by Cara Marsi
“Now it’s my turn,” she heard Tom say. “You sicken...”
Slowing her step, Mary Beth smiled. Despite the fact she’d probably lost some potential wealthy clients, she felt as if a hand had reached down from heaven and plucked the weight of years off her shoulders.
She was truly free of the past. She knew that Taylor, McKee and the rest of their crowd were petty-minded jerks, but she actually felt sorry for them now. Tom had never been as mean, except for that one time, but he’d grown and changed. And she loved him for it.
She wound her way through the noisy crowd as tears of relief and worry filled her eyes. Why hadn’t Tom followed her? For his sake, she hoped he wasn’t fighting with McKee.
The band started a loud disco tune. She winced at the high pitch of the music. Like Cinderella, she wanted to run from the ball, but she wouldn’t leave without Tom. Not after he’d come to her defense. So different from the last time. He was truly her Prince Charming. She’d collect her wrap, find the limo driver and ask him to pull the car around, then she’d find Tom.
“Mary Beth,” Tom yelled.
Her heart soared at the sound of his voice. She pivoted to face him. He walked quickly toward her, his face grim. He had loosened his tie and a wayward curl fell over his forehead. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and tell him how much she loved him, but they’d caused enough of a scene already tonight.
The crowd, suddenly quiet, parted for him. Even the couples on the dance floor slowed to watch them. Mary Beth’s face burned and she looked straight ahead, not daring to look around.
“Thank God I found you.” Tom gripped her shoulders. “I was afraid you’d gone, but I had to tell those two exactly what I thought of them.” He smiled. “That felt good.”
She couldn’t stop her own grin. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Not until we talk.”
“Not here,” she said, sliding her gaze to some of the guests who were openly staring at them. Her face grew hotter.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. He led her through the entry hall. Small groups of people milled around the large foyer.
When he headed toward the carpeted stairs that led to the upper floors, she pulled back. “I just want to go home.”
He shook his head. “Later.” He gently pulled her up the stairs.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Someplace where we can be alone. I know this house. Don’t worry. No one will bother us.” He turned and grinned at her. “I think after my little display on the patio, no one would dare mess with me right now.”
She laughed despite her jittery stomach.
When they reached the second floor, he ushered her through ornately carved double doors into a cavernous room filled with heavy leather furniture and empty bookshelves.
“The library,” he said. “They sold the books a long time ago.”
“Tom, I don’t—”
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing toward a sofa upholstered in burgundy velvet.
“I don’t feel like sitting.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Sit.” He pushed her gently onto the couch.
He stood over her, his blue eyes blazing. “We are going to have that talk we should have had a long time ago.”
“But—”
He held up his hand. “Just be quiet, Cat Eyes. I have something I’ve waited years to say and I want to get it out before I lose my nerve.”
She sat on the edge of the cushion, her hands clasped tightly on her lap. Lines of fatigue and stress fingered Tom’s mouth. He’d laid his reputation as a community and business leader on the line for her tonight. What happened all those years ago no longer mattered. She wanted to hold him, smooth away the worry from his face. Tell him how much he meant to her.
He ran his hand over his eyes. When he looked at her again, regret filled his features. “We need to talk about that night twelve years ago.”
“It’s okay, Tom.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not. Let me finish.”
She nodded. He was right. They had to talk.
His gaze locked with hers. “I was so angry with you for running away from me at the graduation formal.”
She sucked in her breath. “Angry at me? I’m the one who was humiliated. By you. By your friends.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. An errant curl brushed his forehead and he impatiently pushed it back. He looked younger, vulnerable. Her heart ached with love for him.
“I was angry because I knew you felt insecure about dating me,” he said. “I thought I had finally earned your trust. You proved me wrong. You were so ready to believe the worst of me that you ran off without giving me a chance.”
Indignation stiffened her. She sat straighter and glared at him. “You’re blaming me?”
