by M. L. Ray
She was scarfing down the pasta when her intercom buzzed. She frowned. “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
Oh. Fuck. Arturo. She’d completely forgotten about him. Mio Dio. “Hey, come on up.”
As she waited for him, she hurriedly hid her half-eaten bowl of spaghetti in a cupboard and grabbed the ingredients for their meal as if she were about to start preparing it.
Arturo appeared with a tiramisu and three bottles of champagne. “Hey, something smells good.”
Oh God… “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s the smell from Signora Verdi downstairs. No relation, before you ask. Her talent is definitely in the kitchen; she can cook up a dream. I’m just about to start cooking.”
“Need some help?”
Juno smiled at him. Arturo looked handsome in a dark navy sweater and jeans, his curls wild about his head. He really was sensational looking—so why couldn’t she feel what any red-blooded woman would feel for this man?
Levi Zapata…
Nope. Nah-uh. She pushed the thought of Levi away. It wasn’t just her stupid crush on her brother’s best friend, but the broken pieces of her that she couldn’t pick up from what Tudor Welch had done to her.
“Are we cooking?”
Arturo was smiling, his expression a little bemused as he looked at her and she realized she had zoned out again. “Of course. Sorry.”
Arturo was actually a lot of fun in the kitchen, singing along with her radio and dancing around her as he helped peel, chop and slice the ingredients for their meal. He chopped the chilies, daring her to eat some raw, and she took the challenge like a champ, admitting she loved them as hot as she could get them.
“The ghost pepper?”
She made a dismissive noise. “Child’s play.”
“Moruga Scorpion?”
“Pah.”
“Carolina Reaper?”
Juno waved her spatula at him. “Now that one, I haven’t tried. I’ve seen some of the challenges on the internet, and seen some people trying to eat them on the Food Network, but I can’t get hold of them. Maybe I should have gone for it when I was in America.”
“You’ve been to the States?”
She nodded and looked away from him. “Just for two months. A scholarship at Julliard.”
“Wow.”
“It was okay. I was homesick a lot.”
“Nowhere like Italy.”
She smiled at him. “Amen to that.”
They made the food together and carried it out to the tiny balcony, balancing it on their knees to eat. Arturo looked around. “This really is a lovely place to live.”
“All thanks to Ferdie,” Juno said, “he really was a good brother, despite everything.” She felt better about saying that now, felt okay with talking to Arturo about him. “The drugs… we all have our weaknesses.”
Arturo met her gaze. “Yes,” he said softly, “we all do.”
Juno swallowed her pasta and looked away, knowing her face was flushing red. “So…”
“So, phase two of our project?”
Juno let out a relieved laugh. “Yes.”
“Well, I got a tip about a place on Murano we could use, an abandoned glass factory. It got gutted by a fire a few years back and so far, no-one’s been back to it. I called the owner, he’s okay with it. I thought it would be bellissimo for our shoot. We’ll string lights around the rubble, hopefully it will catch the fragments of glass left. Make it magical.”
“It sounds like it.”
Arturo smiled at her. “You’ll look like an angel. But, being practical, we’ll also have to be careful of the glass on your feet.”
“Ha. I’m sure we can make it work.” Juno chuckled shyly. She was excited at the prospect of the setting.
Arturo grinned. “Hey, you want to see some proof of our first session?”
She nodded, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Easier than carrying my gear around with me.” He moved his chair closer and showed her the pictures.
“Is that really me?”
He’d shot her in such a way that she looked ethereal, otherworldly against the decay of the surrounding setting. As Arturo flicked through each photo, Juno became more comfortable seeing herself like that.
“This is my favorite. The light is perfect.”
The setting sun shone through a gap in the ruins and was reflected in Juno’s eyes. The shot was a close up of her face and she could see every fine line, every smooth curve of her skin. The sun’s orange rays made her brown eyes look like molten gold, surrounded by her thick, black lashes.
“You are so very beautiful,” Arturo said softly, “but I don’t think you know it.”
Juno met his gaze. “Beauty is fleeting, and it isn’t something I aspire to. I want my mind to be celebrated, not my face.”
“Forgive me but that’s a naïve way of looking at the world. Sure, when people get to know you, they’ll see those things and you’ll become even more beautiful to them. But this,” he took her chin between his finger and thumb, “don’t underestimate the power of it. I’ve known people who do just that and they fall, Juno. They fall.”
Juno didn’t know what to say to that. His eyes were on hers then and when he kissed her, the fear that had struck her the last time was missing. Did she want it to be Arturo she was kissing? This time, she didn’t know, but it felt nice to be kissed, to be wanted, and for once, for the first time since Tudor, she wasn’t afraid.
When the kiss ended, she felt bereft. Arturo smiled at her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Probably not but it’s okay.”
He trailed a fingertip down her cheek. “What happened, Juno? I mean, I know something must have happened to you. Who was it?”
The change in her mood was abrupt and shocking. Juno pulled away from him and stood up. “I think I need to get some sleep,” she said, shortly, not looking him in the eye.
Arturo nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll go.”
