by R. M. Healy
The kitchen was modern and straightforward with all the best mod-cons. Only last week, she'd signed a year lease for the place, and now it would be home for the following year. Although she wouldn't miss Michael, her ex-husband, she would miss coming home knowing someone was there.
That someone was her old Alsatian dog, Ron. He'd died just before the divorce, and Esther missed him so much. She'd had that dog since she was 16, and he'd been with her since she moved in with Michael. With his death came the end of their unhappy marriage.
Now she was all alone in her swanky apartment and about heat up leftovers from work.
Esther hated thinking negatively, yet she felt like a failure for being divorced at 27, but she couldn’t stay in a relationship that made her unhappy. She had planned to travel for her work, but her mother had called to tell her she was struggling, so Esther moved back to the city.
She dished up her food and walked through to the living room, switching on the TV and sitting on the couch.
In front of her were the open flyers she'd been looking at last night. She'd looked at several charities but couldn't decide which one she wanted to volunteer at.
Her first consideration was at the place her sister now called home, but she knew that would be negative against her sister's progress in the future.
Eating the food from the carton, she turned on the TV. Tomorrow she would have a good look through her options and decide what to do. She knew the real reason she wanted to fill her nights with charity work was to fill the lonely void inside of her.
She and Michael met in high school and were each other's first loves. Both were of Korean heritage and bonded over it. But they had outgrown each other a long time ago, taking different paths in life. Micheal had already begun dating, and Esther was happy for him.
They promised to stay friends after the divorce, but they had little in common anymore. Michael worked from home on his PC, hated socializing, didn't want children, and preferred his own company.
Esther hated being alone, enjoyed traveling, and wanted her own family by the time she was 35.
She knew that change was a part of life, and the divorce was best for both of them, but it didn't make it any easier. Her career over the years meant she traveled too often to have any real friends, and her father resented her for breaking up with Micheal.
The landline began to ring, and she checked the clock on the wall. It was too late for her sister or parents to call, which meant it could only be someone from work.
Putting the food down, she walked over to the phone on the wall.
"Hello?"
"Esther! How are you? Are you busy?" Rosa Romano asked, her Italian accent still present after 30 years in America.
Esther smiled as the other woman spoke. She was very fond of Mrs. Romano and often thought of her more as an aunt than a boss.
"Hey Rosa, no, I'm not busy. Just watching TV. And I am very well thanks, how about you and Mr. Romano?"
"We are good, too, yes. My husband got back from England yesterday with Anton. It's a shame I could not go, doctors’ orders."
Rosa hadn't felt up to traveling the past couple of weeks and had rung Esther almost every day. Whether Esther was at work or home, the woman still wanted to talk. In truth, Esther enjoyed the calls as it was nice to have someone interested in what she was doing.
"Are you feeling better now? I know you don't want to miss your trip to Italy, Rosa."
"Oh, I will be better for Italy! Nothing keeps me down for long. I heard my son was up to no good earlier? That little pest."
Laughing, Esther replied, "Yes, he came in with a rather attractive blonde, and believe it or not, he left a tip this time."
"Hmmm, strange. I will miss my boy when he moves to New York," Rosa said sadly.
"I am sure he will come and see you often," Esther knew that he probably wouldn't. Rosa told Esther that he rarely stayed at the farmhouse when he was in town.
"I hope so too. I might come into the restaurant with my husband for dinner soon, and you can join us, too, yes?"
"Of course, Rosa. Just let me know the date, and I will make sure I am in."
"Yes, ok. Goodnight, Esther. Call me if you need anything," Rosa abruptly said.
"Goodbye, Rosa, you too."
Hanging up, Esther sighed and cleaned up her food cartons. She wasn't at work until the next afternoon and knew she was in for a dull morning.
Her sister's carers recommended sticking to her routine visits, so Esther couldn't drop by and say hello to her.
As she was in the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of rose wine, ready to sit down in bed with her tablet and listen to some music as she had most nights over the past two weeks.
She had to change her routine. Otherwise, she was going to slip into that dark place she hated.
Chapter Three
Anton looked at the decrepit old warehouse in front of him as he pulled up. It wasn't the most luxurious location he'd shot at, but it also wasn't the worse.
Sometimes the people in charge of the advertising campaigns had crazy ideas about how they wanted the shoot to turn out, and he'd already done some weird things in his past.
But a warehouse was pretty standard. The problem with this one was the fact it looked close to falling. The photographer, Spencer, was standing just outside the doorway, smoking a cigarette, as he spotted Anton walking over.
"Milly is a bitch. Just because she's quit smoking doesn't mean the rest of us should have to stand outside," Spencer moaned and took a long drag of the slim stick.
"You should quit, Spence," Anton joked and walked inside.
Milly, the woman in charge, was adjusting the bedding and lights in the middle of the warehouse floor, surrounded by two white screens. He had no idea why they needed to do the shoot in a warehouse if they were going to be using white screens.
There was already an area set up where the female model was getting her hair touched up and her makeup done.
