A Night of No Return

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘I brought my colouring pens. We can draw the fish. And I want you to draw me a playhouse for my garden at home. Daddy says you draw buildings so you’d be the best person to do that.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘I forgot to say please,’ Ella muttered, contrite. ‘Please. Please.’

  ‘Well … all right. We’ll design your playhouse together.’

  ‘Can we have a fish tank in it? That way I can charge people to come and look at them.’

  Emma smothered a smile, wondering if commercial vision was welded into the Ferrara DNA.

  She wanted to see Lucas’s expression but she didn’t want to intrude on what was undoubtedly an important moment for him. The question was, would Ella’s trust be enough to restore Lucas’s belief in himself?

  To prevent herself from walking out there to see what was happening, she went to the bathroom and locked herself in and spent the next hour relaxing in the bath, ready to leap out of the water if Lucas called.

  But he didn’t call. And when she’d dried her hair and dressed she just couldn’t hide away any longer and walked into the living room to find both of them eating bowls of ice cream ordered from room service. Scattered on the floor next to them were several large pieces of paper covered in pencil drawings.

  Emma raised her eyebrows. ‘This looks fun.’

  ‘We’re playing tea parties. Lucas let me order from room service.’ Ella pushed a spoon towards her doll as she pretended to ‘feed’ her. ‘Guess what? Lucas has designed me a playhouse. I helped.’

  Lucas, Lucas, Lucas. Every other word was Lucas.

  Emma knelt down on the floor next to the little girl and looked more closely at the drawings. Like most architects, Lucas usually used computer software for his plans. In this case he’d used a ruler and pencil but the drawing was no less detailed for the lack of technology or the unusual nature of the ‘building’. Emma caught his eye and he gave a faint smile as he read her mind.

  ‘North elevation,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t see any reason not to do it properly. It’s a relief to know I can still use a pencil.’

  A lump grew in her throat. This was a man who had designed some of the most iconic structures of recent years and there was something endearing about the attention he’d given to this project. Just one glance told her that Ella Ferrara was going to have the most beautiful playhouse any child had ever had.

  Ella finished her ice cream and sprawled on her stomach, absorbed by the project they were creating together, oblivious to the significance of the encounter. ‘Can I colour it in?’

  ‘Colour away.’ Lucas handed her the coloured pens and she took them and stared hard at the drawing.

  ‘Lucas, can it have a chimney?’

  He studied the drawing. ‘Now why didn’t I think of that? A chimney would be perfect. Where do you think it should go?’

  ‘Here.’ She stabbed her finger into the paper and Lucas handed her the pencil.

  ‘Good decision. Draw it on. And any time you want to join my company just let me know.’

  ‘You two have certainly been busy.’ Smiling, Emma sat down next to them and helped herself to ice cream. ‘Healthy breakfast, Lucas.’

  ‘One bowl of ice cream isn’t going to hurt her. We’ve ordered toast if you’d rather wait for that. You might want to move that chimney to the right a bit, Ella—’

  Watching the little girl carefully drawing a chimney onto the plans while Lucas helped her, Emma wondered if he even realised how natural he was with the child and how much time had passed while the two of them had been designing their playhouse. At some point over the last few hours he’d forgotten the weight of responsibility and focused instead on just occupying her. And whatever he believed about himself, Emma saw the care he showed. It was evident in everything. From his infinite patience with the little girl, to the way he listened carefully to her every request.

  When room service arrived with an order of hot toast, it was Lucas who spread the butter and then deftly cut windows and a door before presenting it to the little girl.

  Watching, Emma wondered if he even realised what he’d just done.

  ‘Oh!’ Ella’s face brightened as she stared at the plate. ‘A toast house. With a chimney. I want my toast like this always and for ever. You have to teach my dad.’

  Lucas stared at the plate, his breathing shallow.

  Staring at the intimidating set of his features, Ella’s smile faltered. ‘I forgot the please again,’ she said in a small voice. ‘You’re angry because I forgot the please.’

  He squatted down to her level and smiled at her. ‘I’m not angry. And I’m glad you like the toast.’

  ‘It’s the best thing ever.’ Ella hesitated and then reached out and picked up the chimney. ‘I’m eating the chimney first. Then I’m going to eat the door.’

  Over the top of her head, Lucas’s eyes met Emma’s briefly and then he turned his attention back to the child. ‘Ella, this is my friend Emma and you’re going to play with her for a while because I have to—’

  ‘You can’t leave.’ Ella slipped her hand into his. ‘Our house isn’t finished. If you’re hungry, you can share my toast.’ Carefully, she selected a window and slid it into Lucas’s mouth.

  ‘Ella—’

  ‘More?’

  ‘No.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘No more.’

  ‘You forgot to say thank you.’ Ella gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Don’t worry. Remembering is hard, isn’t it?’

  Lucas breathed deeply. ‘Yes. Remembering is hard.’

  ‘I’ll help you if you help me.’ Ella crawled onto his lap with the rest of her toast. ‘I like staying with you. It’s fun and you don’t tell me off when I forget to say please. Can we do this again?’

