We overheard Hillary say to her, “It’s beautiful, Tiziana.”
Tiziana, clearly startled, drew in a sharp breath at her friend’s greeting. “Hillary! You scared me. I thought I was alone. Well, except for Kathleen and Sébastien. You look utterly beautiful.”
It was my turn to take in a deep breath of surprise. Grinning, we came out of our hiding spot.
Hillary wore a long, strapless, midnight blue chiffon gown; a diamond choker sparked at her throat. Her hair was carefully coiled up, with a few wispy curls dangling down toward her golden skin. “Thank you. You look ravishing, as always.”
Tiziana wore a Proenza Schouler gown with canary-yellow vertical bands down the cups of her snug bodice and a ruffle of sorts at her feet. “Thank you, darling. Ted picked it out for me when we were in Paris. I love it!”
“He has great taste,” I said.
We all jumped when Ted’s deep masculine voice announced, “Yes, he does.”
“Darling! If we keep surprising each other, we’re going to be so agitated.” He looked at her in confusion but didn’t get to find out what she meant before she asked, “Everything ready?”
He nodded. “We’re ready when everyone else gets here.”
No sooner said, than Marian and Charlotte arrived, followed by Des and Liam, who were laughing hard at something Des had just said.
“Ha! For once we aren’t last,” Charlotte announced to Liam, not seeing Sébastien and me. We had sunk back into the shadows to enjoy the moonlight.
Grabbing his wife’s hand, Liam said, “We’ll be back in five minutes!” Charlotte’s cheeks flushed, but she took his teasing in stride as he placed a warm kiss on her knuckles.
“Not true,” I called from the corner.
A crewmember was already doling out glasses of Champagne. We strolled forward and took a glass.
When everyone was accounted for and had a glass of bubbly in hand, Ted and Tiziana stepped into a small circle of light at the bow of the ship to join the captain. Ted joked, “The captain is going to say a few words, none of which most of us will understand, since he’s been drinking.”
The captain chuckled heartily, as did the rest of us.
Ted turned to Marian. “I think I forgot to mention, he’s new to the crew. From Hungary. Close enough to Belarus?” I felt sorry for the bewildered captain as we laughed harder.
Once we settled down, the ceremony began. The captain began by reciting the poem “The Boat” by Rabindranath Tagore.
I must launch out my boat.
The languid hours pass by on the
Shore—Alas for me!
A few minutes later, all that remained was the unveiling of the new name. We huddled around the bow as Ted and Tiziana grappled with an enormous bottle of Champagne, discussing how to break it against the boat.
They counted backwards from ten and we joined in. At “one,” they swung hard, and the bottle glanced off the boat, not shattering as expected. Surprise and laughter followed. The second time, they swung harder, successfully breaking the bottle.
“What’s the boat’s bloody name?” Des called down to Ted.
He shouted something up, his words lost on a gust of the wind.
“Did he say teats, as in a cow’s udder or a woman’s ti—?” Des’s voice stalled in surprise when Liam elbowed him, gesturing over his shoulder at what he expected to be an indignant group of women. Instead, the four of us were keeled over, laughing.
Des bravely pursued the matter when Ted and Tiziana appeared. “Sorry, mate, we missed out on the name. Am I right? Did you actually say teats?” Des asked incredulously.
Tiziana gasped. “Why not? He wanted to call it La Belle Teetz, but this one is better, don’t you think?”
Des openly stared at Tiziana’s breasts and asked the only question he could. “Er, in what way?”
Marian jumped in. “It’s a play on words—”
Tiziana elbowed her, shushing her to be quiet. She was clearly enjoying the discomfort.
Des, Sébastien, and Liam, still perplexed, looked from Marian to Tiziana, who smiled as if everything was crystal clear.
Des admitted, “I’m sure I don’t understand.”
Ted glanced pointedly at his wife’s cleavage. “What don’t you get about Knotty Teaz?” The men heaved a synchronized sigh of relief. “Knotty for nautical, Teaz for Tiziana and Ted. Two T’s. I would have thought it abundantly clear.” He looked at them as if they were idiots.
