Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘So—will you come? You’ll have lots of free time to take photos, and it’s beautiful at this time of year. You can chill out away from all this, get some thinking time, clear your head, work out what you’re going to do next. Maybe work on a portfolio of images, if that’s where you think you’re going.’

  It sounded tempting. Very tempting, and she could see that he quite genuinely needed her help. He wasn’t just making it up—and anyway, even if he was, did she have a better choice? No. And to stay here another minute was unthinkable.

  She could hear the sounds of people thronging outside in the garden—not their garden, but his parents’ garden next door, where the marquee had been set up for the reception.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes locked on his. ‘Oh, Leo! All that food...!’

  She was swamped with guilt, but he shook his head briskly, brushing it aside as if it was nothing. Which it wasn’t, far from it.

  ‘It’s not wasted. There are lots of people there to eat it, it’s fine.’

  ‘Fine?’ It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine, and all of a sudden she was overwhelmed again. ‘It was supposed to be a wedding present from you, and I didn’t even have the wedding.’

  ‘Oh, Amy,’ he sighed, and pulled her head back down against his shoulder, soothing her as the tears spilled down her cheeks yet again and the enormity of what she’d done, the chaos she’d caused, the things she’d walked away from, gradually sank in and left her breathless with guilt and remorse.

  ‘I can’t even pay you back,’ she choked out, but he tutted softly and cradled her head against that solid, familiar shoulder that felt so good she could have stayed there for ever.

  ‘Hush. You don’t need to. Forget it, Amy, it’s the least important thing in the world right now. Don’t worry about it.’

  She pushed herself up, swiping the tears off her cheeks with her palms. ‘But I am worried about it! At least let me pay you back for it when I get a job.’

  If she ever did. Publishing was in a state of flux, and she’d just walked away from a great career in a really good publishing house because she’d thought she’d have financial security with Nick and could afford to try freelancing with her photography, and now she had nothing! No job, no home, no husband, no future—and all because of some vague sense of unease? She must have been mad—

  ‘OK, so here’s the deal,’ he said, cutting off her tumbling thoughts with a brisk, no-nonsense tone. ‘Come to Tuscany with me. Look after Ella while I’m in meetings, so I can work all day with a clear conscience and still put her to bed every night, and we’ll call it quits.’

  ‘Quits? Are you crazy? I know what your outside catering costs, Leo!’

  He gave her a wry grin. ‘There’s a substantial mark-up. The true cost is nothing like the tariff. And you know how precious my daughter is to me. Nothing could be more important than leaving her with someone I can trust while I’m over there.’

  He gripped her hands, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Come with us, look after her while I’m in meetings, have a holiday, some time out while you work out what to do next. And take photos for me—pictures of me cooking, of the produce, the region, the markets—all of it. Your photos are brilliant, and I can use them for my blog. That would be really valuable to me, so much more professional, and certainly something I’d pay good money for. I usually do it myself and blag people into taking photos of me with chefs and market traders and artisans, and if I’m really stuck I get reduced to taking selfies, and that’s so not a good look!’

  She laughed, a funny little sound between a chuckle and a sob that she quickly stifled, and he hugged her again.

  ‘Come on. Do this for me—please? It would be so helpful I can’t tell you, and it’ll get you away from all this. You’re exhausted and you need to get away, have a total change of scene. And I need you, Amy. I’m not making it up. Not for the photos, they’re just a valuable added bonus, but for Ella, and I can’t put a price on her safety and happiness.’

  She searched his eyes again, and saw behind the reassuringly calm exterior that he was telling her the truth. He wasn’t just being kind to her, he really was in a jam, and he’d never ever asked her for help, although God knows he’d given her enough over the years, bailing her out of umpteen scrapes.

  Not to mention the catering.

  No. She had no choice—and she realised she didn’t want a choice. She wanted to be with Leo. His sound common sense was exactly what she needed to get her through this, and let’s face it, she thought, he’s had enough practice at dealing with me and my appalling life choices.

  She nodded. ‘OK. I’ll come—of course I’ll come, and I’ll help you with Ella and take photos and do whatever else I can while you’re there. It’ll be a pleasure to help you, and it’s high time I gave you something back. On one condition, though.’

  ‘Which is?’ he asked warily.

  ‘I help you with her care when the filming starts—take some of the burden off your parents. Then I’ll call it quits.’

  ‘That’s a big commitment.’

  ‘I know that, but that’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’

  His shoulders dropped, relief written all over him, and she felt some of the tension leave her, too.

  ‘I’ll take it. And thank you, Amy. Thank you so much.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Do you have a case packed ready to go?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got smart-casual, beach, jeans—will that do?’

  He nodded and got to his feet. ‘Sounds fine. I’ll get Ella’s stuff together and we’ll go. I’m not sure, but we might even be able to fly out today.’

  ‘Today!’

  ‘Is that a problem?’

  She shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Not at all. The sooner the better. I was just surprised. I thought you said you were going tomorrow.’

  ‘I was, but today would be better and I seem to be unexpectedly free now,’ he added, that wry grin tugging at his mouth and making her want to hug him. ‘I’ll see what I can do. How soon can you be ready?’

