m not used to having guests.”
“Guests?” Louise raised an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “We’re married now, remember?”
“Right, right, we’re family now,” Conrad stuttered. “But you know what I mean.”
His wife leaned in, a teasing glint in her eye. “I’m sure there must have been women in your life before?”
“There might have been.” His tone was light, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. “But none quite like you.” Conrad took her hand and bowed dramatically, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. She chuckled, and the scent of her perfume—citrus and jasmine—drifted up to him, both intoxicating and soothing.
Louise cocked her head. “Well, I did find a white bathrobe in the bathroom and some women’s running clothes in the closet. So, at least one woman treated this place as her home.”
Conrad shifted uneasily in his seat, the leather creaking under him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re avoiding the answer,” she countered, squinting at him.
She was right. Conrad didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it was never a good idea to discuss an ex with any woman, as they all preferred to believe they were the one.
“So?” she asked, her eyebrows raised playfully.
“So what?”
“Are you going to tell me about her?”
“Just after you tell me about your last bloke.” Conrad grinned.
A shadow crossed Louise’s face, and her voice lowered. “What do you know about my ex-boyfriend?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” Conrad raised his hands in surrender. “It was just a joke. A bad one, apparently. Let’s change the subject.”
Eager to steer the conversation elsewhere, Conrad handed his wife a small box wrapped in decorative paper. “Here, I got you something.”
She turned the box over in her hands. “What is it?”
“Open it up.”
She carefully unwrapped the gift to reveal an old-fashioned Leica 35 mm film camera. Her forehead creased as she ran her fingers over the worn metal casing.
“I thought you might like it.” His voice tinged with uncertainty. “The film’s already loaded, and there are a few extra rolls in the box in case you run out.”
He could have sold it on eBay and earned a decent coin, but it had seemed like an ideal gift for an amateur photographer. At least, it had seemed so at the time, but not so much now, as her expression stayed puzzled.
“Bad choice?”
“Oh, no.” A dimpled smile lit up her face as she looked up at him. “It’s perfect, but you shouldn’t have.” She cradled the camera as if it were a fragile treasure.
“Anything for my wife.” A wide grin cracked his face. “But full disclosure, it’s not new. It belonged to my father. I thought you two would have a lot in common.”
“Would have?” Louise’s smile faded, her brows furrowing with concern.
Conrad’s expression turned sombre. “Yes, my parents died in an accident.”
His wife gasped, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay.” Conrad touched her hand gently. “It was almost thirty years ago.”
“Thirty years?” Her eyes opened in shock. “You were only sixteen ... ”
Conrad nodded. “Fifteen to be exact. I thought your parents told you.”
“No, they didn’t.” Louise shook her head and looked down at the camera in her hands. “They didn’t tell me much about anything,” she added with bitterness in her voice.
When she lifted her head, a shadow seemed to hang over her features, casting her once radiant smile into the depths of melancholy.
“I’m truly sorry, it must have been horrible.” The corners of her lips turned upward in a half smile. “And thank you for the camera. It’s a real gem.”
The intimacy of the moment hung between them as their fingers brushed against one another. Louise leaned in, her emerald eyes captivating him. The scent of her perfume heightened his senses, and his heart raced. Holding his breath, Conrad moved closer to her, feeling a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Then her lips brushed his cheek, and she stroked his shoulder in a reassuring gesture before pulling away.
Idiot. What did you expect? She pities you.
***
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T he Tesla pulled to a stop in an unnamed alleyway near the Kennet and Avon Canal, the back of an old building looming ahead. Conrad flashed a boyish grin at Annie.
What is he up to now? Annie’s curiosity was tinged with scepticism.
“This is my favourite pub, but don’t tell the others,” he said, helping her out of the car. “It was my first purchase when I inherited the chain.”
Annie stepped out, taking in the sight of the unimpressive building. The weathered sign for The Canal Inn hung crookedly from a stone wall covered in moss and ivy.
This is his favourite?
The place seemed more like a forgotten relic than a beloved destination. It was a stark contrast to the picturesque countryside inn they had visited earlier, which had exuded a welcoming warmth.
If I passed this on my own, I’d probably keep walking.