Des said quietly to Liam, “He did say teats, right?”
Tiziana looked over her shoulder and winked at us.
“Jaysus, she’s got balls!” Marian sputtered through her laughter.
“Nope, she’s got tits,” Charlotte retorted.
Five Countries, Five Lives at the Same Moment
Noon, Monday, August 15
Charlotte Young-Molloy
“LOVE OF MY LIFE, heart of my heart, where are you?” Liam called out as he opened the back door. Chaotic piles of toys littered the living room, but there was the promising quiet of naptime. He put his messenger bag down on a wooden bench made of cubbies, stuffed full of shoes and Sean’s treasures. He slipped off his coat and hung it on an iron peg just beside the back door. He loved walking into this room. The tropical-yellow walls were cheerful, as was the general chaos of items that belonged to his family.
Quietly, he took the stairs two at a time, pausing in front of Sean’s bedroom. The door stood wide open, the room unexpectedly empty. Walking further down the hall, he came to the master bedroom and found it empty, as well. He walked across the room to the large mullioned windows to see if they were outside. Sean’s favorite swing gently swayed in the breeze.
Utterly confused, he stood in the middle of the bedroom, trying to decide what to do. Charlotte had called him just over an hour ago and asked if he could come home for lunch. Here he was, but where was she?
Just as he was deciding what to do next, he heard Charlotte comforting Sean as they walked into the house. Following her voice, he went to the kitchen. “Sweet boy, it’s going to be fine. Let’s put a Band-Aid on it, all right?” He could tell from her voice that she was cajoling their sniffling son and that no real harm had come to him.
Rounding the corner, he saw Sean sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his little legs, while Charlotte used a wet paper towel to clean the palm of his hand. After pressing a kiss to the baby’s soft, silky hair, Liam rested a hand on his son’s shoulder while he kissed his wife. “What happened?”
“We walked up the road to the shops, and when I took him out of the stroller, he yanked his hand loose and stumbled over a paver.” Charlotte’s voice was light, trying to keep the young boy’s tears at bay.
Once he was cleaned and bandaged, she passed him to his father and grabbed up a bag. “Follow me, please!”
Following her swaying hips wherever she wanted to lead him, he tickled his son as he did. “Mommy is going upstairs. Do you think she’s going to tell me to put you in your cot while she and I have a nap? I hope so, because I am very, very sleepy.”
Looking over her shoulder, she answered, “We’ll see.”
“Where’s Jane, by the way?” he asked about Sean’s nanny.
Walking through their bedroom and into the bathroom, Charlotte answered, “I gave her the afternoon off.”
Confused, he asked, “Why? Do you have the afternoon off?”
She pulled a box out of the bag and held it up for him to see. He looked between her and the box several times. Her face was completely blank, so he had no idea what she was feeling. When he said nothing, she pulled down her underwear and sat on the toilet, pulling the pee stick out of the wrapper.
Five minutes later, with Sean squished between his parents, Charlotte said against Liam’s lips, “Want to take the afternoon off?”
“Can we nap?”
“It’s napping that got us into trouble.”
***
Tiziana Caputo-Blackwell
The employees o
f Blackwell Industries, or at least those who worked in the offices adjacent to Ted’s, had become acclimated to Tiziana. As she sauntered through the office, waving kindly at everyone she passed, many returned her greetings with ease. A handful of clients and contractors fumbled with their coffee or quit speaking mid-sentence.
“Hello, Georgina! Ted is expecting me. Is he available?” she asked his secretary.
“Yes, he is waiting for you.” Georgina held the opulent, dark mahogany door open for her as she walked into her husband’s inner sanctum. Surprised, Tiziana came to a stop. Des sat in a chair opposite Ted.
“Des, how are you?” she asked, as she kissed her husband and greeted Des with a kiss on the cheek before placing the massive folder she’d been carrying on Ted’s desk.
Ted and Des exchanged glances before inviting Tiziana to sit down in the chair in front of the large casement window overlooking a well-kept garden.