"Anton! You're late. Sit down, Jamie will do your makeup," Milly snapped, squinting at him through her glasses with her thin lips in a tight line.
He wasn't late, and he knew it. But he couldn't be bothered to argue before they'd started shooting. Milly was a crazy control freak, her hair was always in a tight bun, and she wore the same brown suit every time he'd met her.
Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, he would be working in New York and not with the likes of crazy Milly and cigarette stinking Spencer. He took the seat beside the other model and took out his phone while he waited. As he read an email from his agency, he heard the loud noise, which sounded like a helicopter.
"What's that noise?" He asked Milly.
"The generator. It works, and that's all that matters. Now Jamie, get to work on Anton. I want this shoot to start asap," the woman said, still adjusting the blue silk bedding.
The sooner this was over, the better.
Thirty minutes later, they were ready to shoot.
Spencer and Milly had argued another two times about how Anton and the female model, Jenny, should be positioned on the silky sheets and had finally agreed.
Several photos were taken of him and Jenny kissing, embracing each other, and staring lovingly into each other's eyes. All while keeping the expensive watches in the pictures.
"Ok, time for Jenny's solo," Milly said.
Anton stood back watching, waiting for his solo shoots. His torso was cold from the lack of a t-shirt, and he was annoyed that no dressing gown was provided.
Between photos, Jenny was shivering, covering her bare breast with her arms, again the watch prominent.
She was a stunning woman, but Anton wasn't in the mood to seduce anyone today.
As the model rolled around in the sheets, he could see why they'd picked him and Jenny to model together. Both with tanned skin, dark hair, with brown eyes. They had a very similar exotic look to them and would look good together in the photos.
"Ok, Anton," Milly gestured for him to swap places with Jenny
, and so he did.
He lay on his side and rested his head on his elbow, his other hand across his abs.
"Perfect," Spencer said, snapping the pictures, "now on your back with that fur throw on your chest."
Anton looked at Milly and almost laughed when he saw her eyes drop to his waistline when he put the throw over his shoulder. She saw that he'd spotted her and immediately looked angry. Then, spinning around on her heel, she marched away to the refreshment area with Jenny.
As he looked up at the camera lens, he began to smell what seemed to be something burning.
"Can you smell that?" He asked Spencer, who was intently looking at the camera.
"Hmm, probably just one of those factories burning something," Spencer turned around and began flicking through the photos, "stay there for just a sec, I'll get the other watch we need to shoot with, and then we can take the scaffolding pictures."
Anton rolled onto his side and stared at the screen. Milly should have been getting the watches but instead was embarrassed and still facing the other way on her phone, standing far away.
A subtle crackling noise filled Anton's ears, and that's when he realized the generator noise had stopped. The smell of fire was more pungent now, and as Anton looked around, he saw the dark smoke.
He sat up and looked up at the white screen, and it looked unsteady.
"Er, guys!" Anton shouted as he was about to stand up.
That's when the white screen collapsed on him, and as he tried to move, he saw the orange flames flickering in front of him. He dragged the sheet away from his face, but it was too late.
Pain like nothing he'd ever experienced took over his body, and he shouted as he saw the orange glow lighting up the throw on his chest and the sheets he lay on.
A disturbing noise left his lips as the flames came into contact with his flesh. The last thing he felt was the horrifying pain of his skin burning.
"Oh, it's such a pretty day," Rosa said to her husband as she looked out of the small window, "Isabelle's roses are so colorful today."
She turned around and looked at her husband of 30 years, who sat reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.
Anthony put the paper down and smiled at her.
Rosa still loved him as much as the day they got married all those years ago. His hair might have turned grey, and his dark eyes may have wrinkles around them, but no one would be more handsome to her.
She smiled as she rolled the dough. She was going to make manicotti shells with beef and cheese stuffing, Anton’s favorite. Her smile left her lips, and she let out a sigh.
"I hope Anton will stop by tonight before he leaves for New York," she said, her voice sad, "I can't believe he's decided to go there a week early. I thought we'd have the week to say goodbye."
As she continued to roll the dough, her husband came behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder. The familiar gesture comforted her.
"He has to work, Rosa, plus, I think it will help him grown up. I worry that we spoilt him too much. Don't get upset. I will call him now and make sure he comes tonight."
In her heart, Rosa knew Anton was a good boy. Unfortunately, when he was a child, he lost the person closest to him and blamed himself. Rosa knew she could never change that. But she could do everything else in her power to make her son happy.
Her husband disagreed with spoiling him. However, he kept quiet because he knew it would hurt Rosa's feelings.
"You carry on cooking, I will call him," he kissed her on the cheek and slapped her bum before he walked away. He heard her giggle and smiled, relieved she wasn't still dwelling on their son's absence.
Anthony loved his son. But he was beginning to worry about how he treated others and what kind of future he would have. If Anton carried on the way he was now, Anthony knew his son would be all alone with no one to blame but himself.
