Beth took a deep breath. “I got your postcards.”
Blake’s eyes darted to the pendant that hung around her neck. With one finger, he reached out and stroked it. “I see that.”
“How in the world did you find it?”
“I thought I was crazy, to be honest.” Blake smiled, shaking his head at himself. “I rode the Maiden of the Mist every day for three days and then I spotted it. I thought I was imagining things. It was just sitting there, right on the corner of these rocks.”
“And you went down there and got it?”
He shrugged, as if it was nothing.
Lowering her voice, Beth inched closer, meeting his eyes and taking in those heavenly flecks of green. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?”
Gently, Blake stroked the side of her face. “Because I was a fool?”
“I was waiting... The whole time you were writing those postcards, I was waiting for you to say something. To tell me that we were more than just friends.”
“You were?” Blake’s eyes looked moist and he swiped at them with the back of his hand.
Beth nodded. “But I’ve had enough of waiting. So...” she inhaled slowly and slid her hands into Blake’s. “So, I’m here to tell you that I love you. Insane, fairy-tale, makes you go breaking the law to retrieve lost jewellery kind of love. And I want you to come with me.”
Blake blinked slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening and might wake-up at any moment. Beneath its shield of scruffy stubble, his jaw twitched. “Come with you?”
“I spoke to Nomad.” She moved closer. Blake was stroking the inside of her palms with his forefingers and it was making it hard to concentrate. “When they told me I was the winner, they said it had been a really tough decision. So, I suggested that maybe you and I could share the prize.”
Blake looked at Emily, who nodded enthusiastically. “You want us to go around the world together?”
“I really, really do... there are some conditions though.” She smiled playfully up at him.
“Conditions?”
“We’d have to travel together. The entire year. Just like we did across Canada. Always together. For twelve whole months...”
“I think I can do that.” Blake slipped his hand around to the small of her back and pulled her towards him.
“We’d have to combine our blogs - start a new one - write together.”
“Done.” He brushed her hair from her cheek.
“And we’d have to seal the deal with a kiss...”
Blake smiled, and his Hollywood dimples made her feel weak at the knees. “I can absolutely do that one,” he whispered. And then, at last, he brushed his lips against hers and they melted into a kiss that made them feel as if they were the only two people in the room.
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“Last stop, London.” Blake leaned over and kissed Beth on the cheek. She grinned and scratched playfully at his stubble.
“Do you think when we’re not moving country every few weeks, you’ll shave a little more often?”
“I thought you liked it.” Blake rubbed at his chin. “It’s rugged and manly.”
“It’s prickly. And it gets in the way of me kissing my husband.”
Blake turned his back to the aeroplane window and tilted his head at her. “Well, in that case... I guess I should do what my wife tells me to, shouldn’t I?”
Beth grinned. “You know what they say... happy wife, happy life!”
“Are you?” Blake suddenly looked serious. He reached for her hand. “Are you happy?”
Beth smiled and squeezed his fingers in hers. “Blake O’Brien, this has been the best year of my life. And don’t you ever doubt it.”
“Mine too.”
“I love you, Mr O’Brien.”
“I love you too.”
Beth sat up and flipped open her iPad. “But, tell me, as you’ve decided to do what your wife says, does that mean I’m allowed to pick our next trip?”
“We haven’t even finished this one yet!”
“I know. But, look, I saw an article about this tiny little island off the coast of New Zealand... hardly anyone has ever been there, you have to take like three planes and a boat, but it has the most incredible caves, and these huge sparkling lakes, and waterfalls...”
Blake glanced at the screen, skimming over the article and the pictures. “Well,” he said, smiling at her. “When we got married, I promised that I’d go to the ends of the Earth for you... so I guess I can’t say no, can I?”
THE END
BLURB
He was her first love. She’s the one he never forgot. In the South of France, where the sun shines brightly and anything is possible, they finally get their second chance.
Everything in Annie’s life is going perfectly; she’s living in a trendy part of London, she’s running her own business, and she’s pretty sure her boyfriend Jeremy is about to propose. But when Jeremy tells her he’s not ready to commit, things start to fall apart.
Desperate for some space, Annie heads to the South of France. And at her grandmother’s picturesque chateau in Provence, she is reunited with her childhood sweetheart – the effortlessly handsome Sebastian.
At first, Annie tries to ignore the way Sebastian makes her heart flutter. But when organising a village festival brings them closer together, she starts to remember exactly why she fell for him when she was a teenager.
But with her business and her ex-boyfriend Jeremy trying to pull her back to England, will Annie be brave enough to follow her heart instead of her head? Or will Sebastian lose her all over again?
Fifteen Years Ago…
Dear Annie,
I can’t wait to see you again this summer.
When do you arrive? I have been helping your grandparents at the chateau and it is looking beautiful. They are hosting another wedding this weekend. I wish you could be here to see it.