The tendons along his neck were taut. “No, but I’m bungling this whole deposition. This is tough.” He began pacing the worn Oriental carpet.
He faced her from across the room. “I was angry at first. Later I realized my own cowardice kept me from chasing after you. I was such a jerk.”
“I-I loved you so much,” she said. “Why did you set me up?”
His face paled. “Set you up? Is that what you believed all these years, that I had something to do with what happened?”
She widened her eyes and nodded. A lump formed in her throat. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. She fingered the silver bracelet she wore, the one she’d thrown in her jewel box that night. All this time she’d been so sure...
He crossed the room in quick strides to sit beside her. He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
“Sweetheart, I may have been a wretched coward, but I had no part in what they did.”
She blinked as his words penetrated her brain. “You-you didn’t?” Relief brought tears to her eyes.
He stroked a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “I’m just as guilty for standing by while they hurt you. Yes, I was upset you had so little faith in me, but I knew if I defended you they’d laugh at me too. And I thought I needed them.”
His features softened and he skimmed his finger over her lips. “I needed you, but I was too self-involved to see that. Can you ever forgive me?”
She drew a deep breath. “I forgave you a long time ago, but I didn’t realize it till tonight.”
“Cat Eyes,” he whispered. He brushed his lips over hers in a tender kiss.
She wanted to hug him to her, to declare her love, but unanswered questions hovered in the air between them. They needed to start their future with a clean plate.
“Tom,” she said, drawing away. “Why didn’t you call me later and explain? You hurt me so much that night.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He stroked her cheek. “I called your cell phone while I was still in Boston but it was disconnected. So was your home phone. I telephoned your friends, Maria and Liz, but they hung up on me.”
“They never told me,” she said. “Mom and I moved to the beach with my aunt for the summer.” She frowned. “What do you mean while you were in Boston?”
“You know. My dad. The accident.”
She shook her head. “What accident?”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “I can’t believe this.” He leveled his gaze at her. “My dad was in a bad car accident in Boston. The night of the dance. I got the message soon after you ran out. My family and I left for Boston right away. You didn’t know?”
She shook her head.
He cupped her face. “After all these years. That night changed me. I almost lost my dad. I’d lost you. I was such a spoiled, selfish kid, always getting into trouble, doing whatever pleased me. And I hurt the ones who cared for me the most. I decided to turn my life around, to make amends to all the people I’d disappointed. The storefront law practice was one of the things I did to ease my conscience.”
He took her hands in his. “I never really forgot you and I never stopped regretting that I let you down. The more
time that went by, the harder it became to find you and ask your forgiveness.”
He released her hands. “I eased my guilt by telling myself you’d forgotten me and what I did and were probably happily married with a couple of kids. That last thought bothered me most of all.”
“It did?” She pressed a trembling hand against her stomach. “I’m having a hard time digesting all of this.” She took a calming breath. “There’s something else I have to know.”
“Anything,” he said, leaning back. “No more secrets between us. Ever.”
She clasped her hands together. “Did you buy my business to atone for the past? Was it charity after all?” She was afraid of the answer. But she needed the truth.
“No, Cat Eyes,” he said, straightening. “It wasn’t charity. I would have found another way to make things up to you. Sure, I saw your problem as an opportunity to earn your forgiveness, but investing in your company was a solid financial decision. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”
She gave him a shaky smile. “You saved Kendrick & Company. I’ll always be grateful.”
He took her hands and kissed each palm. “I want a lot more than gratitude from you, Mary Beth.”
Her heart beat like a wild bird trapped in a cage. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said.
Tears stung her eyes and hope rose in her chest. She stared into the blue depths of his eyes, unable to look away.
Still holding her hands, his gaze searched hers. “I have something more to say. It’s not easy for me. Hear me out. Okay?”
She nodded.
“I thought I loved Clarice,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Her and Jack’s betrayal stung badly, but on another level, I felt relieved. I had begun to realize that something was missing from my life. Something important.
