Page 103 of Vivacity
If I’m going to act, I need to get hold of Miles Montague.
As soon as possible.
CHAPTER 45
Ethan
Miles’ reply to my panicked text message is as unwelcome as it is predictable.
Merry Christmas. But you must realise you’re the last person I want to hear from over the holidays
Of course I am.
I get that, of course. But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely critical. Also - I have a proposal for you that I really think you’re going to want to hear
Short of you walking away from our company, that’s highly unlikely
But if you insist
Little does he know.
I can come over tomorrow?
The gods of timing are on my side. Jamie’s due to spend the day with some school friends at a place that offers go-karting and gaming arcades.
We’re up in Chipping Norton this week. But I can talk tomorrow morning if you’re sure this can’t wait.
I’m sure. I’ll drive up. See you then.
That makes sense. Miles has had a place in the Cotswolds for a few years. My stomach roils unpleasantly. Interrupting his family time to have this conversation makes the prospect even less appealing, but needs must. I have a very clear objective, and I won’t let a lack of courage stand in my way.
Not anymore.
Miles’Cotswolds pad is fucking amazing, a beautifully proportioned Georgian sandstone manor standing in what look like lovely grounds, even if the trees are starkly bare. As I ease up the driveway, the gravel crunching under my wheels, I’m met with a painful reminder of how Christmas can look when someone gives enough of a shit to make an effort. The firs outside are dotted with white fairy lights, there’s an enormous red and green wreath on the front door, and a tree twinkles through one of the long sash windows. It’s also a reminder that I’m very much an unwelcome interloper.
Miles meets me at the front door, every inch the country squire in forest-green chinos and a beige sweater with leather elbow patches. He may look far more undone than I’m used to seeing him in London, but he also looks distinctlyunderwhelmed to see me. Nevertheless, he extends a hand and we shake.
‘Sorry to disturb your family time. I appreciate you seeing me. I’ll make this as quick as I can.’
‘You’re lucky that I have my folks andallmy in-laws here and the twins are particularly grizzly today. You’re almost looking like the appealing option.’
I know from previous conversations that Saoirse is from a large and chaotic Irish family. I respond to his olive branch with a chuckle and follow him away from the cacophony of voices and a child crying and across the hall to what is a lovely study overlooking the gardens. The wall-to-wall bookshelves are a rich burgundy, a fire is crackling in the grate, and a pair of wing-backed armchairs flank it. The overall effect has me thinking about Soph’s distaste for my brand of minimalism. I find a lack of clutter eases my mind, helps me focus—but perhaps I should warm my place up a little.
Before the fireplace stands a small coffee table laden with a pot of tea and a plate filled with mince pies and shortbread. However displeased Miles is to see me, good hospitality clearly runs in his veins.
We take our seats, and he gets to pouring.
‘How’s Sophia?’
‘She’s great. She’s back in Greece for the week.’
‘Theo tells me you two are dating.’
I nod. ‘That’s right. We are.’
‘She’s fantastic.’ His tone is mild, but I swear I hear an element of judgement.Don’t fuck it up when you don’t deserve her in the first place.
‘No argument here.’
