Page 2 of Best Mistake Ever

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Thankfully, he’s turning out to be a fantastic business partner: dedicated, smart and determined. The only thing that bothers me is that there’s sometimes an odd, far-away look in his eye, and I’m never quite sure what he’s thinking. He can be a bit of a closed book like that.

‘Morning,’ he says now, as he strides through the room and sits in his office chair, surveying his impeccably neat workstation and adjusting his keyboard so it lines up exactly with the edge of his desk. He does this every morning and this little ritual always makes me smile. I don’t think he even realises he’s doing it.

‘Morning,’ I reply. ‘How was your weekend?’

‘Yeah, good, thanks. I spent most of it coding.’

I shake my head at him. ‘You’re going to burn yourself out.’

He flips me a grin and his face lights up with it. He’s a really attractive guy, though he doesn’t seem to be aware of the fact. At least he doesn’t act like he is.

I can’t understand why he doesn’t have women crawling all over him.

He’s not mentioned having gone on any dates recently so I suspect he’s thinking along the same lines as me: stay single and laser-focused until we’ve got this business off the ground.

I have wondered, on occasion, whether he’s actually asexual because I don’t remember him ever talking about a partner whilst at uni either. Though I suspect that was because he had a lot on his plate, what with managing the heavy workload of the course and also having to regularly travel back to the assisted living complex in Bath where his mum now lives, to deal with her increasing health needs.

Dementia is a horrific affliction, made doubly hard by the fact his dad passed away from a heart attack in Jem’s second year and his mum gets confused and forgets that he died.

I can’t imagine how hard all that must be for him to deal with. Not that he ever complains.

‘Tea?’ he asks me, already rising from his chair.

‘Love one, thanks,’ I say, running a hand through my hair and finding a couple of knots at the very end which I work free with my fingers. My hair is the physical feature I like most about myself. I’ve not cut it for years, barring the odd trim to neaten up split ends, and it hangs right down to the base of my spine now. I love the heavy weight of it across my shoulders. It’s a bit like a comfort blanket, I guess.

I’ve managed to check through all the new emails that have appeared in my inbox since Friday – does everyone work at the weekends now? – before Jem returns with two mugs brimming with tea.

‘Thanks,’ I murmur, as he places one carefully next to my keyboard so as not to slosh any hot liquid onto my desk.

‘Have we heard back about the funding round yet?’ he asks hopefully, peering over my shoulder at my computer screen.

He smells like minty shower gel and fresh air.

I shake my head, pressing my mouth down at the corners. ‘Not yet. But hopefully soon. When I chased it on Friday, they said they’ll let us know by the end of this month.’ I check the date on my watch. ‘So in about two weeks’ time.’

Jem nods. ‘Okay.’ He runs his hand over his jaw which, unusually, is covered in stubble this morning. ‘God, I hope we get it. It’ll be great to be able to start hiring so we can really get things off the ground. And start paying ourselves,’ he adds.

I grimace. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. My savings are disappearing fast and I really don’t want to have to ask my dad for a loan.’

Jem nods sagely. He knows all about the delicately balanced relationship I have with my father. They’ve met each other a few times now and to my amazement seem to get on pretty well, which is a real plus. The last thing I need is my dad on my back about the suitability of my business partner. Not that it’s any of his business – and I intend to keep it that way.

Glancing down at my mobile, which is lying next to my keyboard, I see I have a message from my friend, Pete. Opening it up, I scan the text.

Hey, Bea. You’re still in Bath, right? I know this is a long shot, but Jay’s looking for a venue near you for his festival which is planned for next weekend (last minute, I know, but the place he booked just outside Bath has just had a nearby river break its banks and flood the grounds so camping there is impossible now). If you can think of anywhere he can approach, will you let me know? He’s found somewhere available in Gloucestershire but they want an arm and a leg for it, which will just about bankrupt him. He’s sold a lot of tickets though and doesn’t want to let people down this late in the day, especially not after all the work he’s put into it. He’s in bits, poor thing. If you could pass this message on to anyone you can think might be able to help, we’d really appreciate it.

Love ya!

I pull a face, feeling a huge amount of pity for Jay, who’s worked really hard to get his festivals up and running over the last couple of years. I wonder whether the hotel where Dee is working might be able to help.

She’ll be driving there right now though, in heavy traffic, and I don’t want to distract her. Deciding to call her at lunchtime, I wrap my hand around the mug of tea Jem delivered to me, enjoying the heat against my palm, and I’m about to lift it to my mouth when my mobile rings. I glance at the caller ID and – speak of the Devil – I’m bemused to see Dee’s name lit up on the screen.

Huh.

That’s really strange. She never calls me this early in the morning. Since she started her new job at the hotel, she’s beencareful not to be late – something she’s been fired for at previous jobs. In fact, she told me the other day that she’s been leaving an hour early most mornings to be on the safe side.

I pick up my phone and accept the call, my heart beating a little faster as a strange sense of foreboding licks at the edges of my mind. We’re not the type of twins that feel each other’s emotions, like some claim to be able to do, but there’s something about the timing of this call that’s setting my nerves on edge.

‘Hey, you. Everything okay?’ I ask.