“This feeling of unfinished business nagged at me. My family wanted me home. Clarice and Jack sure didn’t need me. And running into Max Cummings in Manhattan clinched it.”
“Max Cummings?” she said, blinking. “I catered his son’s christening. What does he have to do with anything?”
“He told me you were a caterer,” Tom said. “But more importantly, he mentioned you were single. That’s when I knew I had to come home.”
“Because I wasn’t married?” she said, barely able to believe her ears.
He caressed her with his gaze. “If you weren’t married, it meant I still had a chance.” His mouth spread into a slow grin that made her breath catch in her throat. “But that wasn’t the reason I gave myself for coming home.”
“It wasn’t?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’ve been in denial for years. The truth has been jumping up and down in front of me like a nervous litigator, but I ignored it. I told myself I wanted your forgiveness, then your friendship. Maybe I was afraid of being hurt again. Or maybe I figured you’d never care for me after what I did.”
“Care for you?” Now her heart had stopped for sure.
“When I looked at you tonight, I knew,” he said, holding her hands tightly. “You are so beautiful, so radiant, and I need you in my life. I love you, Mary Beth. I’ve always loved you.”
“Oh, Tom.” Tears streamed down her face.
He stroked her cheeks, wiping her tears away. “You said something a while ago about loving me before. Is there a chance you can learn to love me again?” His eyes, filled with pain and uncertainty, searched hers.
She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.
“I love you so much,” she said, sobbing. “I thought you couldn’t possibly love me.”
He pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. Joy had replaced the pain in his eyes. “You love me?”
“Yes, yes.” She laughed.
He kissed her then, a kiss filled with desire, passion and promise. She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the fervor and love she’d held inside for so many years. She knew that no matter what happened in their life together, they’d always have the passion, and the love, to see them through.
He pulled away to stare into her eyes. “Marry me, Mary Beth. As soon as possible.”
She nodded. “I’d marry you tonight if I could.”
He laughed and grazed her lips with his finger. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you, Cat Eyes.”
She took his hand and kissed his palm. “We’ll spend the rest of our lives loving each other. Let’s go home.”
“Not yet,” he said, standing. He grabbed her hand and pulled her gently up. “First, we’re going back to that ball and I’m announcing to everyone that the beautiful, intelligent Mary Beth Kendrick has made me the happiest man in the world.”
**Thank you for taking the time to read A Catered Romance. On the following pages you will find excerpts of Murder, Mi Amore by Cara Marsi and The Memory Bouquet by Sandra Edwards.**
MURDER, MI AMORE
by
Cara Marsi
CHAPTER ONE
A prickly sensation, like someone breathing on the back of her neck, sent chills slithering down Lexie Cortese’s spine. She glanced around the small, exclusive leather goods shop on one of Rome’s busiest streets. A well-dressed older woman perused a richly sequined evening bag while a smiling saleswoman looked on. A middle-aged man, dressed in a beautifully tailored gray suit, studied a display case of couture handbags. Nothing sinister. Yet the feeling of being followed had started before she’d entered the shop and had grown stronger in the forty-five minutes she’d been there.
“Signorina? Carta di credito?” Lexie started at the saleswoman’s words and turned back to her with an apologetic smile. Although she couldn’t speak Italian, Lexie had done enough shopping to know the saleswoman wanted her credit card. She dug into her plain black shoulder bag, pushing aside the bright scarf she’d tied on the handle to liven it up a bit, pulled out her card and handed it to the woman. As she waited for the clerk to ring up the sale, someone jostled her. “Scusi, per favore.” The middle-aged man in the gray suit had bumped her. His flat black eyes bore into hers, as if sending her a message. She backed away. “No problema,” she said, hoping she had the Italian right. With a cold smile, he moved on, heading to the door.
