Chapter Nine
THE ROOFTOP BAR of the fashionable boutique hotel boasted an exclusive clientele and stunning views of the Acropolis.
The menu was unapologetically Greek, and their table private, set on the corner of the terrace, with a concrete planter filled with spiky green plants separating them a little from the other diners.
In the background, there was a low hum of conversation and the soft strains of jazz music, the husky acoustic singing ringing with emotion.
She could imagine this place would be packed at night, filled with Athens’s elite, here to see and be seen.
On one level, it surprised her that Theo had brought her to a place like this.
Then again, a lot had changed in five years.
She didn’t really know that much about the man she’d married, which was the whole point of this lunch.
‘Your usual, sir?’
Annie blinked across at Theo, surprised by the waiter’s question. Evidently, Theo came here often enough to have a ‘usual’. With a date?
Of course with a date. She knew he’d hardly been a monk since they parted ways.
‘Would you like a cocktail?’ Theo asked Annie.
She glanced at the waiter, and nodded. ‘An Aperol, thanks.’
The waiter nodded once then left.
‘You come here often?’
‘It is close to the office.’
She frowned. ‘So you come for…work lunches?’
His smile was tight. ‘Something like that.’
Annie suppressed a sigh. That hardly told her anything. Five years ago, Theo had been reluctant to share anything too personal, but he had at least made conversation. Now it was like getting blood from a stone. But she’d expected that. She just had to warm him up a little.
‘How are things going with the company?’
His frown was reflexive. ‘It’s a mess.’
Her brows shot up. ‘That bad, huh?’
‘I’m still trying to work out if it’s a case of incompetence or—’
‘Or?’ she asked when he broke off mid-sentence.
The waiter returned with a tray and two drinks, placing them down. Both Theo and Annie waited until they were alone again.
‘Or something more serious.’
‘You’re talking embezzlement?’
‘Possibly. Fraud. I’m not sure. I have a team of forensic accountants going through your books now.’
Annie squeezed her eyes shut on a wave of nausea. ‘Oh, God.’
‘You didn’t suspect?’
‘I didn’t know how everything got so bad, so quickly, but my involvement is peripheral at best—I hired someone who came very highly recommended to run the company. By the time I realised we were over-leveraged, it was too late.’
‘What about your father?’ he asked with obvious contempt.
Annie bit into her lip, hating how much Theo despised the older man, even when she understood his reasoning. ‘He hasn’t been the same, since Mum…’
Theo’s eyes rested on Annie’s face a long time, before he glanced towards the view. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘There’s no statute of limitations on grief, apparently.’
Theo turned back to Annie. ‘And you, Annie?’
‘What about me?’
‘I imagine you were also grieving.’
A constriction formed in her throat, making it hard to swallow.
She nodded quickly, then took a sip of her drink.
It was sweet and sparkly. ‘She’d been sick for six months, though.
I hoped she’d get better, but at the same time, I was prepared that she wouldn’t.
She wasn’t the same after the first heart attack. ’
Theo’s eyes narrowed. He knew the timing of it. Annie had told him, the morning she’d ended things. She’d explained that her mother was so devastated by the idea of their being together she’d had an actual heart attack.
‘You understand that it was not your fault?’ Theo asked, echoing something he’d said at the time.
Only back then, he’d grabbed her arms and pulled her to his chest, his face lined with passion, with a need to make her understand.
Now he was the opposite, cool and calm, asking almost like he didn’t care one way or the other.
‘We’d argued,’ she whispered, pressing her fingertips to her temple, reliving that awful night.
‘They’d insisted we break up, I was blindsided.
I mean, I knew you weren’t who they expected me to be with, but they’d never been so overt in telling me what to do.
’ She shook her head, oblivious to the way his eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a compressed line of disapproval.
‘I was surprised and I probably overreacted.’
He made a sound of disapproval. ‘You were twenty-two years old.’
‘But you know, the situation with Mary,’ she whispered. ‘Ever since she died, they spent every ounce of energy protecting me, carving out the life they thought I should lead, to keep safe.’
‘What point is life if you do not actually live it?’
She’d lived it with Theo. For that one perfect year, Annie had felt as though she were brimming with vitality. As though she had a purpose beyond standing in for Mary, was seen as someone other than a poor replacement.