“Well, that’ll probably change once you use my marriage fund to purchase that country club. My parents couldn’t stop raving about it.”
Conrad’s eyes seemed to grow heavier. “Yes, it’s amazing,” he sighed and shook his head as if it was causing him a headache. “But until then, let me present to you the jewel in my crown.”
He playfully nudged her toward the side of the building, and as they rounded the corner, Annie’s mouth fell open in awe. Simple wooden tables shaded by garlands of spring flowers and awnings sat next to the canal, where swans and ducklings glided through the calm waters.
Conrad grinned at her reaction. “How about we have that brunch here before going clothes shopping?”
She nodded, still taking in the charming scene. They stepped inside the pub, which resembled the cosy interior of a narrow boat. Conrad led her to the bar to meet the staff.
He draped an arm around her shoulder. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my wife, Louise.” The staff clapped and smiled warmly, offering their congratulations on the marriage.
Annie blushed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pride. But mostly embarrassment. “It’s nice to meet you all.”
Conrad glanced outside and took her hand. “Let’s eat outdoors, shall we?”
She nodded, and he looked back at one of the crew members. “Bring us two specials, please.”
“Of course, Mr Brenman,” a young lad replied, already bustling away to prepare their order.
Annie started to object, but Conrad pulled her hand and guided her outside to a table near the family of ducklings.
She tugged on his sleeve. “Wait, what did you order?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” He flashed a smile at her. “Only the best for my wife.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit.
Annie furrowed her eyebrows. “I like to choose my meals.”
Conrad waved his hand dismissively, brushing off her concern. “This is your first time here, so I want you to have the best experience. You won’t regret it, trust me.”
Her jaw tightened. This isn’t about the meal but about you deciding for me.
Annie felt the tension build, but before she could voice her thoughts, he pointed at the canal lock. “Look, it’s opening!”
While she watched the lock gates ajar, Conrad’s phone vibrated, catching his attention. He looked apologetically at her.
“Sorry, Lou, I have to take this call. It won’t take long, I promise.” He got up from his chair, grabbing the phone.
Annie waved him off with a reassuring smile. “No problem. Go ahead, I’ll be here enjoying the view.”
He flashed her a grateful smile before striding toward the building and out of her sight.
A narrowboat navigated into the lock and gently pulled to one side, leaving a space for a dinghy. Annie was waiting for the water to lift the boats when a waitress arrived with their food. The smell of a sizzling steak and rosemary made her mouth water. She stared at an enormous plate filled to the brim with a 12-inch piece of meat, rosemary fries, and a double portion of mixed salad.
Annie had to admit it was a superb choice, and she wouldn’t pick any better. The server placed a bucket with napkins and cutlery in the middle of the table and set a glass of red wine in front of her.
“I’m sorry, I’d prefer sparkling water, please.”
“Not a problem,” the waitress replied with a warm smile. “Anything for the woman who saved the pub. We were really worried, but Mr Brenman said it’ll all be okay now.”
Saved the pub?
Annie scratched her chin as the server walked away, leaving her with more questions than answers.
The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow on the water, and a gentle breeze rustled the ducklings’ feathers, carrying the mingling scents of blossoming flowers and her delicious meal. Everything looked perfect—almost too perfect, like a scene crafted to hide something lurking beneath the surface.
Her gaze drifted back to Conrad. His face appeared tense as he spoke on the phone, but the moment he noticed her watching, his expression softened into a smile.
How much of this is real? The tranquillity of the scene only seemed to emphasise the tension coiled inside her, a sense that she was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
“What have I got myself into?” she murmured as an unexpected shiver ran down her spine.
***
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A nnie trotted behind Conrad as they navigated the bustling streets of the shopping centre, sunlight dappling the pavement and a light breeze carrying the scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and curry. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, confidently weaving through the Sunday crowd, dodging pedestrians and outdoor coffee shop tables.
“Conrad, slow down!” Her voice was muffled by a child’s scream and the pneumatic noise of a bus door opening. She tugged on his hand, her cheeks flushed from keeping up with his pace.
“Can’t keep up?” he asked with a glint in his eyes.
“My ankle still hurts, you know.”