  She shrugged. ‘Half an hour? Twenty minutes, maybe?’

  ‘OK. I’ll call if there’s a problem. Don’t forget your passport—and your camera.’

  ‘In my bag. Just do one thing for me before you go. Get me out of this dress? I’d forgotten all the stupid buttons.’

  She scrambled to her feet and turned her back to him, and he began undoing the million and one tiny satin buttons and loops that covered the zip underneath. And as he worked, button by button, he became suddenly, intensely aware of the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders, the fine line of her neck, the slender column of her throat. He could see a pulse beating under the skin at the side, and feel the tension coming off her. Off him, too, but for an entirely different reason. Crazy. This was Amy, for goodness’ sake! She was his childhood best friend, virtually his sister!

  He finally freed the last button and slid the concealed zip down, and she caught the dress against her chest and turned to face him, a peep of cleavage above some transparent lacy undergarment taking him by surprise. He hauled his eyes up away from it, shocked by the sudden heat that flared through his body.

  Really?

  Amy?

  He backed up a step. ‘OK now?’ he asked tersely, his throat tight.

  ‘Yes. Thank you. I’ll get changed and see you downstairs in a few minutes.’

  ‘Good. Wear something comfortable for travelling.’ Preferably something that covered her up. He backed away further, turning on his heel and reaching for the door handle, suddenly desperate to get out of there.

  ‘Leo?’

  Her voice checked him and he turned and looked at her over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in question.

  ‘I’m starving. Grab some food to take with us, would you?’

  Food? He laughed, letting some of the t
ension go. Food was easy. Food he could do.

  ‘Sure. See you in a bit.’

  He called the catering manager on the way down the stairs, rang his mother to prime her and went into the kitchen.

  Three pairs of eyes locked on him instantly. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’ll do. Jill, can you help her get ready? I’m taking her to Tuscany with me and we’re leaving as soon as possible. I’m trying to get a flight this afternoon.’

  ‘Tuscany? Brilliant, it’s just what she needs.’ She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, Leo. Bless you. She’ll be ready.’

  * * *

  It was tight.

  While he packed he rang the charter company he used from time to time, and found they had a small jet flying to Florence for a pick-up; he could hire the whole plane for the ‘empty leg’ rate, but it was leaving City Airport at three. And it was twelve forty already.

  Tight, but doable, if she was ready to go. He rang to warn her, loaded the car in no time flat and drove straight round there, reaching the front door as Amy opened it.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said, her smile a little forced in her pale face, her eyes still red-rimmed, but there was life in them now, unlike the blank eyes of the woman he’d walked down the aisle less than an hour ago. Sure, she was hanging by a thread, but she’d make it, especially once he’d got her out of here, and he was suddenly fiercely glad that he’d managed to convince her to come with him.

  ‘Got your passport?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve got everything. What’s the luggage limit?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘There isn’t one. It’s a private charter.’

  Her jaw dropped slightly. ‘Private—?’

  He pushed her chin up gently with an index finger and smiled at her stunned expression. ‘It’s going on an empty leg to pick someone up—I’m only paying a fraction of the normal charge.’ Which was still extortionate, but she didn’t need to know that.

  ‘Wow. Great. OK.’ She turned to her mother, hugged her hard, hugged her bridesmaids and got in the car.

  ‘Thank you, Leo,’ Jill called, and he lifted a hand as he slid behind the wheel and closed the door.

  ‘Did you get food?’ Amy asked, and he leant over into the back and pulled out an insulated bag.

  ‘Here. You can feed me en route.’

  ‘Or I might just eat it all.’

  ‘Piglet. Buckle up,’ he instructed, but she was there already, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, the eyes that kept flicking to his filled with a welter of emotions that he couldn’t begin to analyse. He didn’t suppose she could, either, but there seemed to be a glimmer of something that could have been excitement.

  He smiled at her, and she smiled back, but it was a fleeting parody of her usual open, happy smile, and he felt another sudden pang of guilt. What if it wasn’t excitement? What if it was hysteria? She was on a knife-edge, he knew that. Had he imposed his own feelings about marriage on her? Put doubts in her mind when they hadn’t really been there at all? He hoped not—even if Nick hadn’t been right for her, it wasn’t his call to sabotage their wedding.

  ‘You OK?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes—or I will be, just as soon as we get out of here.’

  ‘Let’s go, then,’ he said, and starting the engine he pulled smoothly off the drive and headed for London.

  * * *

  Amy had never flown in such luxury.

  From start to finish, boarding the little jet had been a breeze. They’d driven right up to the Jet Centre terminal, their luggage and the baby’s car seat and buggy were handed over, and the car had been whisked away to secure parking. The security check-in was thorough but almost instant, and then they had a short walk to the plane.

  At the top of the steps the pilot greeted them by name as he welcomed them aboard, gave them their ETA, a benign weather report and told them there was a car waiting for them at Florence. Then he disappeared through the galley area into the cockpit and closed the door, leaving them with the entire little jet to themselves, and for the first time she registered her surroundings.

