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Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

Page 8

by Caroline Anderson


  * * *

  She hardly saw him on Tuesday because the men didn’t come back for lunch and then had a meeting after dinner, but then on Wednesday afternoon Massimo and Gio had a prior commitment and the women and children were at a birthday party, so they were left to their own devices.

  ‘How about playing tourists?’ Leo suggested, so they went out in the car with the baby and explored a nearby hill town Lydia had recommended for its food shops, and while he investigated them she clicked away on her camera, recording the day for Leo’s blog.

  It made her smile, watching him interacting with the shopkeepers. He went all Italian, of course, smiling and laughing and waving his hands all over the place, and she realised that he was always like that when he was fired up about something, and she just hadn’t registered it until now, when it was slightly more exaggerated.

  He’d always been just Leo, and she’d never really analysed him before, but she was doing it now, constantly, with every click of the shutter. Every move, every smile, every frown, every gesture, all logged and recorded in a little part of her brain labelled ‘Leo’, and her feelings were getting utterly confused.

  Inappropriate? No, maybe not that, but certainly different, threatening the platonic status quo that she’d just realised was so fragile, and because of that, and because she wasn’t going to repeat the fiasco with her bikini, when she spotted a likely-looking shop she took the opportunity to check it out.

  ‘Can I have five minutes?’ she asked him. ‘I need another swimming costume if we’re going to swim every day.’

  A muscle twitched in his jaw and he nodded. ‘Sure. I’ll wait here for you.’

  The shop was perfect, and she found a ludicrously expensive but utterly plain black one-piece swimsuit. She didn’t bother to try it on. Whatever it was like, it had to be better than the bikini, and there was a limit to how many photos even she could take of Leo in and around the water. And anyway she wanted to swim; she just wasn’t going to risk another disaster.

  She picked up a pretty little pink swimsuit for Ella, as well, because it was irresistible, and she didn’t even look at the price. She’d hardly given the baby anything, only the crackly dragonfly that was her constant companion, so she could easily justify it to herself.

  She managed to pay without flinching, put her purse away, scooped up her shopping and went out into the sunshine to find Leo and Ella.

  * * *

  He wondered what she was looking for. Hopefully something that covered her up a little more successfully than that bikini, which had already given him two sleepless nights since Ella had grabbed it.

  He was trying to keep an eye on the shop door, but an elderly matron who should have known better had cornered him and was flirting outrageously, so he was relieved to see Amy emerge.

  ‘Got what you wanted?’ he asked, and she nodded and waggled the bag at him.

  ‘Yup. Are you done?’

  ‘Definitely. We need to make a move.’

  He turned to the woman to excuse himself, and she caught him by the shoulders and kissed his cheeks, laughing as she let him go with an outrageous parting shot and a cheeky pat on his behind.

  He felt the colour run up his neck and walked hastily away, shaking his head in despair.

  ‘What did she say to you?’ Amy asked, eyeing him curiously as she struggled to keep up.

  ‘Nothing,’ he mumbled. ‘Just goodbye.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. She was flirting—and she groped you.’

  ‘No, she didn’t. It was just a little pat. She recognised me, that’s all.’

  Amy rolled her eyes. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday, Leo. Most people don’t pat you on the behind, and even I can tell a starstruck old biddy when I see one. She was hitting on you.’

  He fought the rising tide of colour, and lost. ‘OK, OK. She said if she was twenty years younger, she’d give you a run for your money. I didn’t think it’d be wise to point out that we’re not together. She might have dragged me off on her broomstick.’

  Her chuckle was delicious, and he couldn’t help but join in.

  ‘You’re such a babe magnet, Zacharelli,’ she teased. ‘They all hurl themselves at you, it doesn’t matter how old they are.’

  All except Amy.

