скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Well, then.’
‘I know what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m not thinking anything.’
‘Yes, you are,’ Scarlett said, mentally rolling her eyes. ‘You’re thinking what you thought when you said goodbye to me at the airport four years ago—that I would fall in love like you did with a totally unsuitable man and ruin my life.’ Which is pretty much what I did do, she thought ruefully.
Lenore let out a sigh. ‘It’s just I can’t help worrying about you,’ she said. ‘You’re not streetwise like Sophie.’
‘You make me sound like a naïve infant.’
‘In many ways you are, Scarlett,’ Lenore said, her tone softening with maternal concern. ‘You are so trusting of people. I think that’s why you ended up with a child out of wedlock. You and I are alike in that sense. We think the best of people when they’re not worthy of it. You have to toughen up, love. I’ve had to—I wouldn’t have survived if I hadn’t.’
Scarlett let out a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘I know.’
‘Have you told Sophie about this…this horrible man?’
‘Alessandro’s not a horrible man,’ Scarlett said in his defence. ‘He’s Matthew’s father.’
‘He doesn’t want the role, Scarlett, so there’s no point in thrusting it upon him. Some men are like that, your father being a case in point. You’d be better to move on without him, for Matthew’s sake.’
Scarlett knew her mother was right, but a part of her—the part where her pride was stored—wanted Alessandro to accept his son as his own. She felt as if she couldn’t move forward until he did. It was like a wrinkle in a carpet—it was going to be a tripping point until it was smoothed out.
‘I know how hard it’s been for you,’ Lenore said. ‘You were in a terrible state when you came home from Italy.’ Her voice broke as she continued. ‘I sometimes think if it wasn’t for Roxanne’s support in getting your business up and running you would have given up all hope and…done something drastic…’
‘Mum…’
Her mother sniffed. ‘It’s true, darling. You were so thin and run down. But we all assumed you were grieving.’
‘I was.’ And I still am, she added silently. ‘It felt like a death at the time.’
‘Break ups are like that,’ Lenore said. ‘The only difference in this case is there’s still a body to deal with.’
And what a body, Scarlett thought, recalling how Alessandro had felt under the touch of her hands.
‘Will you be all right dealing with this man on a day to day basis?’
Scarlett felt her stomach tremble again at the thought. ‘I think so.’
‘I’m worried about you.’
‘I appreciate your concern,’ Scarlett said with heartfelt sincerity. ‘But I can handle Alessandro Marciano. He’s a part of my past—he has nothing to do with my future.’
‘He might have more to do with your future if he suddenly realises he has a son,’ Lenore pointed out. ‘What if he meets Matthew some time in the future?’
Scarlett pressed her lips together. ‘He doesn’t want to meet him, and to tell you the truth I’m starting to think he doesn’t deserve to, for what he’s put me through.’
‘It’s understandable that you’re angry with him,’ Lenore said. ‘But think how dreadful it would be if you still felt something for him.’
There was another short but loaded silence.
‘You don’t still care for him, do you, Scarlett?’ her mother asked with an anxious edge to her tone.
‘No, Mum. I feel nothing but hatred towards Alessandro Marciano,’ she said, trying not to think of how his mouth had felt on hers earlier that day. ‘I will never forgive him—ever.’
‘Why did you agree to take on this project if you loathe him so much?’ Lenore asked.
‘I’ve worked for difficult clients before.’
‘You will be careful, won’t you, love?’
‘Mum, stop worrying about me. I know what I’m doing.’
‘How much is he paying you?’
‘A lot.’
‘How much?’
‘Enough,’ Scarlett answered. ‘I’ll be able to get into the black with my business loan.’
Lenore sighed. ‘I wish I’d been able to help you a bit more, but my welfare payment is hardly enough to live on and—’
‘Mum, stop it. We’ve been through this a hundred times before. I’m twenty-six years old, far too grown up and independent to be taking money off my mother.’
‘I know, sweetheart, but Sophie’s done so well, I just wish—’
‘Mum, this is me you’re talking to, not Sophie. I want different things for my life. I would go crazy living like Sophie does. I hate coffee mornings and bridge parties. I don’t want or need a rich husband and designer clothes to feel good about myself.’
