by Anita Hughes
Oliver put it back on the table. “You look a little peaked. Why don’t we share it?”
“There’s only one plate. How will you take it to your room?”
“I’ll eat it here.” He pulled out a chair and placed a napkin in his lap. “Do you mind pouring me a cup of coffee? And I’d like a piece of toast with butter.”
“Help yourself.” Lily walked to the dresser. “I need to get ready. I have to be at Lily Bristol in an hour.”
“You were just about to have breakfast,” he urged. “And it’s not healthy to eat standing up. You tell Louisa that all the time.”
“All right, Oliver, I’ll have breakfast with you.” Lily sat at the table. “I don’t want any pepper on my side of the omelet.”
Oliver cut the omelet in half and pushed hers to the side of the plate.
“We’re both out of sorts.” He ate a bite of eggs. “If Louisa behaved like this in the morning, we’d tell her to go back upstairs.”
“You know how I get before an opening.” She smoothed her hair. “I can never sleep.”
“Then you shouldn’t be drinking coffee,” he insisted. “Call room service and order chamomile tea.”
“I don’t need you telling me what to do.” She pushed back her chair. “I’m not hungry after all. You can finish the omelet.”
“Lily, wait,” Oliver pleaded. “I’m in a terrible mood, and I’m taking it out on you. Angela left last night.”
“I’m sorry.” Lily sat back down. “But that must be what you wanted.”
“What I wanted was for her not to lie to me in the first place,” he sighed. “I can’t complain. She settled her half of the bill and left me a coupon for a dozen free roses. I’ll never use them. I’m done with dating.”
“Of course you’re going to date.” She laughed. “You don’t like being alone.”
“I’ll take a class at the New School and work on a book of restaurant reviews.”
“Why don’t you take Louisa to Vermont for a week,” she suggested. “You can see the leaves change and buy fresh maple syrup.”
“You just want the house to yourself so Ricky can stay over.” He eyed her carefully. “I don’t mind if you introduce him to Louisa, but I’d prefer that he doesn’t spend the night. We don’t want to set a bad example.”
“Ricky isn’t coming to America.” She brushed crumbs from her dress. “I told him I don’t want to see him again.”
“That is news.” He looked up. “I hope I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Of course you had something to do with it!” Her cheeks flamed. “I decided I had to find out whether Ricky told the truth about his engagement. It turns out he wanted to marry Poppy for the same reason he said he was in love with me.” She traced the rim of her cup. “He dreamed of owning a clothing store on Fifth Avenue.”
“I don’t understand.” He frowned.
“He needed to marry someone with an American passport so he could get a green card,” she explained. “Of course, he said I got it all wrong, and he was in love with me. But how could I believe him?”
“I’m terribly sorry. I was certain Angela was telling the truth about Ricky,” Oliver said. “I had to tell you. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I can’t think about it now,” she said quickly. “I have so much to do. Ricky said he was going to help at the grand opening, and I gave Dolores the day off. It’s exhausting doing everything myself. But tonight I’m going to curl up with a bowl of soup, and tomorrow I’ll get on the plane. I’ve never been so excited about folding Louisa’s laundry.”
Oliver put down his cup. “I’ll help you at Lily Bristol, if you do something for me.”
“Do what for you, Oliver?” she asked.
“Come to the opening of Nero’s tonight,” he urged. “I hate reviewing restaurants by myself. I get full before the entrée. And it’s supposed to be the sexiest restaurant on the Emerald Coast. I don’t want to be the only man without a date.”
“I’m not going to be your date.” She shook her head.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “It’s just awkward to eat alone. Please, we’ve come all this way. We don’t want to spend our last day on the Emerald Coast by ourselves.”
It would be fun to go to the opening of Nero’s. And why should she spend her last night on the Emerald Coast alone? She would have plenty of nights by herself when she returned to Connecticut.
“All right, Oliver.” She stood up. “I’ll go with you. Now I really have to hurry. I’ll meet you at Lily Bristol in an hour.”
Oliver ate the last bite of omelet and stood up. He walked to the door and turned around.
“Wear that dress you wore at the Yacht Club,” he said. “You looked like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
“You watch too many classic movies.” She laughed. “I’ll see you later.”
* * *
Lily slipped on her pumps and glanced at her phone. There was a text from her store manager in San Francisco, wishing her good luck. Even her mother had sent an email saying she was proud of her.
She put on a wide-brimmed hat and grabbed her purse. She would think about Ricky later. She was on her way to the opening of Lily Bristol Sardinia, and it was going to be a great success.
Chapter Fourteen
OLIVER HURRIED ALONG THE COBBLESTONES and smoothed his collar. It was evening, and the piazzetta was filled with couples browsing in boutique windows. Sports cars idled on the pavement, and the air smelled of imported cigars.
Lily Bristol’s grand opening had been a huge success. Lily flitted around the space, filling champagne flutes and making sure no one ran out of canapés. The cash register rang all afternoon, and by the time she turned the sign to Chiuso, they were both exhausted.
Now he approached the entrance of Nero’s and searched the sidewalk. Lily said she would meet him there, but he couldn’t see her. There was a line out the door, and a valet juggled keys to Lamborghinis.