Are your parents staying in France all summer too? Or just you and your brother?
Sebastian x
Dear Seb,
I can’t wait either. England is dull and grey, and boarding school is lonely. Tommy doesn’t really talk to me – I guess he’s embarrassed of his little sister – and I don’t seem to fit in with the other girls.
It’s just going to be me and Tommy for the summer. We arrive at the end of June and stay until September. I hope you won’t get sick of me!
Annie xx
Dear Annie,
I could never become sick of you. We’ve spent every summer together since we were ten years old, and I still miss you when you’re gone.
Hurry-up June,
Sebastian xxx
P.S. I helped your grandfather to build a new porch swing this weekend. He says he will teach me to become a carpenter. I am very excited.
Dear Seb,
I hope you meant it when you said you’d never become sick of me, because I’ve decided I’m going to ask Mum and Dad if I can stay in France after the summer – permanently. There are great schools in Provence – I’ve already researched it – and it would be ‘Tres Magnifique’ for improving my French. Plus, we’d see each other all the time and I could help GiGi and Grandpa organise the weddings.
Say you’re excited?
Your Annie xxxx
Dear Annie,
I am jumping for joy – is that the right expression? If you lived here, I would be the happiest French boy in the whole of France.
And if I learn to mend and build things like your grandfather… when we are old and married we can run our own chateau.
My dreams are coming true,
Yours even more, Sebastian xxxx
Dear Seb,
That is the best idea I’ve ever heard. I am jumping for joy too!
See you next week,
Annie xxxx
Dear Annie,
Thank you for the most amazing summer I have ever had. Being with you every day was wonderful and I miss you terribly. But we can do
it all over again when you return to LIVE HERE (!!!!) after Christmas.
I want to take you to the lavender fields, and go cycling, and to the beach, and to all the other places we didn’t have a chance to visit yet. Next year, when I get my scooter, we will travel all over the South of France and do such wonderful things.
Your adoring boyfriend,
Sebastian xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dear Annie,
I wonder if my last letter got lost? I hope not. I asked your grandfather to telephone you and check but he said you have been very busy.
He is helping me make something extra special for you as a gift.
Your love-sick boyfriend,
Sebastian xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Dear Annie,
It has been two months since you left and I am becoming a little worried. You always write back, even when you’re busy… but maybe I am just extra worried because I’m so excited to see you.
Perhaps I will break our letters-only rule and telephone you… or email!
Your Sebastian xx
Dear Annie,
It is Christmas Eve. I went to visit your grandparents to give them a gift and your grandmother was very sad to tell me that your parents won’t allow you to move here.
I am so sad and so sorry. I hope you are alright. Do not be too upset – we will still have the summers. And when we are eighteen we can go anywhere together. Wherever you like.
Missing you,
Sebastian xx
Dear Annie,
It has been one year since you last wrote me a letter. I don’t know why you stopped and I don’t know why you’re not coming back this summer, but I do know that I can’t keep waiting and missing you and feeling so very sad.
Sebastian
1
Annie
“Happy 30th Birthday, Annie!!”
As she entered through the large glass doors, the entire office erupted in a flurry of excited whoops and cheers. Annie pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head and grinned. Beyond the huge shining windows of her sixteenth floor office, the early morning landscape of Central London glistened; it was going to be a good day.
She had back-to-back meetings lined up until six p.m. but Jeremy had booked La Torlioni’s for dinner; the most exclusive restaurant in the city. He must have arranged it months ago. And Annie could only think of one reason he’d go to so much trouble.
Last year, their friends Chris and Emma had got engaged. Jeremy had laughed about it because Chris had proposed in his pyjamas after a rather heavy night of drinking, and Annie vividly remembered Jeremy saying that if he were ever to propose to someone it would be spectacular – not something flippant or spur of the moment. Of course, Annie had coyly asked exactly what kind of spectacular and he’d replied, “Oh, you know, somewhere exclusive. Champagne, dinner, dancing… a night to remember.”
So, Annie was pretty certain that this was going to be it. After two years of dating and more than their fair share of ups and downs – being both business partners and romantic partners wasn’t easy – Annie was going to get her night to remember. In truth, she wasn’t the kind of girl who’d spent her life dreaming of being proposed to. And the thought of Jeremy getting down on one knee and ‘popping the question’ didn’t fill her stomach with butterflies. But for the two of them to get married seemed... logical. And, as her mother frequently reminded her, time was ticking on; if she wanted to start a family, she really shouldn’t leave it too much longer.
So, after fidgeting her way through the last meeting of the day, at precisely two minutes past six she grabbed her birthday balloons and her briefcase and hurried home to change into something worthy of La Torlioni’s grand dining room.
She chose a figure-fitting black dress. She curled her long blonde hair so that it looked fuller and wavier than usual, she neatly applied the kind of makeup she knew Jeremy liked – bright red lipstick and porcelain cheeks – and squeezed her feet into a pair of far-too-high black shoes. Then she called downstairs and asked the doorman to order her a cab.