He gasped and stopped. “So sorry. Totally forgot as you seem to be doing so well.”
To be fair, her ankle seemed to have healed well. It looked like the ice pack had done its job, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Besides, I thought we came here to shop, not run a marathon!” Her words got stressed by a rattling trolley on the cobblestones.
Conrad reduced his pace to a snail, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “Almost there.”
“Where?” she uttered, still out of breath.
His grin widened, but he said nothing.
She caught a glimpse of an art coffee place as they zoomed by. “Can you at least give me a hint about where we’re going?”
“Trust me. You’ll love it.”
Annie’s forehead creased, scanning the area filled with typical high street boutiques. Where on earth was he taking her? They had already passed an entrance to the shopping mall with all the usual brands she loved to shop for, and it seemed the street had nothing but art, coffee, and solicitors’ offices to offer.
Suddenly, he turned on his heel and led her into a small, inconspicuous shop tucked next to a modern gallery. As they entered, plush carpets, armchairs, and a reception desk greeted them. A round, bald man wearing an old-fashioned waistcoat and bow tie rushed to them.
“Welcome, welcome. Come inside. We’ve been expecting you.” A toothy smile spread across his clean-shaven, shiny face. “How are you today, Mr Brenman?” He bowed to Conrad before turning to Annie. “Mrs Brenman? My name is Robert Klatz, and I’ll be your personal shopper today.”
He gestured toward the interior side door and followed them into a room lined with mirrors, changing rooms, and additional seating. Two young, tall, and slim women—looking as though they had stepped straight out of a fashion catalogue—stood waiting, tape measures in hand.
While Annie scanned her surroundings, the women began taking her measurements, and Mr Klatz poured tea for everyone. She glanced at Conrad, who seemed to enjoy the spectacle.
“Milk?” Mr Klatz offered her a delicate china cup, which she gripped with both hands, anxious about dropping it. She nodded, and he topped up her tea with milk from an equally delicate jug. As she sipped her drink, the assistants finished taking her measurements—including her feet—and presented the scribbled results to Annie: size 8-10, regular length, and shoe size 4. When she nodded, both women swiftly departed through another door.
“What’s going on? Where did they go?”
As much as she enjoyed surprises, this one felt like something out of Alice in Wonderland . There was something about Mr Klatz that reminded her of the rabbit.
“They’ll be back, relax.” Conrad took her arm and guided her to a velvety burgundy armchair beside a tall mahogany side table. She placed her cup down and lowered herself into the cushioned seat, running her fingers over the silky-smooth fabric. It was so soft and elegant—clearly worth a fortune, but not her style.
The women returned, pushing trolleys laden with clothes and boxes of shoes, ranging from casual, cosy outfits to elegant evening gowns in every style and colour.
Mr Klatz squinted at Annie.
“Would you be a dear and turn around for me, please?”
Sounding like a jovial uncle, Mr Klatz straightened his bow tie, watching her twirl like a little girl. With a thankful nod, he began selecting pieces from the casual rack.
“Try these on first, my dear. Soft fabrics for a cosy evening by the fireplace or a leisurely stroll in the countryside.”
Still dazed, Annie let the man nudge her toward the changing room, where he offloaded the hangers on the rail and closed the curtain behind him.
As if an invisible puppet master were manipulating her arms and hands, Annie tried on one outfit after another. For a man, he had an impeccable eye. The clothes hugged her body like a second skin, accentuating her slim waist while leaving enough space for her hips. She glanced at her reflection. The colours complemented her natural complexion, now that she had already ditched Louise’s makeup.
That morning, the smell of fresh coffee had lured her out of her room before she had fully woken up. Her brain had still been sluggish, and she had forgotten about the makeup—or the lack of it. By the time she remembered the need for her disguise, it had already been too late. Conrad had seen her. For a long moment, she had been certain he had seen through the charade, as he had stared at her without blinking.
As the tension reached an unbearable level, she had made that stupid joke about not being served a coffee, and Colton had stepped in while Conrad had offered breakfast. For some odd reason, neither of them had commented about her face looking so different and, frankly, older. So, now she could be herself, at least in the way she looked.