Clutching her shopping bag with one hand and holding her shoulder bag tightly against her, she left the shop and joined the throngs of pedestrians on the Via Corsi. Despite the festive atmosphere from shoppers and tourists enjoying an unseasonably warm April day, Lexie couldn’t shake the feeling that someone followed her. Was it the man who’d bumped into her, the one with the dead eyes? She shouldered her way along the crowded street and looked behind her. He wasn’t there. God, she was becoming paranoid, letting her imagination run amok. Nevertheless, she tightened her grip on the shopping bag that contained the way-too-expensive dark green designer handbag she’d just purchased. Rome was as well-known for its pickpockets and muggers as for its art and history. Why would anyone follow her, an ordinary tourist?
Then again, she wasn’t ordinary any more. Not since she’d come to Rome. And now she had a new handbag to go with her new attitude. In the past two weeks, the cautious, always-do-what’s-right-eager-to-please-everyone Lexie Cortese had become a confident, take-charge woman. For all of her twenty-eight years she’d done what others wanted—her parents, her teachers, that louse Jerry. But no more. Smiling at a vendor selling flowers, she inhaled the heady perfume of early spring blooms and put a little bounce in her step. A good-looking twenty-something man nodded to her as he passed. Lots of handsome Italian men had flirted with her in the two weeks she’d been here. Sure helped make up for what that scum of an ex-fiancé had done. From now on she’d do whatever she damn well pleased. Spend a month in Rome? Check. Buy a designer bag that cost more than a month’s pay? Done. Have a fling with a sexy Italian, then walk away, in control, her heart untouched? Not so sure about that one, but she could hope.
To celebrate the new Lexie, she’d have a glass of wine. Maybe even two gl
asses. The Trevi Fountain was close. She’d enjoy her drink in the popular piazza admiring old Neptune and his trident. The prickly feeling swept over her again, raising goose bumps on her arms. She stopped and scanned the street. Nothing. Damn it! Her imagination was in overdrive. It had to be. Thirsty for some calming wine, she hurried toward the piazza. She found a seat at one of the outdoor tables directly across from old Neptune and ordered a glass of Pinot Noir. The piazza buzzed with tourists snapping pictures and throwing their three coins in the famous fountain. She’d made her three wishes the day she’d arrived. Wish one—that she’d find success in her new job and in grad school; wish two—that she’d come back to Rome, maybe even study here; and three—that someday she’d find real love and happiness. Whatever real happiness was.
When her wine arrived, she held the glass up in salute to Neptune. Okay, water boy, do your stuff. Grant my wishes and toss a little excitement my way. With a smile, she took a sip. The rich liquid flowed down her throat, soothing her jumbled nerves. How foolish she’d been to feel so unsettled earlier. Maybe traces of the old, skittish Lexie lingered. A movement from a side street near the fountain snagged her attention. A man wearing jeans and a hoodie shot from the street, running directly toward… Her? Lexie gasped and grabbed her purse from the tabletop as the man raced past and snatched her shopping bag from the ground next to her. “Hey!” Lexie jumped to her feet. “That’s mine!”
The man ignored her, clutching the bag with her new, expensive purse against his chest like a football as he sprinted down a small alleyway. “Somebody stop him!” she shouted, knocking over the table. The wine goblet shattered onto the cobblestones, splattering red wine all over her black sandals. The piazza erupted in cries and frantic calls for the police. Onlookers, yelling in several languages, pointed toward the narrow street where the thief had disappeared. Several men ran after him. Lexie started to follow them. “Stay, signorina,” her waiter implored, grabbing her arm and holding her back. His eyes, wide and stricken, darted from her to the piazza. “See. The police. They are coming.” He pointed out two policemen racing toward the alleyway. “Please, signorina, sit, have some wine. No charge.” He pulled out a chair at a freshly made up table. Another waiter stood close, holding a full glass of wine out to Lexie. Reluctantly, she turned away from the chase. “Thank you.” She sank into the chair and took the proffered wine, grasping the glass tightly to control her sudden trembling as she noticed people staring.