  The thought popped into his head without warning, but it was true. If he was such a babe magnet, how come she’d never even noticed him in that way? Well, not since she was fourteen and had come down with a serious case of hero-worship, and that didn’t really count. Although God only knows he’d noticed her recently. Like Monday, with the bikini top that Ella had so helpfully dragged out of the way and that she’d now seen fit to replace. He’d certainly noticed that.

  ‘Can we change the subject, please?’ he muttered, to himself as much as Amy, and headed back to the car with Ella, leaving Amy to follow, still chuckling, in his wake.

  * * *

  The next day the men were out again, visiting the cousin who made the gorgeous balsamic vinegar that appeared with oil and bread at every delicious meal, and she and the three wives were left to their own devices for the whole day.

  It seemed odd now, not seeing him at all for such a long time, and she seemed to miss him more than the baby did, which was a bit telling. They went to Isabelle’s for lunch, for a change, and then retreated to the pool in the afternoon, and then at five, as they were just getting the children out of the water, Massimo, Gio and Leo reappeared, making her profoundly glad she’d bought the new one-piece.

  Leo walked towards her, his eyes shielded by sunglasses, and she turned, the baby on her hip, to point him out.

  ‘Hey, look, baby, it’s your daddy!’ she cooed to Ella, and Ella held her arms out to him, little starfish hands opening and closing as she jiggled with excitement.

  Amy could identify with that. She watched Leo’s face light up as he reached out for the baby, and felt a pang of envy. What would it be like, to have a little person so very pleased to see you?

  Wonderful. Amazing.

  He slid the sunglasses up onto his head and held his arms out, and she could see the wonder in his eyes.

  ‘She’s wet,’ Amy warned him, but he just shrugged.

  ‘I don’t care. I need a shower anyway. Come here, mia bellissima bambina,’ Leo said, reaching for the baby, but his fingers brushed Amy’s breast and she sucked in her breath. It was barely audible, but he heard it, and their eyes clashed and held, his darkening to midnight.

  For a moment they both froze. She couldn’t breathe, the air jammed solid in her lungs, and then with a muttered apology he lifted Ella out of her arms and turned away, laughing and kissing her all over her face, making her giggle deliciously and freeing Amy from his spell.

  After a second of paralysing immobility, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it firmly round herself, then gathered up their things and headed for the steps, Leo falling in beside her at the top. They walked back together to their apartment, Ella perched on his shoulders with her little fists knotted in his hair, while he told her a little about his day and they both pretended that the moment by the pool hadn’t happened.

  ‘Sounds like it was worth going,’ she said lightly as they went in and closed the door behind them, and he nodded.

  ‘It was,’ he said, prising the baby’s fingers out of his hair and swinging her down into his arms. ‘We had a lot to talk about, and we still have. And they’re all off to visit their parents tomorrow. It’s their mother’s birthday and they can’t reschedule, there isn’t another time they’re all available, which means we can’t finalise the deal until after they’re back on Sunday. Will that be a problem for you?’

  A whole weekend alone with Leo? She felt a flicker of trepidation—anticipation? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn’t refuse him and she didn’t want to. ‘No—why should it?’
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br />   He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I said maybe a week, but we won’t leave now until at least Monday or Tuesday and I don’t know if you can give me that long or if there’s something you need to get back for.’

  She stared at him blankly. ‘Leo, I can give you as long as it takes. That’s why I’m here. I owe you so much, for so many things—really, don’t give it another thought. Do what you need to do. It’s fine. I have nowhere else to be.’

  ‘Sure?’ he asked, but she could see the relief in his eyes and she wondered if he’d expected her to refuse.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I’m sure. Anyway, I’m having fun,’ she said, keeping it light. ‘So I’m going to be forced to spend a few more days in a medieval Medici palace with a beautiful swimming pool and a view to die for, playing with a cute baby and being fed by a celebrity chef. What a tragedy!’

  He laughed softly, shrugged acknowledgement and put Ella on the floor on her towel, crouching down to peel off her costume. ‘This is lovely, by the way. Really cute. Where did it come from? Did you borrow it?’