‘I know that, darling, but sometimes I wish you were a bit more established financially,’ Lenore said. ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if you could find a nice man to settle down with, perhaps have another child, a little half-brother or sister for Matthew?’
Scarlett closed her eyes as she fought against the ambivalence of her feelings. She had one child, a perfect little son who was the image of his father. She wasn’t ready to think of having another child by another man. The few dates she had been more or less coerced into by her sister had confirmed she wasn’t quite ready to move on.
‘Scarlett?’
‘I’m OK, Mum, really,’ Scarlett reassured her. ‘It’s just been a heck of a day, that’s all.’
‘Yes, love, of course it has,’ Lenore responded. ‘It must have been so hard seeing him again.’
‘Yes… Yes, it was…’
There was a small silence.
‘Scarlett?’
‘It’s all right, Mum. I’m not in any danger of making the same mistake twice.’
‘I know, but history has a habit of repeating itself, as you know from my experience. I took your father back, and while I’m glad I did, because it meant you were born as a result of our brief reconciliation, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt all over again.’
‘I’m not going to allow myself to get hurt,’ Scarlett said with a confidence she didn’t really feel. ‘I’ve grown up in the last four years, Mum. I’m not going to get my heart broken again.’
A courier arrived mid-morning with the floor plans of the hotel, but there was no accompanying note inside. Scarlett knew it was inconsistent of her to feel so out of sorts, for she was the one who had insisted it was a business deal and nothing else.
She spent the rest of the day worrying that Alessandro would walk in the door of her studio, and yet as she shut her computer down at five p.m. she felt strangely disappointed and aggrieved that he hadn’t.
Matthew was tired, but excited when she picked him up from crèche when she told him his granny was going to babysit him that evening.
‘I drewed you a picture,’ he announced proudly, unrolling the piece of art paper he had in his hands.
Scarlett smiled as she looked at the bright smudges of paint. ‘Wow, that’s beautiful, darling. What is it?’
‘It’s a cat like Tinkles, only not dead.’
Scarlett frowned as she thought about how she had handled the recent death of their neighbour’s cat. She had couched it in euphemistic terms, but it seemed Matthew had understood it in his own way.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Can you do one for Mrs West as well? I’m sure she’d love to have a reminder of Tinkles.’
‘Can we get a cat?’ he asked as they came to the car. ‘Or what about a puppy? I’d love a puppy.’
‘Darling, we live in a flat,’ she said. ‘It would be cruel to have a kitten or puppy locked up inside all day.’
His little face fell in disappointment. ‘But Mrs West had a cat.’
‘I know, but Tinkles was very old and used to living inside, and Mrs West was home with him all day so he never got lonely.’
‘What about a daddy?’ he asked after a moment. ‘Can we have one of those?’
Scarlett disguised her shock by concentrating on unlocking the car and settling him into his car seat. ‘I’m not sure about that, sweetie.’
‘I wish my real one wasn’t dead,’ he said as he wriggled into the seat and automatically lifted up his arms so she could snap the restraining belt in place. ‘What if we prayed to God and asked him to make him come alive again?’
She had to look away from those big hazel eyes. ‘I’ve prayed and prayed, darling, but it’s not going to happen.’
‘I’m still going to pray,’ his little voice piped up from the back seat as she got behind the wheel a few moments later.
Scarlett met his beautiful green-brown gaze in the rear-view mirror and smiled, even though it hurt. ‘Let’s hope God is listening,’ she said, and took the turn towards home.
Dylan saw Scarlett as soon as she came in the door of his restaurant and, smiling broadly, embraced her in a solid hug. ‘It’s so good to see you, Scarlett. I was thrilled when I looked at the bookings and saw you and Roxanne had booked in for tonight. It’s been a few months since I saw you both. My fault more than yours, so don’t start apologising. I’ve been a bit antisocial since Olivia left.’
‘I understand,’ Scarlett said, returning his hug.
‘So how’s the business and Roxanne?’