At the door, she stopped him. “I don’t mean to be rude.”
He kissed her cheek. “You’re not. Goodnight, piccolo. We’ll talk soon.”
When Arturo had gone, Juno stood listening to the silence of her apartment. She had so desperately wanted to be alone but now…
There was only one person she wanted to talk to tonight, and she didn’t think about it, she just grabbed her jacket, tugging it on as she ran out of her apartment and down the street below.
Venice was quiet, and the sense of menace it could hold after dark was all around her tonight.
Still Juno took no notice of any perceived or actual threats. She just wanted to get to his hotel, to see if he would talk to her.
Once inside the foyer, she looked around for anyone who might stop her, then darted to the elevator. Of course, he was in the penthouse. When she reached his floor, she tapped quietly at the door, her heart thumping.
When the door opened, she smiled at him. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. I just wanted to talk.”
He stared at her for a long minute and for an awful moment, she thought he might send her away.
But then Levi smiled and held the door open for her. “Come on in, sweetheart. We can talk all night if you want.”
Chapter Twelve
Seattle, Washington
Anouk swung Tab into her arms as the little girl greeted her. “Hey, pickle.”
“Hey, Momma. Guess what?”
“What?”
“Me and Auntie Martha went on an adventure today.”
“You did?” Anouk grinned at Martha, who was rolling her eyes.
“Tab says it was an adventure… the rest of the world says we went to the new Target.”
Anouk snorted with laughter and hugged Tab. “My little shopaholic.”
“We did get some good girl-food for our pajama party though,” Martha said, opening a cupboard and indicating a heap of potato chips, bags of candy and other goodies.
>
“Nice.” Anouk set Tabitha down and took her coat off. Knox was in London, meeting with a gallery, and so Nook, Martha and Tab had a girl’s night in planned. Martha took a sheet of cookies out of the oven as Anouk hovered around, already hungry. Martha grinned at her friend. “Dinner, first, Nook.”
“Yes, Mom.” The word came out before Anouk could stop herself and she immediately grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Martha patted her arm. “It doesn’t hurt me to be called that, I promise. I am a Mom, still. Or Mum. I am English.”
Anouk grinned. “Right.” She couldn’t help glancing over at Tab. She couldn’t imagine a world without her now and every time she thought of Martha’s dead children…
“How’s the bean? Any morning sickness yet?”
“A little nausea but apart from that. I’m tired, though.”
“Why don’t you go grab a shower while I cook dinner?”
Anouk smiled at her. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Sisters, remember?”
“Always.”
Anouk went upstairs and stripped off. Glancing in the mirror before she stepped into the shower, she tried to see if her tiny bump had grown any bigger. “Nope. You’re a small one, kiddo.”
She showered and was drying her hair when her cell phone rang. She frowned, not recognizing the number. “Hello?”
For a moment no-one spoke and Anouk wondered if the caller had got the wrong number. Her thumb hovered over the End button but then she heard him… or her speak. It was a low, rough whisper. “Get her out.”
“Excuse me?”
“The English woman. She’s sick, she’s dangerous. She wants you dead, Anouk.”
Anouk ended the call and dropped her phone on the bed, not out of fright but of disgust. So, some asshole who knew all about the story of her, Martha and Shawn. They’d had calls like this before, calls, letters, even once, a crazy woman had turned up at the gallery, demanding to see Anouk, telling her she’d read her Tarot and she was going to die young.
“Yeah, someone’s already tried. Twice.” Anouk hadn’t been impressed. “Now, please leave before I call the police.”
This was the first time someone had mentioned Martha though, at least directly. Anouk blew out her cheeks, ignoring the tension in her shoulders. She went to the stairs, looking down into the open living space downstairs, watching Tab helping out Martha, dumping potato chips and popcorn into big bowls. Martha chatted easily with the girl, and Anouk smiled. Martha was as much a part of their family now as anyone. She had nothing to fear from her friend.
Their evening was fun, and although Tab ate way more sugar than she was usually allowed, she still fell asleep way before her specially extended bedtime. She lay across Martha as the two adults watched a movie, then when she got sleepy, she shifted to her mother’s arms, tucking her little dark head into the crook of Anouk’s neck.
Martha grinned over at her. “She really is the cutest.”
“Ha, I’m biased but yes. I wonder how she’ll be with the new baby.”
“She’s so excited. She never stops talking about him or her.” Martha’s smile faltered a little. “Nook… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happens when the baby comes.”
“What about it?”
Martha smiled. “You’re the sweetest, but you and Knox must have discussed whether you want me around after the baby is born.”
Anouk blinked. “Of course we do, Martha. You’re part of this family now.”
“Nook.” Martha seemed to be struggling with something. “I know you panicked, leaving Tab with me that day you collapsed.”
“I was in no fit state to judge any situation. It was the first time I had been away from her.” But Anouk knew she couldn’t lie to her friend. “Look, sure, I had pause, just for a second. And… I do wonder if it’ll be too upsetting for you to be around a baby. But you’re so good with Tab. I trust you completely.”