  ‘Wow.’ She felt her jaw dropping slightly, and no wonder. It was like another world, a world she’d never entered before or even dreamed of.

  There were no endless rows of seating, no central aisle barely wide enough to pass through, no hard-wearing gaudy seat fabric in a budget airline’s colours. Instead, there were two small groups of pale leather seats, the ones at the rear bracketing tables large enough to set up a laptop, play games, eat a meal, or simply flick through a magazine and glance out of the window. And Ella’s car seat was securely strapped in all ready for her.

  Leo headed that way and she followed, the tight, dense pile of the carpet underfoot making her feel as if she was walking on air. Maybe she was? Maybe they’d already taken off and she just hadn’t noticed? Or maybe it was all part of the weird, dreamlike state she’d been in ever since she’d turned her back on Nick and walked away.

  A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she grabbed the back of one of the seats to steady herself and felt Leo’s hand at her waist, steering her to a seat at the back of the plane across the aisle from Ella’s.

  ‘Sit. And don’t argue,’ he added firmly.

  She didn’t argue. She was beyond arguing. She just sat obediently like a well-trained Labrador, sinking into the butter-soft cream leather as her legs gave way, watching him while he strapped little Ella into her seat, his big hands gentle and competent as he assembled the buckle and clicked it firmly into place.

  She hoped she never had to do it. It looked extraordinarily complicated for something so simple, and she was suddenly swamped with doubts about her ability to do this.

  What on earth did she know about babies? Less than nothing. You could write it all in capitals on the head of a very small pin. He must be nuts to trust her with his child.

  She heard voices as a man and woman in uniform came up the steps and into the plane, and moments later the door was shut and the woman was approaching them with a smile, her hand extended.

  ‘Mr Zacharelli.’

  Leo shook her hand and returned the smile. ‘Julie, isn’t it? We’ve flown together before.’

  ‘We have, sir. It’s a pleasure to welcome you and Ella on board again, and Miss Driver, I believe? I’m your cabin crew today, and if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.’

  She smiled at Amy as they shook hands, and turned her attention back to Leo.

  ‘May I go through the pre-flight safety procedure with you?’ she asked, and he delved into the baby’s bag and handed Ella a crackly, brightly coloured dragonfly toy to distract her while Julie launched into the familiar spiel.

  It took a few minutes, showing them the overhead oxygen, the emergency exit—all the usual things, but with the massive difference that she was talking only to them, and the smiles she gave were personal. Especially to Leo, Amy thought, and mentally rolled her eyes at yet another effortless conquest on his part. He probably wasn’t even aware of it.

  And then it was done, another smile flashed in his direction, and Julie took herself off and left them alone.

  ‘Was that from me?’ Amy asked, pointing at the dragonfly toy Ella was happily playing with.

  Leo nodded, sending her a fleeting smile. ‘You sent her it when she was born. She loves it. I have to take it everywhere with us.’

  That made her smile. At least she’d done one thing right, then, in the last year or so. He zipped the bag up, stashed it in the baggage compartment, put her hand luggage in there, too, and sat down opposite Ella and across from Amy.

  His tawny gold eyes searched hers thoughtfully.

  ‘You OK now?’

  If you don’t count the butterflies stampeding around in my stomach like a herd of elephants, she thought, but sh
e said nothing, just nodded, and he raised a brow a fraction but didn’t comment.

  ‘Do you always travel like this?’ she asked, still slightly stunned by their surroundings but rapidly getting used to it.

  He laughed softly. ‘Only if I’m travelling with Ella or if time’s short. Usually I go business class. It’s just much easier with a baby to travel somewhere private. I’m sure you’ve been in a plane when there’s been a screaming baby—like this,’ he added, as Ella caught sight of the bottle he’d tried to sneak out of his pocket so he could fasten his seat belt. She reached for it, little hands clenching and unclenching as she started to whimper, and Leo hid the bottle under the table.

  ‘No, mia bella, not yet,’ he said gently, and the whimper escalated to an indignant wail.

  Amy laughed softly. ‘Right on cue.’

  She propped her elbows on the table and leant towards Ella, smiling at her and waggling her dragonfly in an attempt to distract her.

  ‘Hi, sweet pea,’ she crooned softly. ‘You aren’t really going to scream all the way there, are you? No, of course not!’

  Finally distracted from the bottle, Ella beamed at her and squashed the toy. It made a lovely, satisfying noise, so she did it again, and Leo chuckled.

  ‘Babies are refreshingly easy to please. Give them a toy and they’re happy.’

  ‘Like men, really. Fast car, big TV, fancy coffee maker...private jet—’

  He gave a soft snort and shot her a look. ‘Don’t push it. And don’t get lulled into a false sense of security because you managed to distract her this time. She can be a proper little tyrant if it suits her. You’re a monster in disguise, aren’t you, mia bella?’

  He said it with such affection, and Amy’s heart turned over. Poor little scrap, losing her mother so young and so tragically. Leo must have been devastated—although not for himself, from what he’d said. He’d told her that marrying the wrong person was a recipe for disaster and it would be a cold day in hell before he did it again, so it didn’t sound as if his marriage had been a match made in heaven, by any means. But even so—