Her apartment was part of a small complex near Borough Market. There was a communal gym, a swimming pool and a sauna, as well as twenty-four-hour security and a stunning rooftop garden.
Annie’s apartment was on the third floor and looked towards the entrance of the market. On a Saturday morning, one of her favourite activities was to watch the comings and goings below – people meeting friends, buying coffee, croissants, flowers, and fresh juice. It reminded her of the markets in France, where – growing up – she’d spent most of her summers. Several times since they’d begun dating, she’d tried to persuade Jeremy to return with her and visit her grandmother. But he’d insisted that the agency was too busy and, for some reason, she had always ended up agreeing with him.
The PR agency that Jeremy and Annie co-owned was large, sleek, had extremely high-profile clients, and paid each of them a ridiculously high salary. But, despite the fact that they had built the business side-by-side, from the ground up, lately Annie was developing the increasingly uneasy sensation that something was changing. She just couldn’t quite figure out what.
She and Jeremy had begun as friends. Straight out of university, they had interned at one of London’s most prestigious PR firms and, after working their way up to management level, had branched out on their own just four years ago.
At the firm’s two-year anniversary party, they had kissed. And after the kiss they had fallen into the kind of relationship that wasn’t amazing and wasn’t terrible – it just was.
Perhaps because they were too busy to meet other people, perhaps because they knew each other so well that it just felt easy or sensible... whatever the reason, they became a couple. And now they were ‘Annie and Jeremy’ – the power duo that everyone looked up to.
Except, recently, Annie felt as if the power between them was beginning to shift.
Within the agency, she had always been the driving force, the one with the creativity and the vision to see how big they could be, while Jeremy had simply been happy to come along for the ride. And yet, newer staff – the recruits who began as admin assistants or receptionists – seemed to be under the impression that Annie worked for Jeremy and, even worse, that she had somehow only secured her position because they were dating. For a long time, she had shrugged it off. But now it was starting to irritate her.
Standing in the marble-tiled lobby of her apartment building, waiting for her cab, she tried to push thoughts of the agency from her mind and focus on tonight. Briefly, she wondered whether Jeremy would have bought her a ring or whether they’d go ring shopping together. But then she tried to stop thinking about it, because it was making her stomach feel woozy.
Jeremy was waiting for her at the top of La Torlionis’ front steps. He was wearing the same suit he’d been in all day at the office and, momentarily, Annie frowned at it. Then, tutting at herself, she reasoned that he’d probably been stuck in meetings and hadn’t had the chance to change.
As she reached up to kiss him on the cheek, Jeremy stiffly put his hand on her waist and pulled away. “Shall we?”
At a table by the window, tucked privately in the corner of the splendid dining room, Jeremy ordered them a bottle of champagne and, finally, smiled.
“You look lovely, Annie. Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you.” She clinked her glass against his and took a sip. She’d never particularly liked champagne, but Jeremy would be quite happy to finish most of the bottle. Looking around, she shook her head and tucked a curl behind her ear. “I can’t believe you got us a table here. How long ago did you book?”
“Oh, before Christmas I think.”
Annie smiled. Jeremy had never been very good at surprising her or showing her how he felt, but the fact he’d been planning this for so long and hadn’t breathed a word made her feel like maybe finally they were heading in the right direction.
“Did you talk to Clint today? About the Bryant account?”
Annie flinched. She’d ho
ped that just for one evening, this evening in particular, they might avoid talking about work.
“Yes. I did. The notes are in your inbox.”
“Great. And have you thought any more about it?”
Annie shrugged, trying to think of a way to divert the conversation. Six months ago, their old employers – the firm they’d left to start their own agency – had approached them and asked whether they would consider a merger. They were suggesting ridiculously large sums of money, and Jeremy was very keen. But Annie wasn’t.
“Jeremy, maybe we can talk about something else?” She smiled, reaching for his hand across the table. “Leave work at work?”
Jeremy briefly squeezed her hand but then drummed his fingers on the crisp white table cloth. Nodding, he turned to wave at a waiter. “Let’s order. Shall we?”
By the time dessert arrived, Annie was beginning to think she’d been wrong about Jeremy’s reasons for organising such an extravagant meal. He had been distracted all evening, had checked his phone at least ten times, and had even excused himself to make a phone call mid-way through their main course.
Momentarily, she thought that perhaps this was all part of his plan; perhaps a string quartet was about to burst out and serenade her or perhaps a harpist would appear, strumming her favourite song. But as she scraped the last morsel of raspberry sugar crystals from her plate and marvelled at the fact she was, somehow, hungrier than when they’d arrived, she realised that time was almost up. The end of the evening had arrived and Jeremy had not asked her to marry him.
The True Love Travels Series Box Set Page 28