Des took a deep breath before answering, “In a bit of a pickle, actually.”
His response piqued Tiziana’s curiosity. “Is this a pickle you want to share with me?”
Caught by surprise, her husband laughed out loud at her incorrect use of the phrase.
“What?”
“I’ll explain later,” Ted answered kindly. “Go ahead, Des,”
She swiveled her eyes to Des. “All right, what is happening?” She carefully side-stepped the word “pickle.”
Des launched himself out of his chair and paced back and forth, crossing the carpet several times. His fingers pinched his bottom lip as he sought a solution.
“Just tell her!” Ted said after waiting impatiently for a few minutes.
“Shit, shit, shit, fuck!” Des exploded, as he threw himself back into the chair. He looked at her through squinted eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. “I’m in a spot of trouble.”
While he spoke, Tiziana squirmed in her chair, not making it easier for him to unburden himself.
“A woman has come forward and is pregnant, and she’s claiming her baby is mine.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards. Before she could think, she burst out, “Again? You have to start keeping your penis in your pants.” If her words didn’t convey her disgust, the look on her face certainly did. When he wilted, she spoke more gently. “What about a paternity test?”
“Tomorrow.” He shoved his hand into his hair, worrying his fingers across his forehead. “What am I going to do? The paparazzi are going to have a field day; my parents are going to kill me—again.”
Sliding her chair next to his, Tiziana held his hand to comfort him. “Do you love either of these women? Want to commit to either of them?”
“Not the way you’re thinking of. Sadly, I’m such a cock-up that I am in love with someone else—someone who will never want to have anything to do with me.”
“Your children are your first concern.”
A startled expression washed over his face. “I know! How am I going to protect both children and both women from the paparazzi? They’ll hound them. My parents will overwhelm them. Most importantly, how am I to be a proper father with a child living in Canada and another in London?”
“One step at a time! You need to tell the woman in Canada before this hits the press. Whatever your relationship is, she deserves to hear this from you. Maybe she’ll consider moving to London, but I would talk to her about this possibility when things are more certain with the new baby.”
“I know. I know.” He sounded dejected. “This is going to sound utterly pathetic, in light of everything, but, while I’ll have children whom I will love to pieces, I won’t have a family, not in the proper sense. It’s not only women who want happily ever after.”
“You have no idea what the future holds. Maybe you’ll work it out with the woman you’re in love with or meet someone who’ll be able to handle all of this.” Ted spoke in a thoughtful voice before getting up and pulling open a well-stocked bar. Selecting a bottle of Scotch and glasses, he walked back to Des and Tiziana. “Would you like some, darling?”
“Thank you, amore. A bottle of water?” she asked distractedly. “Des, when is the baby due?”
Leaning forward, he took a deep slug of the Scotch then rubbed his chin. “Any day now.” She drew in a shocked breath. “The babies will be almost the same age?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
After absorbing the news, Ted said, “I’ll come with you to the appointment. I assume your lawyer will be there?”
The question spurred Des into action. He quickly swallowed what was left in his glass while shaking his head. “Thanks, mate. I’ll text you.” Looking at both of them, he said, “I need the two of you to keep this to yourselves completely. No friends, no family. No one! This will become public soon enough.”
***
Tiziana looked at Ted, shell-shocked. “Did you just find out today?”
“Yes, he showed up just before you did.” Settling back into one of the chairs, he patted his lap and said, “Come here, and tell me how your day was, before Des dropped his bomb.”
Once she found herself within the cozy confines of his arms, she closed her eyes, quickly offering thanks for their uncomplicated life. While she nibbled his jawline, she said, “The contract is ready.”
“You’re certain you really want to do this?”
“Absolutely. Aren’t you?”
Ted looked at his beautiful wife. “I only meant to make sure you were truly convinced you wanted to muddy the water. It’s difficult going into business with someone you’re friends with.”
“Mi amore, I’m convinced.” Tiziana pressed her lips against his, distracting him from his own friend’s problems.