Perhaps Lily had decided to stay in the suite and go to bed early. He checked his phone and wondered why he felt nervous. It wasn’t a date; they were just going to sit across from each other at dinner.
The line parted, and Oliver noticed a woman wearing a silver taffeta gown. Her dark hair was tucked behind her ears and she carried a velvet clutch.
“There you are.” Oliver bounded up the steps. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I’m not sure this was a good idea.” Lily patted her hair. “Everyone is under thirty, and I’ve never seen so many sequins.”
Oliver glanced at the crowd and noticed women with straight blond hair and bronze skin. The men wore linen blazers and held gold cigarette cases.
“You’re the most beautiful woman here.” He took her arm. “And we came for the food. The chef is famous for his lobster risotto, and the pistachio sorbet is the best in Sardinia.”
Oliver opened the double glass doors and led Lily inside. The restaurant had a pink marble floor and upholstered chairs. Tables were set with bone-white china, and floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a garden.
“It’s lovely,” Lily breathed. “It’s like eating in someone’s private mansion.”
“No wonder it’s called Nero’s.” Oliver consulted the menu. “Thirty euros for ham and cheese antipasto! The owners are making a fortune.”
“It does seem expensive.” Lily glanced at the prices. “Maybe we should split an entrée.”
“Don’t be silly, that’s why I have an expense account.” He signaled the waiter. “We’re going to order their finest champagne. We have a lot to celebrate.”
“I don’t know what we’re celebrating.” She took a sip of water. “Your fiancée lied about being pregnant. And the man I was falling in love with was only interested in immigration.”
“Angela wasn’t my fiancée. I didn’t formally propose.” He winced. “And I never trusted Ricky; he was much too good-looking.”
“There’s nothing wrong with
being attractive.” She laughed.
“You’re right.” He paused. “You look beautiful tonight. In some ways, you’re exactly the same as when we met in Naples. And in other ways, you’re completely different.”
“In what ways?” she asked.
“You’re poised and successful, but most importantly, you’re comfortable with yourself,” he mused. “I hope Louisa turns out to be just like you.”
“All I want to do is go home and make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” She sighed. “I love the Emerald Coast, but the gleaming yachts and glamorous people get exhausting.”
“Do you remember when we stayed at the Hotel Baglioni for Lily Brisol Milan’s grand opening?” he asked. “I was so upset that your parents paid for our suite, I couldn’t enjoy it. Your mother thought I would never amount to anything, and all I could see was what was wrong.
“If only I knew how good we had it. Eating dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant and visiting Milan Cathedral. Going back to our suite and making love on linen sheets.”
“You worried about everything, and none of it was important.” Lily looked up, and her eyes were liquid gold. “Did I tell you Roger is getting married? My mother wrote to me. His fiancée is from Houston, and they’re having a reception at the Fairmont.”
“Mirabelle is selling her restaurant and moving to Chicago,” he commented. “She’s opening a fusion restaurant with several partners.”
“That sounds exciting,” she said stiffly. “Tell her congratulations.”
“I haven’t seen her.” He shrugged. “I read about it in the New Yorker.”
The waiter poured glasses of champagne, and Oliver watched bubbles float to the rim. Suddenly, he stood up and held out his hand.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked.
“I’m much too tired, and there’s no room to dance.” She glanced around the cramped space.
“We’ll dance in the garden,” he insisted. “It’s good to get fresh air before a meal. It improves the palate.”
“I could use some air,” Lily conceded, sipping her champagne. “All right, one dance.”
He led her into the garden and put his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and the air smelled of citrus. Lights twinkled in orange trees, and Oliver did what he’d thought he would never get to do again.
He tipped her face up to his and kissed her.
* * *
They ate braised goat and sorbet with berries for dessert. After dinner, they strolled along the harbor and admired the yachts. Oliver took Lily’s hand, and she didn’t tell him to let it go.
Now they stood in the hotel hallway, and Lily took out her key.
“I’m so tired. I’m afraid I’ll sleep in and miss my flight,” she said. “I can never set my alarm with a twenty-four-hour clock. I always mix up the AM and PM.”
“Ask the concierge to send you a wake-up call,” he suggested.
“That doesn’t help, I stuff the phone under my pillow.” She laughed. “I need something buzzing in my ear.”
“I’ll set it for you.” Oliver took her key and opened the door. “It will only take a minute.”
He entered the suite’s bedroom and perched on the bed. He fiddled with the clock and placed it on the bedside table.
“You’re all set.” He stood up.
Lily dropped her earring on the dresser and walked over to Oliver.
“Thank you for dinner, I had a lovely time.” She reached up and kissed him.
Her mouth was warm, and he kissed her back. He drew her close and ran his hands down her back. She smelled exactly as he remembered, of lavender shampoo and some kind of floral perfume.
“I’ve never wanted anything more than to take off that taffeta gown and kiss your bare shoulders,” he said. “But I couldn’t forgive myself if I took advantage of you when you drank too much champagne.”
Lily dropped her other earring on the bedside table and unzipped her dress. It fell to the floor and she unhooked her bra.
