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“Are you sure you can manage here while I go down there?” Lucy asked Ellen as she gave Mary a thank you hug.

“Of course,” Ellen replied immediately. “The sooner you get this sorted, the sooner you can move on to buying this building, and then you can relax a bit.”

Lucy threw her a little smile which she hoped hid the stress she felt. “That would be nice,” she said, a wave of the now-familiar nausea hitting her. She swallowed, willing it to ease.

“And Mary can always pop round and give me a hand if we get busy,” Ellen reassured her. “Don’t worry about it at all.”

* * *

Two hours later, Lucy was walking back to the coffee shop with a signed set of contracts. She messaged Dylan: Contract is signed. When shall we contact the estate agents?

It, of course, took no time at all for her to begin questioning the sanity of her decision. Never more so than when Dylan wandered into the coffee shop the next day. He wore a black beanie hat and a grey North Face puffer jacket to protect himself from the cold. Every woman in the place seemed to turn as he entered, including Ellen, who immediately greeted him like he was her long-lost son. Lucy struggled not to roll her eyes as Ellen hugged Dylan warmly before heading back into the kitchen.

“What can I get for you?” Lucy asked.

“Just an Americano to take away, thanks,” Dylan said. “I can’t stay. I’m over to hang out with Michael and I thought I may as well pop in rather than messaging and ask if you can send me over the full business accounts when you’ve a chance?”

“Why?” Lucy asked.

“So I can look through them, and get a proper idea of what we’re working with,” Dylan replied, far more patiently than Lucy deserved at this point, she couldn’t help feeling.

Lucy took a second. He was her business partner. It was reasonable of him to want to see the accounts.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll get them to you this evening, if you give me your email address.”

Dylan took out his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a business card. She put it in her apron pocket without sparing it a glance.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve got them drawn up for the last couple of years by my accountant.”

“Danielle?” asked Dylan.

“Yes,” Lucy said. Of course Dylan would know her accountant! She knew it was a small town and he’d grown up there, but this was ridiculous. He hadn’t lived here for years!

“After I’ve been through them, maybe we can have a meeting? Go over any queries I might have?”

“Sure,” said Lucy, wearily. She handed him his coffee.

“Great,” Dylan said. He seemed a little taken aback that she’d agreed so readily. In fairness, so was she, but what was the point in fighting it? She hated this, but he was a partner in the business, she’d agreed to that, and this was what she was going to have to deal with.

* * *

Lucy put off emailing Dylan for as long as she could that evening. She made herself a nest on the sofa, surrounding herself with cushions and blankets, and put on The Holiday — she didn’t care if it was early for a Christmas movie; she needed cheering up. She glared at her laptop, taunting her from where she’d placed it ready for business on the other end of the sofa. But she’d said she’d send it over today, and she’d only be grumping about it overnight if she didn’t.

Finally, she opened up her laptop and located the files from her accountant. She grumbled when she had to get up again to go and retrieve Dylan’s business card from her apron pocket. She took a proper look at it for the first time. It was pale grey and had some sort of fancy linen finish. Dylan Benjamin. Cybersecurity was all it said on one side, with his email address and mobile number on the other.

She returned to the laptop and sent the email. She closed the lid immediately. She hated this. Her coffee shop was hers. She’d built it up herself, putting all her savings into it, determined that she’d never let someone else take away her dream from her, and now she was handing over a huge part of the control to someone she didn’t even like. She couldn’t believe she was in this situation and couldn’t help blaming herself.

Had she rushed setting up a business again, desperate to get her life back on track after it had quite spectacularly crashed and burned? Living back with her mum and dad and working two jobs she’d had no real interest in . . . she’d felt like such a failure. She’d saved up as quickly as she could, completely focused on her goal, embarrassed that she’d allowed her business to be destroyed by a man she never should have trusted. Paul had been handsome and charming, just like Dylan, with his jokes and awareness of the power of his grin. And she’d been thrilled when he’d been interested in her. She’d been unguarded, open to falling in love and, boy, had she regretted it when his actions led to her business folding. But if anything had come out of the experience, it was that she needed to rely on herself only and look after herself and her interests, and here she was, choosing to share control with a man who was, if anything, even more handsome and charming than her ex. This absolutely was not going to be a case of history repeating itself.

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked, smiling at the size of Carrie’s bump when Carrie opened the door to her on Sunday. “You look like you swallowed a beach ball.”

“He’s a very kicky beach ball.” Carrie laughed. “I feel good. I’ve got so much more energy now, and I’m not feeling nauseous. The first few months were rough.”

“I hope you’ve been making the most of your day off and putting your feet up.”

“I have. Michael’s out at the climbing centre with Dylan, Layla’s with her mum, and Poppy’s spending the day with my mum and Mary, so I have the house to myself. I’ve been relaxing catching up with reading The Age of Innocence for the book club for the last couple of hours and it’s been absolute bliss.”