  Emma discovered that she was holding her breath. Perhaps it was too much. Perhaps it just wasn’t going to—

  ‘Yes—’ Lucas rescued the plate before the buttered toast landed on his lap ‘—we can do this again. I’m going to be coming to Sicily soon to discuss a new hotel with your daddy. If you like, I could build that playhouse for you.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Ella beamed and flung her arms around his neck and Emma turned away quickly, tidying up some crayons to hide the tears on her face.

  He’d made her a toast house, the way he used to with his daughter. And now he was promising to help her build the playhouse. That was progress, surely?

  It was too soon to be sure, but she was confident that Cristiano’s idea had been a good one. He’d trusted his friend with his most precious possession and that trust would hopefully propel Lucas forward a few steps.

  And she had to move forward too. She had to stop avoiding things that she found difficult and face them.

  She had to have an honest conversation with her sister.

  Knowing that it was time to leave, she made her excuses and left the two of them together while she returned to her own bedroom to pack, breaking off only to send an email.

  ‘This came for you.’ Lucas stood in the doorway, an envelope in his hand and his eyes on the suitcase. ‘You’re still planning on leaving today?’

  ‘I want to spend time with Jamie. Has Ella gone?’

  ‘Cristiano just picked her up.’ His eyes were still on the suitcase. ‘Apparently Chiara is doing fine.’

  Emma kept her eyes down, afraid of revealing that there had never been anything wrong with the eldest Ferrara daughter. They’d all agreed that only the threat of an emergency would have induced Lucas to look after the little girl and it had been worth the deception.

  His hand covered hers as she pushed a pair of shoes into the case. ‘If I asked you to stay another day, would you?’ His tone was raw and her heart pounded.

  ‘Is some aspect of my work unfinished?’

  ‘This isn’t about work. The work is done. If you stayed it would be about the two of us.’

  Emma closed her eyes because it was so, so tempting. It would have been so easy to stay. So easy to fool herself th
at if she stayed his feelings might change. But she wasn’t going to do that to herself. Or to him.

  Reluctantly, she extracted her hand from his, horrified by how difficult it felt to do that. ‘I have to go, Lucas.’

  ‘One more day.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  There was a long, tense silence and then he stepped back, his eyes guarded. ‘Right. Good decision. I’ll see you back in the office after Christmas. Aren’t you going to open the letter?’

  ‘It’s not for me.’ She folded the last of her clothes into the case she’d bought at the mall. ‘It’s for you. You should open it. It will save me the bother of putting it in another envelope.’ From behind her she could hear the sound of the envelope being torn open. And then there was silence.

  ‘Your letter of resignation.’ His voice was flat and devoid of expression. ‘I thought we’d dealt with this once. You agreed there was no need for you to leave.’

  ‘There was no need to leave when we’d had one night of sex.’ Emma closed the case and lifted it off the bed and onto the floor. ‘There is every reason to leave now I know I’m in love with you.’

  He stilled. ‘About that—’

  ‘If you’re going to tell me that I don’t know my own mind, then let me stop you right there.’ She let go of the case and straightened. ‘I’ve told you about my father, but I’ve never told you about my mother.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘She had a real talent for falling in love with men who couldn’t love her back. Instead of walking away, somehow she always managed to convince herself that if she stuck at it, they’d come round. She did it with my father, even after he walked out leaving her to cope with a baby on her own. And then she did the same thing with her boss.’ She saw understanding dawn in his eyes and nodded. ‘That’s right. Jamie is the result of an affair that my mother had with her boss. She fell in love with him. Unfortunately he didn’t feel the same way about her but instead of leaving, she stayed. And the longer she stayed, the more she hoped.’ And, for the first time, she’d been given a glimpse of just how hard it had probably been for her mother. And how easy it would be to take strands of hope and spin them into something substantial and meaningful.

  ‘Emma—’

  ‘No, don’t say a word. You have no idea how much I want to pretend to myself that I can carry on working for you and that the way I feel won’t be a problem. But I know it will be a problem. I’ll have to see you every day, but not tell you how I feel. I’ll have to take phone calls from the women you see and keep smiling while I do it, and I can’t do that, Lucas.’ She had to force the words out. ‘I won’t live my life hoping that one day I’m going to wake up and find my dream has become reality. I won’t do that to myself.’

  He watched her for a long moment and then paced across the elegant bedroom and stared out across the private swimming pool.

  She waited for him to say what he was thinking and, as the silence stretched, so a tiny flicker of hope bloomed somewhere deep inside her. Even without her permission, it bloomed. And this was how it started, she thought. If she stayed, it would be like this. In every word and action, she’d be searching for a different meaning. Hoping, just as she was hoping now.

  He drew back his shoulders, those strong, muscular shoulders that she now knew so well.

  ‘You have a notice period.’ His voice was businesslike. ‘It won’t be easy to replace you.’

  And, just like that, hope died. The pain was sharp, like falling onto broken glass. She wondered if her mother had felt like that every day and, if so, how she had managed to get back up and keep going back for more.

