Chapter Twenty-Two Lee
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lee
The next three days pass quietly. I spend the mornings in Bean & Gone, catching up on some work but often getting distracted talking to Kat, and sampling items from her extensive coffee menu. (She makes me an iced blueberry latte that is so good, I swear I hear angels singing.)
Yesterday afternoon I attended a meeting of the craft club with Magda, which was actually really nice, even if my crocheting skills are going to need work.
When I came home exhausted from a day of socialising, Nico took one look at me and knew exactly what I needed – an evening spent crashed out on the sofa watching home improvement shows together in comfortable silence.
By some unspoken agreement, Nico and I haven’t talked about the kiss, and I think it’s for the best. We’ve been having lunch together every day, with Taco acting as chaperone, and he’s made enough comments about how great it is to have a friend from home around that the message has been received.
Loud and clear. I’ve made a concerted effort to keep all the lustful/objectifying thoughts to a minimum, and that’s been mostly going fine. Mostly.
(There was a rough moment yesterday where he took his jumper off, peeling his T-shirt up with it, and I caught a glimpse of his taut stomach and a set of ridiculously defined abdominal muscles, but I put that image firmly out of my mind and it hasn’t haunted me at all.)
The thing is, I genuinely enjoy being with Nico.
I always have. Over the past couple of days, I’ve found myself opening up – about my job and the travel involved, Tara and the book group – and he’s shared with me about the first weeks settling into town, getting to know Phoebe and the work he’s done on the inn.
Getting to know him is my new favourite hobby. I thought I already had him all figured out, but this version of us – open, honest, learning about the lives we’ve built – feels different. Nico has a way of making even the smallest detail about me feel important.
‘What do you mean you’ve never changed a tyre?’ he asked on Tuesday, his tone outraged.
‘I have breakdown cover!’
‘Princess, this is an important life skill and a safety issue. Come on, I’m going to show you how to do it right now.’
What followed had been the sort of competent, muscle-flexing scene that I was trying very hard to avoid, but by the end of it I’d successfully changed a tyre (in high heels) and I had to admit that was very satisfying.
Today, it’s too overcast to sit out in the garden, and Nico has spread a blanket over the floor in the inn’s dining room so that we can have an indoor picnic. I have absolutely no thoughts about that or how adorable it is. None.
‘So, did you manage to get that report sent off this morning?’ Nico asks.
‘Mmm,’ I nod, digging my fork into the enormous salad that Kat made, while Taco lies next to me, looking hopeful. ‘Which is good because there are a couple of jobs I’ve been asked to consult on that I really need to take. I might have to put in a few late nights,’ I add apologetically.
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Nico takes a sip of his coffee, ‘because I was going to ask you if you were up for dinner tonight?’
‘Like… a date?’ I ask tentatively. We haven’t talked any more about the whole fake-dating-as-a-married-couple thing, as it had been rather overshadowed by the kissing debacle.
‘No!’ he says quickly. Too quickly, some might say. ‘Not a date. I was thinking we could invite people over to our place for something to eat.’
Our place. I try not to shiver.
‘Tonight?’
‘Yeah, just Kat, Mei and Luke. We could order Chinese, open a bottle of wine once we’ve packed Phoebe off to bed. What do you think?’
‘I think that sounds really nice,’ I say, surprised to find I mean it.
Nico hesitates. ‘I got an email this morning from my dad’s lawyer,’ he says after a moment.
‘The trustee – his name is Charles Saunders – is flying out the day after tomorrow as planned. Apparently his intention is to stay for two weeks, which he feels will be enough time to build an accurate report.’ This last bit is said with a tinge of bitterness.
‘Oh!’ I blink. ‘Right, well, at least that’s some solid information. And two weeks, that’s not so bad, right?’
‘At least it means you can make your own plans,’ Nico says, looking down at the floor. ‘I know it’s all been really up in the air. You must have been feeling so out of control.’
That’s a complicated statement. It’s true, but not in the way he means… being around Nico makes me feel out of control. Being stuck in Roseport for an indeterminate length of time has felt… well, it’s felt lovely, actually. I realise with a sinking heart that this trip now has an expiry date.
‘On the fifth of November you get your life back,’ Nico says, and it seems like he is also struggling with exactly how to handle this.