  ‘No, I bought it yesterday in the shop while you were being chatted up by Methuselah’s mother—and before you say anything, it’s a present. So, are we going to be completely on our own, then, while they’re away?’ she asked, striving for casual while her hormones were having a field day.

  ‘I believe so. They’re going to give us keys and we’ll have the run of the place till Sunday lunchtime, so we’ll be able to just chill out, which is lovely. I really need that. It’ll be like being on holiday, and I’ll have a chance to try out some recipes using their ingredients. I’m actually really looking forward to it. I’m cooking for them all on Sunday so they don’t have to do it when they get back, and I want to play around with some ideas for that.’

  ‘Can I be your guinea pig?’ she asked hopefully, latching onto the safe and familiar, and he tilted his head to look at her and grinned, suddenly looking like the old Leo.

  ‘I’m relying on it. You have a terrifying gift for honesty where my food’s concerned. And I’ll try not to poison you.’

  ‘You do that,’ she said, secretly flattered by his backhanded compliment and relieved that the conversation had steered them seamlessly into safer waters.

  ‘So how was your day?’ he asked, straightening up with the naked baby in his arms. ‘I felt I’d abandoned you. Were you both OK?’

  ‘Leo, we were fine, and we’ve had a lovely day together. She’s gorgeous. I didn’t realise what fun a baby could be.’

  His smile softened his features. ‘Nor did I,’ he murmured, brushing Ella’s head with a gentle kiss, and the tender gesture turned her heart to mush.

  Oh, Leo...

  * * *

  She showered and changed, then took herself outside, sitting on the bench in the cool shade of their east-facing terrace and leaving him to deal with Ella while she took advantage of a few moments to herself when she didn’t have to pretend anything.

  She’d tipped her head back and closed her eyes, but then she heard the gravel crunch, then the slight creak of the bench as he sat down beside her.

  ‘Here. I’ve brought you a drink.’

  She opened her eyes and sat up, taking the glass of sparkling water with a slice of lime floating in it, the outside beaded with moisture.

  ‘Just what I wanted. Thank you. Is she asleep?’

  ‘Yes, she’s gone out like a light. The swimming must have tired her out. Look, I wanted to talk to you about this weekend. Are you OK with me doing all this cooking?’

  Amy looked at him in astonishment, puzzled that he would even ask. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the one doing all the work and it’s not as if I won’t get to eat it. It’s not down to me.’

  ‘It is in a way,’ he pointed out. ‘If I’m cooking, you’ll need to look after Ella, and it’s not really why you’re here. I should have checked with you instead of just assuming.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind,’ she said, puzzled that he would even ask her. ‘You know I don’t. Ella’s lovely, and, anyway, I am here to look after her.’

  ‘Only when I’m in meetings. That was the deal.’

  ‘Leo, it’s fine, and, as you said, you need to play around with their produce, try out some recipes, and I’m more than happy to help you in any way I can. I owe you so much—’

  ‘You owe me nothing,’ he said softly, his eyes curiously intent. ‘I’ve told you that.’

  She shook her head briefly to free her from the magnetic hold of those mesmerising eyes. ‘I do. Not just the catering. I’m OK with that now. That’s just money, really, but—well, without you I would have married Nick, and it would have been a disaster. If you hadn’t said what you did...’

  His sigh sounded weary and dredged up from his boots. ‘I had to, Amy. You just didn’t seem happy enough for it to be right, and there was no way I could let you sleepwalk into a doomed marriage.’

  ‘Like you did into yours?’ she asked rashly, and then bit her lip and waited for his reply.

  It was quiet on the shady terrace, the valley stretched out below them, the doors to his bedroom open so he could hear Ella if she woke. A light breeze whispered over Amy’s skin, welcome after the heat of the day, and she pressed the cold glass to her face to cool it.