Of course, since his little sister had died, he'd never truly bonded with anyone since. Rosa said it was because he was scared of losing someone again, and she was probably right. That didn't give him an excuse to be rude to others.
Stopping by his shed, Anthony pulled out his old mobile and tried to call his son.
There was no answer. Anthony knew his son was always on that mobile of his. Why wouldn't he be answering? His modeling shoot should have been finished over an hour ago.
He scrolled down his contacts and found the agency that represented his son. Anton would moan at his father for calling them, but Anthony was beginning to worry.
"Hello, HY models here. How can I help?" A chirpy English woman said.
"Hi, I am calling to speak to someone who might be able to put me in contact with a model called Anton Romano?"
"Could you hold the line, please, sir?"
"Yeah, sure," Anthony sat down on the bench and waited, listening as the upbeat song played through the phone. Then, a few moments later, the music stopped.
"Who is this?" The panicked American voice asked, "you asked for Romano?"
"Yes. Anton is my son. I wondered if you could tell me if his shoot ran over today it's just--"
Anthony was annoyed when the person on the line cut him short.
"You mean no one has called you?"
"Called me? About what?" Anthony said.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry. There was an accident... Anton got rushed to the hospital."
Anthony felt his face flush, and his hands began to shake.
"He's alive, last I heard from my assistant. I'll forward you the zip code for the hospital. I'm sorry, I thought you knew."
Instead of replying, Anthony cut the line short and quickly ran inside the house, ignoring the pain in his stiff joints.
"Rosa, get your shoes on. We need to leave. Somethings happened to Anton. He's at the hospital."
Anthony and Rosa wouldn't be able to carry on if they lost another child. They couldn't go through that kind of pain again.
Chapter Four
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to do most evenings. I am available Monday and Wednesday morning if you’re still interested?”
“Oh, that’s perfect. I’ll send the rest of the information to you in an email, and you just call me when you’re free to come by. I look forward to seeing you. Thanks again, Miss Lee.”
When the woman put the phone down, Esther let out a sigh of relief. After spending all morning looking through the leaflets, she’d picked a charity to volunteer for.
As rewarding as her job here at Romano’s Italian was, she needed more.
Putting the leaflet back in her bag, she turned back to her PC and read the email from Sally, who was in charge of advertising and public relations.
Looking at the spreadsheets, everything seemed in good order as it should have been.
“Esther?” Stacey said, peeking her head around the door to the office.
“Stacey?” Esther said, raising her eyebrows at the younger woman.
“Guess who’s here again?” The petite brunette said, excitement in her high-pitched voice.
“Who?” Esther had a suspicion of who Stacey would say.
“That blonde bombshell Anton came in with last night. She’s with James Cape too!”
The momentary disappointment Esther felt was ridiculous. As if Esther wanted to see Anton. She couldn’t blame the beautiful blonde he’d brought in last night for ditching him and dating a famous Hollywood heartthrob like James.
“Good for her. And us too, all these famous faces coming in will increase the restaurant's popularity. I’m hoping this architect will design this new outdoor area overlooking the pier with as many new tables as possible. Heavens knows we need the space.”
Stacey frowned as she looked at Esther, “Did Mr. Romano say yes then?”
“No, but he will. It’s within his best interests. Anyway, no more gossiping. Go and make sure things are running smoothly out there.”
Grinning, Stacey nodded before leaving the office.
She’d call her boss first thing tomorrow to talk about her proposed ideas for the restaurant. He’d given her complete freedom to do whatever she wanted because of how successful the company had been under her supervision.
But regardless of having the freedom, she still liked to consult him on any serious decisions.
She began printing all the documents to show Mr. Romano and decided to pop to the toilet as she waited.
It seemed either her timing was wrong, or Anton’s date from the previous night had followed her into the toilets. When Esther walked out of the cubicle, the other woman touched up her already perfect makeup in the mirror.
“Hey,” the blonde said.
“Hi,” Esther replied, smiling confidently at the model in the mirror.
“Sorry, my name is Elsa. No hard feelings about yesterday. I know what kind of man Anton is,” Elsa said, reapplying her pink gloss.
Esther was relieved the other woman wasn’t hostile. She knew some women wouldn’t take kindly to their date, hitting on another woman. Regardless of the fact, it wasn’t always the other woman's fault.
“Thank you. I’m glad you didn’t let Anton walk all over you and found a much better-looking man so quickly. You deserve a lot better than Anton, believe me,” Esther said, drying her hands.
“James is handsome, but he’s not got the charisma Anton has. I think we both know there are very few men as attractive as Anton Romano. As few people as stunning as yourself, I imagine, which makes me question, why aren’t you a model yourself? Or are you?”
Elsa’s compliment completely took Esther by surprise. Esther had been told by many people she had the looks to be a model, that didn’t mean she wanted to be one.
“It’s just not for me. Thanks for the compliment. I’d tell you how beautiful you are, but I guess you hear that at least ten times a day.”
“Yes, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. Anyway, I best get back to James. Good luck with Anton,” Elsa smiled and left Esther feeling confused about her last words.
