Page 61 of Between the Lines

Theo blanched and didn’t answer directly, he didn’t dare. “I’ve done some prelim costings,” he said, “and we could turn a profit in a couple of years. It would be a much better fit with the town—”

“But not with our portfolio. Lux doesn’t operate bloody boutique hotels, Theodore.”

“We could diversify.”

“Why?” He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his pursed lips. “Because you’ve screwed some bloke in New Milton and don’t want to hurt his feelings? For fuck’s sake, Theodore, what’s next? You shag a clown and we open a bloody circus?”

“I just think—”

“No.” His father slapped his hands flat on the table. “Youdon’tbloody think. That’s the problem. You’re away with the fairies half the time—and I don’t mean the rainbow variety—and you don’tthink. Profit, Theodore. That’s the bottom line. That’s what keeps the business afloat and all these people in work.” He puffed out a breath, sinking back grumpily into his chair. “And you wonder why you’re not a partner yet. Now get the fuck on with it. I won’t listen to more of this crap. You understand?”

Jaw clenched, Theo nodded and rose to his feet. He was surprised his cheeks weren’t burning, but the scalding sense of shame his father wielded so effectively was absent. Instead, he felt a deep and profound certainty that his father was wrong. His fatherwaswrong. But what the hell Theo was supposed to do about it, he didn’t know. Eddie Wishart was judge and jury when it came to Lux Properties, and Theo knew he’d get no quarter from the board. All they cared about were their dividends. So he gathered his papers together in silence and left the room, stalking down the short length of corridor to his office.

Miranda sat at her desk outside, took one look at his face and returned to her work without comment. Theo didn’t slam the office door, but he closed it firmly behind him and sank back to lean against it. “Fuck,” he said quietly. “Fuckingfuck.”

Dumping his papers on the desk, he flopped into his chair and swung around so he could stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He’d been back in the office two days and already it felt like he’d never left. His diary was crammed with project meetings, his in-box brimming with unread emails flagged “urgent”—and he was glaring out across the simmering city like he had nothing better to do than mope.

After five minutes or so, his door opened and the scent of coffee wafted in. He let out a breath. Miranda.

“Can I make an observation?” she said.

Reluctantly, he swiveled his chair around to face her. “About what?”

“You.” Miranda wasn’t usually shy in coming forward, but today she shrugged uncomfortably as she set a mug of coffee on his desk. She didn’t usually bring him coffee, either. “You’re super distracted. I mean—” she waved a hand at him “—more than usual.”

It was true. Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t stop thinking about Luca. He ached with a constant thrum of regret and longing that never faded, day or night. Christ, how was it possible to miss someone so much your bones hurt? At times he felt frantic with longing, desperate to see him, to touch him, and yet helpless to do anything about it. Because it was over; he’d destroyed Luca’s trust in him and there was no coming back from that kind of betrayal. His frustration was unbearable.

And then there was the Majestic, which only made things worse. The problem was, he could see its potential so clearly: the coastal-chic dining room, its French doors standing open to an alfresco dining area, the garden well tended but retaining something of its magical, rambling charm, the gazebo nestled among the trees for weddings or music, the twinkle lights dancing in the branches...

And Luca, running it. Owning it. Smiling and happy in Theo’s arms.

His gaze dropped to the plans on his desk, the safe, faceless new-build design he’d grown to hate. “I guess I have a few things on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He considered her offer for a moment, a beat of wild possibility pulsing in the back of his mind. Sliding the plans for the new-build across his desk, he said, “What do you think of it?”

Miranda watched him, as if assessing what he was asking for, then sat down and took a closer look. “The design?”

“Yes. All of it.”

“Well, it’s...” She glanced up. “Honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Boring.”

Theo nodded, that uneasy exciting beat growing more forceful. “It’s safe,” he said, looking down at the architect’s drawing. “There are a thousand other hotels that look just the same.”

“You know what you’re getting when you check in,” Miranda countered. “But it could be anywhere in the country.”

“Anywhere in the world,” Theo agreed. “But the Majestic... She’s part of the landscape, she belongs to New Milton.” Like Luca belonged to the Majestic. “It feels wrong, tearing her down.”

Miranda kept her eyes on the plans as she said, “What does the Big Boss think?”

“He wants the new resort open by spring.” Theo scrubbed a hand through his hair, its silky texture reminding him of how it had felt full of sea salt and sand. “He thinks I’m being...sentimental even considering other options.”

“Are you?” Miranda looked up sharply. “Considering other options?”

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