LITMIR.BIZ

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or the importance of organic baby food.’ Each time it was a reminder that his friendship group was moving on without him, the teasing about his bachelor status beginning to grate.

      She raised her eyes to his. ‘Don’t you want kids? One day?’

      He laughed shortly. ‘Why does it all come back to kids and marriage? I thought society had evolved beyond that. Why not just enjoy some company for a while and then move on?’

      Maddison was frozen, her fork in her hand. ‘That’s really what you think? Poor Camilla.’

      Kit frowned. ‘She knew the score. I don’t pretend to be anything different, to want anything different, Maddison. If she wants to change the rules without checking to see if I’m still playing along then that’s not my problem.’

      ‘People change. No one goes into a relationship expecting it to stay static. Relationships evolve. They grow or they end. It’s the way it has to be.’

      ‘I don’t agree. It’s perfectly possible for two people to enjoy themselves with no expectations of anything more. Look, Camilla said she was happy enough with a casual thing but it didn’t take long before she started pushing for more. If she’d been more honest with herself, with me, at the beginning, then she wouldn’t have got hurt.’

      ‘Wow. You’ve actually made me feel a little sorry for her.’ The colour was high on her cheeks and he opened his mouth to do what? Defend himself? No, to put her straight, but anything he might have said was drowned out as the pub’s PA system crackled into life with an announcement of that night’s quiz.

      Maddison straightened and looked around, her eyes bright like a child promised a treat. ‘Oh, I haven’t done a quiz since college. Do you want to...? I mean, we’ve barely started on the wine and there’s all that bread to eat.’

      Interesting. Kit sat back and looked at her; she was practically fizzing with anticipation. His mind flashed back to the completed crossword, to the way she had meticulously sorted every single problem that had come his way for the last four weeks. I wanted to be Nancy Drew, she had said.

      Could he trust her? It wasn’t just that he didn’t want any of his commercial rivals getting any hint of what he was up to; he didn’t want it known internally either. He didn’t want project-management groups and focus studies and sales input. That would come, but not yet. Not while he was enjoying the thrill of the new.

      ‘Maddison,’ he said slowly. ‘How would you like to be my guinea pig?’

      ‘Your what?’ She couldn’t have looked more outraged if he’d asked her if she wanted to eat a guinea pig.

      ‘Guinea pig. Testing out my new product.’

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘How very marketing friendly of you. I was under the impression that we produced books.’

      ‘Oh, we do. I do.’ He considered her for a moment longer. She didn’t really know anyone to tell and didn’t strike him as the gossiping type anyway. He should trust her. He hadn’t come this far without taking some risks.

      Kit had started his publishing career while still at Cambridge, republishing forgotten golden-age crime books for a nostalgic audience. Two years later he’d diversified into digital genre publishing before selling his company to DL Media for a tidy sum and an executive position. The sale had paid for his house and furnished him with a nice disposable income and a nest egg, but lately he’d been wondering if he’d sold his soul, not just his company.

      He had had no idea just how different things would be. The sole guy in charge of a small but growing company was a million miles away from a cog in a huge international corporation—even an executive cog. And although the perks and salary were nice—more than nice—he missed the adrenaline rush of ownership. This project was making his blood pump in almost the same way as building up his imprint had. While he was working on it he almost forgot everything else that had changed in the last few years.

      Maddison’s eyes were fixed on his face. ‘So what is this product?’

      Kit watched her every reaction. ‘Okay, so we produce entertainment and information. I am planning to marry the two together.’

      Maddison frowned. ‘And you want me to bless the happy couple?’

      ‘I want you to road-test them.’ He took a deep breath. He was going in. ‘I’m planning a series of new interactive guidebooks.’

      ‘Okay...’ Scepticism was written all over her face. ‘That’s interesting but does anyone even use guidebooks any more?’

      Kit had been expecting that. ‘Guidebooks available in every format from eBook to app to good old-fashioned paper copies.’

      ‘I still don’t see...’

      He took pity on her. ‘The difference is that they don’t tell you what to see, they give you clues. Each guidebook is a treasure hunt.’

      She leaned forward, a spark of interest lighting up her face, transforming her from merely pretty to glowingly beautiful. Not that Kit was interested in her looks. It was her brains he was after; he was certainly not focusing on how her eyes lit up when she was engaged or the way her blouse dipped a little lower as she shifted forward. ‘A treasure hunt? As in X marks the spot?’

      He tore his eyes away from her mouth. Focus, Buchanan. ‘In a way. Tourists can pick from one of five or so themed routes—historical, romantic, wild, fictional or a mixture of all the themes and follow a series of clues to their mystery destination, taking in places of interest on the way. Each theme will have routes of varying length ranging from an afternoon to three days, allowing people to adapt the treasure hunt to their length of stay, although I very much hope even cynical Londoners will want to have a go.’

      ‘Yes.’ She nodded slowly, her still-half-full plate pushed to one side as she took in every word. ‘I see, each hunt would have a unique theme depending on the place like, I don’t know, say a revolution theme in Boston? It wouldn’t just be tourists, though, would it? I mean, something like this would work for team building, bachelor and bachelorette parties, family days out...’ Satisfaction punched through him. She’d got it. ‘And what’s the prize—or is taking part enough?’

      ‘Hopefully the satisfaction of a job well done, but successful treasure hunters will also be able to pick up some discounts for local restaurants and attractions. I’m looking into building some partnerships. To launch it, however, I am planning real treasure—or a prize at least.’

      Maddison leaned back and picked up her wine glass. ‘And you want me to what? Source the prize for you?’

      Kit shook his head. ‘No, I want you to test the first few routes. The plan is to launch next year, simultaneously in five cities around the world. Each launch will open up on the same day and teams will compete against each other. But for now, in order to present a full proposal to marketing, we’ve been concentrating on drawing up the London routes—and I want to know how hard it is, especially to non-Brits, if the timings work and, crucially, if it’s fun.’

      ‘So, this will be part of my job?’

      Kit picked up his own glass; he was about to ask a lot from her. ‘We’re still very much in concept stage at the moment. This would be in your own time at weekends. But...’ he smiled directly at her, turning up the charm ‘...you said yourself you needed to get out and about...’

      ‘I didn’t say that at all. For all you know I am completely happy with takeaways and box sets. Maybe that’s the whole reason I took this job,’ she protested.

      He watched her carefully, looking for an advantage. ‘But you’re spending your weekends alone. I know the routes but not the clues so I want to see how it works in practice. I was going to go around on my own but here you are, new to London. A non-Brit. It’s perfect. You can follow the clues and I’ll accompany you and see how it works.’

      ‘I...’

      ‘I don’t expect you to do it for nothing,’

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