Of all the clothes she had tried on, Annie especially loved a jumper in shades of orange that made her eyes shimmer. Paired with warm brown leggings, it made a perfect outfit for a cosy evening indoors.
A gasp escaped her mouth when she checked the price tag. She could get several jumpers for that price in her usual shopping places.
“Do you need help, Mrs Brenman? A different size, perhaps?” A female voice asked.
“I’m fine, thank you. They fit pretty well.”
Too well. Annie checked the price again, stroking the soft fabric, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. It looked great. With a heavy sigh, she took it off. There was no point shopping here, not with these prices, even if the fabric was as fluffy as a teddy bear.
When she emerged with clothes hanging off her arm, Mr Klatz and his assistants waited with two dozen more for her to try on. Not only did she not need that many, but she certainly had no money to pay for even one piece, let alone all of them.
“Thank you for all of this. Those are lovely clothes, but I really don’t need any of them.”
Conrad raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said you needed some clothes?” He gestured toward the pile in her arms.
She leaned toward him. “I did, but not here.”
“Why? Don’t you like these?”
“Have you seen the price tags?” Her voice was merely a whisper.
Conrad smirked. “Of course, sweetheart. Why do you think I brought you here?” He gave a bow. “Consider it a gift from your loving husband.”
Was he mocking her? That she thought these clothes were too expensive? But they were. Who would want to spend a week’s salary on a jumper? Even if it complimented her eyes so well.
He turned toward Mr Klatz. “My wife said you picked well, Mr Klatz. We’ll take all of these.” One of the ladies freed Annie’s arms, and before she could object, Conrad selected a few more evening dresses from the gown rack and placed them in her arms. “Try these as well.”
Annie took a deep breath as the room seemed closing on her. “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s too much.”
He dismissed her with a wave of a hand, adding a few more to her load.
A bitter taste filled her mouth. Even if it wasn’t her money, she could still remember how a lavish lifestyle had drained her resources in the blink of an eye when she had let her ex-husband Liam splash it on anything he had laid his eyes on.
“Thank you, but no. I’m not a princess or a character from Pretty Woman.” She pursed her lips.
“Fine.” Conrad rolled his eyes as if she were the one making things awkward. “But at least take a dress for our dinner tonight. We’re going to an exquisite restaurant.”
Annie glanced at the red dress he pointed to, her heart softening. It was beautiful and would go perfectly with her wedding shoes.
She sucked air through her teeth. He was rich, wasn’t he? He could afford this. It was tempting to accept the gift, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all part of his game to get his hands on her marriage fund—or rather, Louise’s.
Her eyebrows knitted together, she pushed back. “I’ll take the sweater, leggings, and a set of underwear. That’s it.” Annie reached for her card—she would find a way to return them later.
Conrad brushed her hand with the card aside. “Put it on my tab, please, Mr Klatz.” He reached for that red dress. “And we’ll take this one too. Darling, I can’t take you to that restaurant in leggings and your shirt.”
Annie’s face flushed with anger. She pointed at the dress, her finger shaking. “Do what you want, but I won’t wear that dress, and I’m not going to that restaurant either!”
She stormed toward the shop exit, refusing to be treated like a possession. This was worse than anything she had gone through with Darren. What was wrong with men?
For Liam, she had been nothing but an ATM. Darren had disguised his obsession with controlling her—and her every thought—behind fake protectiveness. And now this. She had no name for it. A peacock showing off his feathers? Did he want her to clap or bow to him? Or what? Annie couldn’t stop shaking. Her hands had formed tight fists, her nails digging into the soft tissue of her palms.
The moment she stepped outside, she bumped into Colton.
“I’m so sorry, Ms Louise. I didn’t see you coming out.”
His sincerity hushed that barrage of thoughts. He was an innocent bystander and, so far, had been nothing but helpful. She shook her head. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t look.”
She started breathing through her nose, trying to calm herself.
“Did you enjoy your shopping experience, Ms Louise?”
Annie clenched her teeth. “You have no idea,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, inspiration struck.
“Colton, could you drive me back to the cottage, please? Conrad has some important business to finish here, and he said he’ll catch up with us later.”
Colton hesitated for a moment, but then nodded in agreement, offering her his arm—at least one real gentleman with no hidden agenda.?