Jim shook his head. ‘Fancy sharing a bottle of wine?’ His voice didn’t give away any of his thoughts. Did he want to make things work? Or didn’t he?
Greta tried not to give away anything, too. It had been such a long journey just to get to this place, where they’d been able to spend a bit of lovely family time together. She felt like she needed some time alone with Lottie, and to process her thoughts. She could read her new book, and give her ideas for Brewtique some more thought. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Wine sounds great.’
‘Good,’ Jim said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
They shared a brief smile before he walked away, and Greta shut the door.
As she listened to his footsteps descending the stairs, she pressed her back against the wall, her heart beating so hard it felt like it might break free from her chest.
Chapter 39
GRETA ARRIVED ATthe penthouse on New Year’s Eve with a bottle of Merlot under her arm and a handful of party poppers in her pocket. On the walk over, she’d passed clusters of revellers wearing big coats and scarves over their sparkly outfits. At midnight there would be an outdoor countdown in the town square, complete with a stage and live music.
She pressed the buzzer, and Jim clicked the door open straight away, like he’d been waiting for her to arrive.
He greeted her with a smile that widened even more when she handed him the wine. ‘Fantastic,’ he said, admiring the label. ‘Come in.’
A multitude of candles flickered on the coffee table, casting dancing shadows around the room. The main lights were off, so the focus was on the huge windows that showcased Long- mill. At night, the glass appeared black, and the street lamps and car headlights below twinkled like fireflies.
Greta was drawn toward the view. ‘The town looks so beautiful from up here,’ she said, her breath fogging the glass.
In the kitchen, Jim poured two glasses of wine and carried them through, standing beside her. ‘Things can look different when you see them from a new perspective,’ he said. ‘Like a city in the dark—you don’t always notice what’s there until it lights up at night.’ His gaze fixed on something in the distance, as if lost in his own thoughts.
Greta glanced at him. Was this really Jim talking? It sounded poetic, not something he’d usually say.
Jim shook his head, snapping himself back into the moment. ‘Is Lottie excited about Jayden’s mum’s party?’ he asked.
Greta nodded. ‘I haven’t seen her so animated for a long time. She even wore a dress.’
Jim raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’
‘And it was pink.’
He placed the back of his hand to his forehead in a mock swoon.
Greta smiled and sipped her wine. She followed Jim to the sofa, taking a seat at the opposite end, leaving some space between them. It felt like there was something delicate in the air, like the finest particles of ice, that might crack if they uttered the wrong words.
Their decision. Tonight.
‘There’s something I need to tell you . . .’ she said.
For a split second, she caught something in Jim’s eyes, a kernel of hope, or perhaps even fear.
‘It’s about Brewtique,’ she added.
‘Oh,’ he said with a release of breath. ‘Right.’
‘I was passing by on Christmas Eve and called in. I had a nice chat with Josie, the owner. There was a card in her window looking for an assistant. And I told her I was interested.’
Jim took a few moments to process this. ‘You mean, actually working in the coffee shop? Taking orders, making coffee, that kind of thing?’
‘That’s what coffee shop assistants usually do,’ she teased.
‘I know. It’s just not what I expected.’
‘I’m tired of always looking back, to how I used to be, howweused to be as a family. It’s time to move on.’
‘Move on?’ Jim echoed slowly.