  ‘There’s no need to worry about replacing me. I’ve already done it. Fiona Hawkings is currently working for John in Accounts and she’s just what you need. Efficient, competent and not remotely interested in anything except a professional relationship. She was going to cover for me during my holiday so she’s already fully briefed and if she has a problem then she has my number.’

  Lucas’s expression didn’t change. ‘You already had someone lined up?’

  ‘If I’d been knocked over by a bus, someone needed to know how to run your office. So you’re sorted. No need to worry.’

  ‘And what about you? Is it wise to give up your job without another one to go to?’

  No. But it was wiser than staying because every day she stayed would make it harder to leave. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m good at what I do. I’m going to find a job nearer to home and try and get some sort of balance in my life. I certainly don’t have that at the moment. I want to spend time with Jamie, not just at weekends, but during the week too. I want to be able to go out in the evening occasionally without feeling guilty because I’m only at home for forty-eight hours.’ She gave a half smile. ‘I want to go dancing.’ She said the words even though right now she didn’t feel as if she’d ever be able to dance again.

  ‘Will your sister approve?’

  ‘Probably not.’ And telling her was something she was dreading. ‘That’s something I need to deal with, I know I do. I’ve been avoiding it because it felt difficult.’

  ‘Talking of avoiding things because they feel difficult—’ his voice was harsh ‘—was it your idea to give Ella to me to look after?’

  She shook her head. ‘Cristiano’s. You think you’ve never been loved, Lucas, but you’re so wrong. Maybe your family didn’t love you but you have friends who love you. Cristiano and Laurel, Mal—’ she blushed ‘—I mean the Crown Prince. They all love you like a brother. And Ella, of course—’ she managed a light smile ‘—she adores you.’

  His gaze didn’t shift from her face. ‘And you.’

  ‘Yes, me. But I don’t love you as a brother.’ Trying not to think about that, she picked up her case. ‘I’m not using the jet. I’m not working for you any more so it seemed like a liberty.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Emma, use the jet.’ He sounded irritable and angry but she knew it was just because she’d shaken up his routine. Lucas Jackson liked his life to run smoothly and her leaving was threatening that. He was worried that his business would suffer.

  ‘Goodbye Lucas. Be kind to Fiona. And to yourself.’ And without looking back, she walked towards the door.

  ‘I’ll hold the job open until the end of the month. Just in case your sister has a meltdown.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that. When I explain, she’ll understand.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘YOU resigned? Oh my God, are you mad?’

  ‘I’m not mad. It was a well thought out decision.’ The only decision she could have made and she clung to that belief as her sister’s censorship and judgement eroded her self-confidence like acid rain. ‘Don’t worry, Angie. I’ll find another job. And please calm down or you’ll worry Jamie.’

  ‘Worry Jamie? What about me? Don’t you think I’m worried? I don’t earn enough to support us all, Emma. I already have enough responsibility.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to support us all and I intend to take on more of the responsibility.’ Emma forced herself to stay calm. ‘I’ve told you—I’ll find another job. I’ve already started to look and I’ve called a few people I know.’

  ‘Why didn’t you do that before you resigned? I mean why the sudden hurry? What happened?’ Her sister paced the tiny kitchen and then suddenly stopped and turned, eyes riveted to Emma’s face. ‘Oh no—’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You slept with him, didn’t you? You slept with your boss. That’s what happened.’

  Hearing her sister reduce her feelings to no more than a sordid encounter upset her more than she would have imagined possible. Suddenly she wished she had a different relationship with her sister. One in which she could confide and express her real feelings. She thought about the lovely chat she’d had with Avery and wished it could have been that way with her sister. The irony was that she’d been more open and honest with Lucas than she was with Angie. ‘I’ll get another job. That’s all you need to know.’

  An
gie didn’t appear to be listening. ‘Knowing what happened to Mum, you slept with your boss?’

  ‘I am not Mum. This is different.’

  ‘How is it different?’ Angie started clattering around the kitchen, crashing mugs together as she unloaded the dishwasher. ‘Don’t tell me, you love him and you think if you resign you can have a relationship. You think he’ll suddenly waltz up here and ask you to marry him, is that it? Oh God, you’re exactly like her. Delusional! A total dreamer.’

  Emma was shaking. ‘I am none of those things and that isn’t what I’m thinking. I’m nothing like Mum and I don’t want to talk about it any more because you just don’t listen.’ She couldn’t even allow herself to think how her life was going to be without Lucas. It had only been a day and already she was aching.

  But her sister seemed oblivious to her feelings. ‘You had an amazing job and you’ve thrown it all away for nothing.’ Another clatter of plates. ‘You seem to have forgotten your responsibility towards Jamie. Lucas Jackson is not the settling-down type, Emma. Anyone can see that.’

  ‘And I don’t blame him for that, given his experience of family.’ Struggling with her own feelings, unable to cope with her sister’s too, Emma lost it. ‘And you are supposed to be my family. You are supposed to love me and care about me. Instead all you do is yell at me and blame me and think about yourself.’

  Angie looked taken aback. ‘I do love you! That’s why I’m so upset that you’ve done this.’