Martha smiled but Nook could tell she wasn’t convinced. “Martha, I know sometimes you get upset at night. I mean, I’m not snooping, but sometimes I hear you crying.” She looked down. “Sometimes I hear you saying you hate somebody.”
Martha was quiet. Nook reached out and took her hand. “If you have any resentment left towards me…”
“No!” Martha’s hand flew to her mouth as her shout made Tabitha stir and grumble in her sleep. “Sorry, sorry. God, Nook, you have been the person who saved me from… everything. From despair. I admit, when I first found out about you, I was angry—who wouldn’t be? And the same for you, I’m sure.”
“Well… it was Shawn who did this to us.”
Martha nodded. “I’m stuck, is all. I’m so grateful for what you and Knox have done for me and being here with you and Tab has helped me heal. I just need to move forward with my life and I feel stuck. Every time I think of a way I can rebuild, I hear his voice in my head, telling me I’m not good enough.”
“Oh, Martha.” Anouk was dismayed and took her friend’s hand. “You can do anything you set your mind to. I have never even asked… what did you do before you met Shawn?”
Martha smiled suddenly. “I was a musician. A cellist.”
Anouk was astonished. “Really?”
“See? That life seems so far away to me. I was in a small orchestra in London, not one of the big named troupes, but I loved it. Loved that life. When I got pregnant, Shawn persuaded me to give up. I should have known then.”
“It’s never too late.”
Martha smiled. “I don’t know. I haven’t picked up an instrument in years.”
Their conversation was interrupted then by Tabitha waking up, grumpy and sniveling and Anouk putting her daughter to bed. As she carried Tab upstairs, Martha quietly said goodnight and went to her own room.
Anouk settled Tabitha in her bed, stroking her daughter’s silky hair until she was asleep again, thinking about what Martha had told her. She felt bad for the other woman but remembered how Shawn had persuaded Anouk to rein in her ambitions to have his children. Thankfully, she’d found out about Martha before she left her career path.
Asshole. Anouk was irritated as she climbed into bed. Even now, six years after his death, Shawn was still looming large over Martha’s life. Fuck that. No more.
When Knox called a few minutes later, they swapped news of their day and then Anouk told him what Martha had said. “There must be something we can do to help her.”
“There will be, baby. Just let me get home and we’ll look into it.”
Anouk loved that Knox was always confident about these things—it made her relax a little. “We will?”
“Sure thing. Like you always say, Martha is family and we always help family.”
Anouk chuckled. “I love you, Knox Zapata. Have you heard from Levi?”
“I have, although he seems pretty tied up with this girl he knows.”
“The ballerina?”
“Yup. Apparently, she’s helping him decorate his new place.”
“I’m jealous of that place—it’s gorgeous.”
Knox laughed. “I know, but he says we can go over whenever we want. He’s… I think he might be a little in love.”
“With Juno Martello?”
“It’s hard to say because Levi keeps things close to his chest, but when he talks about her…”
“What?”
Knox laughed softly. “He sounds like me when I talk about you.”
***
Venice, Italy
Levi darted forward to catch Juno as she wobbled on the chair she was standing on. “Woah, steady.”
His arms were around her waist and he steadied her. “I really don’t want you breaking a limb just to paint my ceiling.”
Juno grinned. Her face was streaked with white and her dark hair, in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, was flecked with paint. She hooked an arm around Levi’s neck as he lifted her to the floor, only let
ting go when she was steady on the ground. “We’re almost done.”
They studied the large living room of his new apartment. His furniture was covered in dust sheets but when the painting was done, he would be completely moved in. Levi went to open the large French windows out onto the balcony, letting in the swirl of warm air and the noise from the canal. He turned back and smiled at Juno. “Hungry?”
“Always.”
They cleaned up and went down to the streets below, finding a small café to eat in. They chatted, the atmosphere between them easy and full of laughter.
Since the night Juno had appeared at his door, it had been like this between them. They’d stayed up all night talking, Juno about her brother, about her experience in New York. She had told him a little of her distress about seeing Tudor Welch in Venice, but Levi was sure, not the whole story. But he sensed she would, that she was here now testing the water, seeing if he could be the person who she confided in the most.
And Levi told Juno about how he’d always struggled to find his place in the world as something other than ‘the reliable son’, always in the shadow of his father, or his more gregarious siblings. “Don’t get me wrong, I adore Knox and Flynn. But sometimes…”
“Sometimes you need something for you.” Juno finished his sentence, and he nodded, grinning.
“Exactly. Does that make me selfish?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I know all about being in a sibling’s shadow.”
“I can’t imagine that. You being in Ferdie’s shadow, I mean, not with your success.”
Juno had smiled. “I’m in the corps de ballet in a small company. I’m not sure success is the right word.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Look at what Arturo saw in you… with his talent, he’ll make you a star.”
“A real-life Pygmalion.” Juno said quietly, her smile fading.
“What? What is it?”
She shook her head. “Arturo’s great, he really is, but… there’s something about him.”
“What do you mean? Has he overstepped with you?” Levi felt a jolt of shock. Surely not…