  He glanced at her, then looked away. ‘I didn’t sleepwalk into it,’ he said at last. ‘Lisa did, to a certain extent, but I was railroaded into it by my own sense of decency. Lisa was pregnant, I was the father, I was responsible for her and the baby. I did, as they say, the decent thing. End of. Except that wasn’t the end of it,’ he added bleakly, ‘and I don’t know if it ever will be.’

  He was staring out over the rolling hills, his eyes remote and shuttered, and she reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Oh, Leo, I’m so sorry,’ she said softly. ‘Want to talk about it?’

  He glanced briefly back at her, then away again. ‘Not really. Why would I? What’s the point? It won’t change anything.’

  It was a less than subtle hint to drop the subject, but somehow she couldn’t, so she pressed on. ‘I know that, but you always used to talk to me, get things off your chest. I thought it might help you. You must be so sad, for Ella if not for yourself.’

  ‘Sad?’ He gave a bitter little laugh that made her wince. ‘I don’t think sad even scratches the surface. Gutted? Wracked with guilt? Ashamed?’

  Ashamed...?

  He turned his head to look at her, and in the depths of those beautiful amber eyes she could see an unfathomable despair. And then the shutters came down and he looked away, glancing pointedly at his watch.

  ‘It’s time we went over for dinner,’ he said, changing the subject so emphatically now that there was no way she was about to argue with him. And that was that—the end of anything deep and meaningful, at least for now.

  Just as well. She was getting altogether too interested in Leo and his thoughts and feelings, and it was time she remembered that it was none of her business, and that he was just a friend.

  It’s not wrong to take an interest in your friends. You were only asking because you care.

  No, she wasn’t. She was being nosy, delving into parts of his psyche that were absolutely none of her business, friend or not. If he wanted to tell her about his disastrous marriage, no doubt he’d do it in his own time, but it wasn’t down to her to ask.

  He got up and went inside, leaving her sitting alone on the terrace. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back against the worn old stone and sighed softly.

  There had been a time, not all that long ago, when he’d told her everything. He’d poured his heart out to her on numerous occasions; break-ups with his girlfriends, rows with his parents—all manner of things. She’d done the same with him, and there’d never been anything they couldn’t talk about.


  And there’d been the good things, too, like the time he’d won the TV cookery competition when he was only nineteen, and his first job as a head chef when he’d scarcely finished his training, and his meteoric rise to success as a TV celebrity chef.

  That was when his ageing father had handed over the reins of the company restaurant business, and he’d raised his game and gone from strength to strength.

  But all the time he’d talked to her. She’d been part of all his ups and downs, but not any more, apparently. Not since Lisa, and the marriage that had left him, of all things, ashamed.

  Why? Why ashamed? Of his choice of bride? His behaviour towards her? Because she’d died in such tragic circumstances? Hardly his fault—unless there was something about her death that she didn’t know. And she wasn’t likely to now, because apparently he wasn’t prepared to share anything more intimate than a menu, and she couldn’t believe how much it hurt.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AS THEY WERE seeing the others off the following morning, Massimo apologised for abandoning them.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, we’ll be fine,’ Leo said. ‘Can I raid your vegetable garden, Lydia?’

  ‘Oh, feel free, you don’t have to ask,’ she said wholeheartedly. ‘Use anything you want, there or in the kitchen. Are you sure you don’t mind doing lunch for us all? I don’t want you to feel you have to.’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t be silly, it’ll be a pleasure and I love a family party. It’ll be fun. And don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine, won’t we, Amy?’

  ‘Of course we will,’ Amy said, but the butterflies were at it again at the thought of forty-eight hours alone with him. His accidental touch yesterday by the pool was still fresh in her mind, and they’d been surrounded then. What would have happened if they’d been alone?

  Nothing, probably, and if there was another awkward moment like that she’d only have to mention Lisa and he’d back off at the speed of light. She let out a quiet sigh and waved goodbye to the family.

 

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