‘If you want to check out flights home then obviously I’ll buy your ticket.
’ He attempts a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
‘Can’t have my daughter showing me up in the chivalry department. It’s the least I can do.’
‘Sure,’ I murmur. ‘I’ll look into it. That’s… good news then.’
An awkward silence falls, and when I look over, Nico is glaring down at his untouched lunch. I expect finally hearing from the lawyer has put him in a bad mood. The whole process is going to be one long, awful reminder of his relationship with his father.
‘You can let Gran know when you’ll be back,’ he says finally. ‘I know you’ve been worrying about her.’
That’s true. I even texted Jack and asked if he’d check in with her more while I’m away, because presumably she’ll share more information with the grandchild she’s actually speaking to. He assumed I was on a business trip and I didn’t correct him.
Now, I make a noncommittal sound in my throat, and Nico’s gaze sharpens.
‘You keep doing that whenever I bring her up. Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two?’
I hesitate, but actually the fight between Gran and me has been slowly eating away at me, and Nico is one of the only people in the world who really understands our relationship.
‘We had an argument,’ I admit. ‘Right before I came here, and we haven’t exactly spoken since.’
A worried frown crosses his face. ‘Was it about our situation?’
‘No, I didn’t tell her about it. I wasn’t sure you’d want her to know. She thinks I’m in the States for work.’
‘I don’t mind if you talk to her about this,’ he says gently. ‘I know the two of you don’t keep things from each other.’
‘I have no idea how I’d tell her right now. We’ve never gone this long without talking before.’
‘What happened?’
‘Honestly, I don’t really know. We were talking about…’ I trail off then, realising I’m going to struggle to tell this story without mentioning Adrian, and for some reason that feels weird. I tell myself not to worry about it – Nico hardly cares about my love life.
‘… the man I was seeing. In London. Gran didn’t approve,’ I finish, the words coming fast.
Nico’s posture stiffens. He opens his mouth then closes it. ‘Why didn’t she approve? Did he… do something?’
‘No!’ I exclaim. ‘He’s a very nice man,’ I add, and Nico’s shoulders, which had just started to come down, seem to tense again. ‘Gran didn’t approve because she thought he was boring.’
This shocks a choked laugh out of Nico. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised,’ he says. ‘That sounds exactly like her.’
‘I know, and then I got a bit… annoyed, I suppose, because I couldn’t understand her problem with me seeing someone who’s kind and respectful and even-tempered.’
Nico only makes a humming sound that could be agreement or encouragement to continue with the story, and I can’t see his expression because he looks down at his coffee.
‘Anyway, I told her that I didn’t want to be anything like—’
‘Your parents,’ Nico finishes, already nodding. ‘That makes sense. Growing up with the two of them must have been traumatising as fuck.’ There’s no judgement in his tone, and unlike Gran he doesn’t try and reassure me, only listens. Maybe that’s why I find myself opening up.
‘Exactly. I don’t know if she realises how bad it was. I mean, I suppose she must have done because eventually she took me to live with her, but we didn’t ever talk about it.’
Nico frowns. ‘How old were you when you properly moved in with her?’
I tilt my head, considering. ‘Sixteen? It was after Mum and Dad had split up the last time, before they reconciled again six months later. They’d had a huge row, absolutely trashed the house – it looked like a hurricane had been through.
The neighbours called the police but Dad managed to smooth that all out before he left.
Gran found me the next morning trying to clean everything up, and Mum refused to get out of bed.
Gran took one look at all the broken furniture, the empty bottles, the smashed-up china and told me to pack my bags. ’
Nico looks stunned. ‘I didn’t know any of this.’
I shrug. ‘Why would you? Jack was at uni, you were travelling.’
‘Did Jack know?’ Nico’s voice is gruff.
‘I don’t think he realised I’d properly moved out at that point,’ I say.
‘And I didn’t want to tell him. You know how hard Mum and Dad were on him, wanting him to be part of their grand acting dynasty.
It was awful the way they treated him, and he didn’t need me piling on with my problems. I could tell he was struggling, but I couldn’t do anything.
It was horrible. Mum and Dad were… addicted to their own drama, I suppose, and I didn’t know how to cope with being around it. ’
‘You were just a kid.’