***
Hillary Cavendish
Moving from table to table, Hillary readjusted silverware and vases of flowers, wanting every detail of the table and room to be absolutely perfect for her mother.
The Make-a-Wish Foundation had become her mother’s passion, and today’s luncheon was a fundraiser for the charity. The Board of Directors, along with a dozen of Fern Cavendish’s influential and moneyed friends, had been invited.
“Looks lovely, darling.” Hillary heard the muffled clicks of her mother’s heels make their way toward her.
Before turning to face her, Hillary straightened a place card holder. “Anything else I can do for you?” She folded her hands as she turned her focus on her mother.
“Now that you mention it, yes.” Her mother offered her an envelope. “This just arrived.”
Taking the envelope from her, she slid a finger along the seal, carefully prying it open. Inside was a check for £50,000. She read the name over and over. Aksel Pedersen. She hadn’t heard from him in months.
She handed the check to her mother, so she could see for herself. She mused, “He hasn’t been added to the guest list, has he?” She hadn’t seen his name at any table.
“No. Do you know how to reach him? Perhaps you could call, check with his assistant. We can squeeze one more in, surely.”
Round tables covered in white linen, sterling silver, and crystal glasses filled the summer sitting room. “I’ll try.” She slipped away to find privacy. Not reaching him on his cell phone, she left a message, inviting him to join them.
She had a member of the wait staff prepare a place, in case he joined them, then she nipped into the library and searched for Aksel Pedersen on her father’s laptop but found nothing to link him to this event. She heard the guests begin to arrive.
She wended her way to the front door and took her place beside her mother. The two of them greeted guests with air kisses and handshakes before having them ushered to the drawing room by one of the many handsomely dressed waiters. Hillary paid particular attention to the Board of Directors, while her mother greeted her friends and wealthy patrons.
He hadn’t arrived by the time the luncheon was to begin. Taking that table’s server aside, Hillary instructed, “Leave the setting for two minutes and then remove it, if the guest hasn’t arrived
.”
Moving about the room, she managed to get conversation flowing amongst the guests, only excusing herself when she determined they were able to manage themselves. Her eyes drifted to the empty seat.
When she finally took her chair, seated between her deaf grandmother, who would mostly ignore her, and an attractive heart surgeon, Hillary was disappointed to see the server had removed the new place setting and chair. She returned her attention to those at her table.
***
Marian Connolly
Sitting in Il Primo, having lunch with her friend Branna, Marian was pushing the last pieces of crab and mixed greens onto her fork when a familiar voice called her name. Carefully, she placed her fork on her plate and wiped her mouth before searching for his face in the lunchtime crowd.
Looking into the sea of faces, she found Declan a few tables over. He had just been shown to his table, by the looks of things. Dropping his coat onto the back of his chair, he had a quick word with the woman he was having lunch with before making his way to her table. She waited for him to lean down and kiss her cheek before allowing herself to breathe. Inhaling his scent, she felt her stomach tremble.
Politely, she introduced Branna and Declan before asking, “What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in forever, it seems.” It had been one year, two months, four days, and six hours, give or take.
He cackled at her comment nervously. “The usual. Nothing exciting to report. No requests to tour with Lenny Kravitz!” He quickly glanced over his shoulder at his lunch date. Tossing his head in the direction of his table, his calm façade slipped a bit more. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. Technically, I’m on a job interview. Can I call you? Same number?”
“Yeah, sure! Good luck,” Marian quickly answered, wanting him to be gone as soon as possible so that he couldn’t see her lose her composure. “Excuse me,” she said to Branna then rushed to the bathroom.
Her reflection showed her flushed cheeks, broody eyes, and bruised, gnawed lips after the full forty-five-second conversation they’d had. “Jaysus, get a grip!” She turned the cold water tap on full blast and waited a minute before thrusting her hands under to splash her face. The cold water was bracing, causing her to sputter as she attempted to cool her hot, red cheeks. The result was to transform all her skin into a blotchy mess. “That’s better!” she said to herself sarcastically.
Cognac & Couture (The Passport Series Book 2) Page 29