‘I’m expecting her any minute,’ Scarlett said. ‘She’s probably having trouble parking. I had to shoehorn my way into the tiniest spot.’
Dylan smiled. ‘Let’s have a quick drink together while you wait for her,’ he suggested, and signalled for the drinks waiter. ‘The apprentice chef I have is brilliant, so I can trust him to hold the fort for a few minutes. The dinner crowd hasn’t trickled in yet.’
After two glasses of champagne were set down in front of them, he asked, ‘How’s Matthew?’
‘He’s good,’ she said with a smile. ‘Growing up all the time.’
‘He’s a cute kid,’ Dylan said. ‘I loved those photos you emailed me a while ago.’
Scarlett wondered if she should say something about Alessandro, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a tall figure stoop slightly as he came into the bar area with an attractive, willowy blonde on his arm.
‘What’s wrong?’ Dylan asked, leaning forward in concern.
Scarlett swallowed the bitter taste of bile in her throat. ‘Er…nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew, that’s all.’
Dylan glanced towards the entrance. ‘That’s Velika Vanovic, the model everyone is talking about. See how popular you’ve made me?’ he said, turning back to smile at Scarlett. ‘Everyone famous or high profile wants to come here and enjoy the ambiance.’
‘I think I’ve seen her on a billboard, she’s very beautiful…’ Scarlett answered feebly, staring at the bubbles in her glass, hoping the knives of jealousy currently attacking her insides would soon disappear.
‘The man with her seems vaguely familiar,’ Dylan commented, frowning slightly. ‘I wonder where I’ve seen him before…. Hey, isn’t he that guy you were seeing in Milan?’ He swung his gaze back to her in confusion. ‘Scarlett, didn’t you tell us he was dead?’
She shifted position in the hope that Alessandro wouldn’t see her. ‘I can explain…’
‘Oh look, they’re coming this way.’
Scarlett felt her stomach clench as Alessandro and the glamourous model approached.
‘Good evening, Scarlett,’ Alessandro said, running his gaze over her appraisingly. ‘What a coincidence, seeing you here like this.’
Scarlett rose with Dylan from the sofa. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It is.’
Dylan offered a hand to Alessandro with a pleasant smile. ‘Hello, Alessandro. It’s been a long time. What, nearly four years?’
For a moment Scarlett wondered if Alessandro was going to ignore Dylan’s outstretched hand, but after what was probably only a nano-second of hesitation he took it and shook it cursorily. ‘Yes, something like that,’ he said, his eyes flicking towards Scarlett with an inscrutable look. ‘Velika, this is Scarlett Fitzpatrick, the interior designer I was telling you about. Scarlett, this is Velika Vanovic.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Scarlett said, and took the other woman’s cold, thin hand briefly.
‘Likewise,’ Velika said in a husky tone, although the chill of her light-brown eyes belied her comment.
‘So,’ Dylan smiled pleasantly. ‘You’re here for dinner as well?’
‘Yes,’ Alessandro said, his gaze shifting to take in the twin glasses of champagne on the coffee table.
Scarlett felt the scorch of Alessandro’s gaze as it met hers; she felt as if every layer of her skin was being lasered off by the heat of it. She knew what he was thinking; she could see it in the rigidness of his jaw. In spite of her assurances to the contrary, Alessandro had always been convinced Dylan had designs on her. He had only met him once or twice, as Dylan, Jessica and Joe had been keen to get on with their tour. But Scarlett knew that finding her here sharing a drink with Dylan was hardly going to convince Alessandro that nothing but platonic friendship bound them to each other.
‘I hope you enjoy your evening with us,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll organise the head waiter to see you to your table, unless you would like a drink in the lounge first?’
‘Thank you, but I think we will go straight to our table,’ Alessandro said. ‘Velika and I have somewhere else to go after dinner.’
To bed, most likely, Scarlett thought with another sickening wave of jealousy.
Alessandro looked down at her as if he could read her thoughts. ‘Enjoy your evening, Scarlett.’
‘We will,’ she answered with a little hitch of her chin.