‘They had my best interests at heart.’
‘How can you say that, even now?’
‘It’s true. I know it must seem over-the-top to you, Theo—’
‘To anyone with eyes or a brain.’
‘Thank you for that.’
He leaned forward, surprising her by putting a hand on hers. ‘You were right to stand up to them. If only you’d had the courage to see it through.’
She bit on her lip, looking across at him, her heart racing wildly.
She ignored the condemnation in the way he’d accused her of lacking courage—like he had any idea how strong she’d had to be, all her life—and focused instead on his implication.
‘And what would have happened, if I had?’ she asked, toying with her napkin.
She sensed his withdrawal, even before he removed his hand and returned it to his glass. ‘I don’t deal in hypotheticals.’
‘Indulge me,’ she rebuffed.
‘For what reason? We’ll never know what our future might have been had they not interfered. Had you felt that our relationship was important enough to fight for.’
She looked across at the Acropolis, but for once took no solace in the ancient, familiar stones.
‘You have no idea what my life was like,’ she said, unevenly, toying with her napkin.
‘I knew you.’
‘No, I’m starting to think that’s not true.
’ Her brain was shifting from one spark to another, connecting dots, so when she looked at Theo now, it was with a dawning comprehension.
‘You hid yourself from me, you know. Anytime I asked about your childhood, your life before you came to live next door, you would change the subject.’
His nostrils flared.
‘But maybe I did the same thing,’ she pondered, lips pulled to the side.
‘I mean, I told you Mary died, but I didn’t tell you what that did to me.
What it did to my parents, and how they treated me.
I didn’t explain to you that I spent my entire life knowing that they wished our places had been reversed.
Or that my intrinsic value wasn’t in me, personally, but in being their last surviving daughter.
My mother would say to me, every night, that she couldn’t handle it if anything ever happened to me.
That I had to stay safe and stay alive, just for her.
Do you have any idea how terrified I was to even cross the street, Theo?
The pressure of it, their expectations—that’s been my entire life. ’
He was watching her with an expression that gave nothing away, but Annie wasn’t really seeing him, anyway. ‘I love them, so much, but I also…it’s hard to forgive them, for how they were with me. And how they were with you,’ she admitted.
‘And yet you still do his bidding.’
‘With the company, you mean?’
‘You were so desperate to save it, for your father’s sake, that you agreed to marry a man you profess to hate.’
‘The company is all he has left.’
‘He has you.’
‘I don’t know if he really even sees me, anymore,’ she whispered. ‘Since Mum, it’s just been…’
She searched for the right words and drew a blank. The truth was, it had been hollow. Empty. ‘Anyway…’ She trailed off into nothing, grateful for the reappearance of the waiter to take their food orders. Though she hadn’t even looked at the menu and instead appealed to Theo to choose for her.
He ordered a selection of things, and by the time they were alone again, Annie had resolutely pushed the grief of her own life aside. She hadn’t come here to unburden herself to Theo, but rather to find out more about him.
‘That’s my sad story,’ she said, tilting her head to the side and considering him. ‘Now it’s your turn.’
‘Is that how this works?’
‘Yes, usually. You know, conversation ebbs and flows.’
His smile was tight. ‘I’m familiar with the concept.’
‘But not particularly skilled with the execution.’
His next smile was more of a grimace. ‘We can’t all have your charm.’
She flinched, because it didn’t come across as a compliment at all. He expelled an angry breath, then surprised her by saying, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as it sounded.’
‘Like you resent my “charm”?’
‘In fact, I admire it,’ he said, slowly, as though the words were dragged from him against his better judgement.
‘Coming from the man who can walk into any room, say one word and have everyone fall silent to hear you speak?’
He let out a gruff laugh. ‘Is that how you view me?’
‘It’s how everyone views you.’
‘That’s because I have money.’
‘No, it’s not that.’
‘Believe me, it’s a factor.’
‘I grew up with money,’ she demurred. ‘Surrounded by it, in fact. Your charisma is regardless of your bank balance.’
‘Are you saying if I’d still been living on the streets, you’d have looked at me twice?
’ he pushed, his voice dark with resentment, so she felt a hum in her brain telling her she was close to a source of pain for him.
And it wasn’t that she wanted to cause him distress, but rather, to get to the heart of his life’s experience, so she could better understand him.