“I’m not the least bit drunk,” she assured him. “And there’s nothing I want more.”
He kissed her collarbone and slipped his hand under her panties. Her eyes flickered, and she let out a small moan.
“I love you and promise I’ll never hurt you,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Oliver,” she murmured and pulled him down on the bed.
Everything was sweet and familiar: the curve of her stomach and the mole on her thigh and the way she whispered his name.
Their bodies rocked together, and he had to hold himself back. Then she wrapped her arms around him, and they moved faster, and he came with an incredible force.
* * *
Oliver slipped on a robe and poured a glass of water. Lily had fallen asleep, but he was suddenly thirsty. Child-sized pink sandals sat in a box, and he thought they would look lovely on Louisa. He sipped the water and climbed back into bed. For one moment, he had everything he wanted.
Chapter Fifteen
LILY ZIPPED UP HER SUITCASE and checked her purse for her passport. Oliver was gone when she woke up, and now she had to hurry. Her plane left in two hours, and she still had to call a taxi and drive to Olbia Airport.
There was a knock at the door, and Lily answered it.
“Oh, Enzo! It’s wonderful to see you. I wanted to show you photos of the grand opening, but now I don’t have time.” She ushered him inside. “And I forgot to ask the concierge to call a taxi. Would you mind calling them and taking down my suitcase? I overslept and I’m afraid I’ll miss my plane.”
“A taxi is already waiting downstairs. I checked your flight information, and your flight has been delayed an hour,” Enzo said. “You have plenty of time. I also delivered the jewelry box to Ricky.” He handed her an envelope. “He sent you a note.”
“I’ll read it later.” She dropped it into her purse. “I’m sorry I’m so rushed. I’ll send you a text and tell you everything that happened when I board the plane. The opening of Lily Bristol was a huge success. I wish you had been there, you would have been pleased.” She paused, and her eyes glistened. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. You listened and never judged me. That’s the trait of a real friend.”
“I have enjoyed our time together very much.” He beamed. “You are a beautiful young American divorcée. Any man on the Emerald Coast is lucky to be in your company.”
“I’ll come back next year with Louisa, and you should bring your wife and daughters to New York,” she urged. “Louisa would love to show them Coney Island and the Museum of Natural History and Dylan’s Candy Bar.”
“It would be our pleasure.” He picked up the suitcase. “Carmella has always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty.”
“There’s one thing you have to promise to do if you come,” she said.
“What’s that?” he asked.
A smile spread across her face and she chuckled. “You have to promise to call me Lily.”
* * *
There was another knock on the door, and Lily opened it. Oliver stood in the hallway. His cheeks were lathered with shaving cream, and he clutched a razor.
“I was standing on the balcony and saw your suitcases being loaded into a taxi.” He entered the suite. “You weren’t going to leave without telling me!”
“Put the razor down, Oliver. You’re making me nervous.” She followed him. “And I was about to leave. I overslept and don’t want to miss my flight.”
“That was one of the best nights of my life,” he protested. “You can’t get on a plane without saying good-bye.”
“We’ll see each other when you pick up Louisa next Saturday.” She shrugged.
“I don’t want to see you every other weekend,” he spluttered. “I’m still in love with you and thought we’d be together.”
“We can’t be together,” she reminded him. “We’re divorced.”
“We’ll get un-divorced or live in sin.” He waved his hand. “I don’t care what we do, a
s long as we share a room.”
“We can’t jump back into a relationship, it’s not fair to Louisa,” she answered. “We don’t want her to think marriage is like the revolving door at Bloomingdale’s. And just because we had a wonderful night, doesn’t mean we’ve learned to trust each other.” She looked at Oliver. “I don’t know if I can go through all that again.”
“But you’re the one who said you only want to be happy,” he pleaded. “You were happy last night.”
“We’re adults now. Being happy isn’t enough. We have to feel secure and think about our future.”
“At least, let’s talk about it,” he insisted. “People spend their whole lives searching for that kind of chemistry. We’ve had it since the moment I saw you at the train station in Naples. We’ve been given another chance. It would be criminal to throw it away.”
“I can’t talk about it now.” She looked at Oliver. “We hurt each other so much. We tried so hard, and it only got worse. It would be the same thing all over again.”
“Let’s see a counselor or go on a couples retreat,” he urged. “One of those places where they don’t let you bring cell phones, and you learn to appreciate the taste of a mango.”
“We’ve been to a therapist, and we don’t need anyone to tell us how fruit tastes.” She took a deep breath. “I’m very sorry. But I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Are you sure?” He looked like a boy who traded his last Star Wars card. “At least think about it.”
“All right, I’ll think about it.” She touched his cheek. “Enjoy your last day on the Emerald Coast. I’ll see you soon.”
* * *
Lily stepped into the taxi and slipped on her sunglasses. There was a spot of shaving cream on her finger, and she rubbed it on her palm.
Last night had been wonderful, and she did have feelings for Oliver. But she was a career woman and a single mother; she had to be responsible. She couldn’t change her direction because her heart fluttered and there was a warmth in her chest.
Someone knocked on the car window, and Lily looked up. Oliver stood on the curb. His feet were bare, and he held something in his hand.
