They reached the open-sided cafe, the top covered with a canvas awning, and sat at a small wooden table with their food. She picked up the saltcellar and freely sprinkled her chips. He leaned towards her and she drew back.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her heart pounding in her chest like a blacksmith’s mallet.
His fingers grazed her chin. “You have salt on your chin.” His gaze deepened as he licked the salt from his finger. Her breath caught in her throat.
To ease her thudding heart, she said easily, “Did I spill any?”
Edoardo drew back. “Surely you’re not superstitious?” he said.
She pressed her lips together. “I guess I am a little superstitious.”
“Spilling salt is more of a legend,” he pronounced. “Salt is used in the preparation of holy water and it wasn’t uncommon to put salt into a coffin.”
“What! What did you say?” she paused with her mouth open and stared at him. “A coffin!”
He laughed at her knocked for six expression. “Satan hates salt.”
“Is this for real?” He nodded and she laughed delightedly. “How do you know about this salt business?”
“No mystery. I did research on ancient legends for a paper I was preparing for uni.”
“You’re terrific.” The words tumbled from her mouth. “Do you know that?”
He grinned. “If you say so, makes me humbly agree.”
“You’re staring at me,” she said. He left her breathless. She was on a high as if she’d drunk too much champagne. She wanted him with the same feeling as wanting air.
“Am I?” His lips curled up. “Sorry.”
A strong, almost dangerous, response that left her feeling vulnerable and slightly afraid overcame her. “You like what you see?” she challenged.
“Very much so.”
She wanted to answer that she liked him too but her pride held the words back.
“Maybe a mutual admiration society?” he said with a soft chuckle.
“No comment on that, me lud.” A moment of silence followed.
He leaned over the table, right in Glory’s face and said casually, “Pretty soon, you’ll have to meet my parents.”
She pulled back as far as her chair allowed. Was he kidding? Meet the parents? No way. She’d met enough of his contemporaries, friends, and strangers even, to last a lifetime. Parents, to put it frantically, were way off her to-visit list.
“Why must I meet your parents? Surely it’s not necessary,” she said. “After all, Edoardo, I’m the girlfriend and that’s for a short time only.” Her defence system took control. “I’m positive you don’t take all your girlfriends home to meet your parents; your mother would have to have a limitless supply of coffee and cake — besides which it would surely confuse them.”
“I’ve never taken a girl home to meet my parents.”
Contrite, she said, “Then why me?”
He looked away from her from a moment, before returning his gaze and saying, “She saw a photo of us in a magazine, and she’s upset that I haven’t brought you to meet her.” He laughed but it wasn’t a laugh of mirth. “Be warned, she wants me married.” Then hastily added. “Don’t worry, that’s a plunge I’ll never do again.”
Married? My God, she’d had no idea. “I didn’t know you’d been married,” she said in a low soft voice.
“Long story. It was years ago.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He hesitated then said, “Sophia was the daughter of my mother’s best friend. We grew up together; went to the same school. I took her to the school dance. First kiss.” He ran his fingers over the stubble on his chin. “You know the way it works.
“They threw us together at every opportunity. I was young, just twenty, and before I knew what was happening I was walking down the aisle.”
He threw back his head and studied the blue-and-white striped awning. Connecting his eyes to hers, he said, “She was obsessive in her love for me. Telephoning all hours of the day, even when she knew I was in court. Questioning me — or should I say giving me the third degree. And then the false accusations began. I was with another woman. I didn’t love her anymore. I stuck it for as long as I could then I left.”
He had her full attention now. “She threatened suicide. Took to stalking me. Waiting outside my apartment. Turning up at work at the most inopportune times.” He gave a slight shudder.
“That’s so awful,” she said, genuinely upset for him. “For both of you.”
“Yes, it was. Funny thing is, I believed in marriage,” he said. “The idea of one man and one woman making a life together, having children and a house in the burbs appealed to me.”
My sentiments exactly. “And now marriage has lost its appeal?”
“For years I kept my cool, trying to make a success of our marriage, until my nerves snapped and the heated arguments began. My life became unbearable and I knew Sophia’s life wasn’t fairing much better.
“So for both our sakes, I walked out and filed for divorce. The only thing that kept me sane was work, and I threw myself into that, working twelve, sometimes fourteen hours a day.”
She longed to reach over and touch him and comfort him. What right did she have to touch him? She didn’t belong to Edoardo. She was a surrogate woman in his private life. Someone he didn’t make promises to, apologies to.
A woman he didn’t have to love.
She’d always wondered why he was so shy of commitment. Now she knew — and who could blame him? He’d been burned and the scars still throbbed. He’d never take a chance like that again.
Glory’s heart ached for him and for her as well. Before she had a hope that he’d get tired of playing the field, but now there was no hope. Maybe in a strange weird way it was for the best, because now she’d simply concentrate on her Master Plan. Her love for him would settle somewhere deep inside her; and as years passed and she sat with her children by the fire, she’d remember and wonder …
He gave a slight shake to his head as if to rid it of old demons. “Trust me, I’ll never put myself though that hell again,” he said. His eyes went a misty blue, fascinating Glory by the intensity of their colour. “Never.”
Ignoring the pain in her heart, she said, “What happened to Sophia?”
“After around a year or so, she met someone else, a farmer from New Zealand. They married and she went with him to Auckland.”
“Is she happy now?”
He grinned. “Trust you to ask that question. According to my mother, yes, she’s happy. Ron, that’s her husband, is with her 24/7 and that’s what she’s always wanted.”
“Not all women are like your ex.”
He looked at her. That was all he did, looked at her, and love rushed through her like spring rain. “I don’t like that aspect of love,” he said softly. “I don’t like the controlling part of love.”
“Sometimes things get way out of our control,” she said.
“I like being in control. Control is good.”
“Me too.”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing. He looked at her so oddly, as if he were about to say something important and deciding against it.
His laugh was light, almost gay. “Hey, I’ve talked up a storm.”
And then he leaned over the table and kissed her lightly on the mouth. The very moment his lips met hers Glory lost the power to think. A deep yearning and a bottomless hunger for him overcame her.
“Want I should get you coffee?” he murmured against her lips.
“No.”
“Want a glass of milk?”
Heart thudding erratically in her chest, she shook her head.
A devilish look came into his eyes. “Want to go to bed with me?”
She quickly p
ulled her head back from his dynamic mouth. “What? What did you say?”
The smouldering brilliance of his eyes sent a flash of desire through her. “Can’t blame a man for trying.” His chuckle was deep and warm. “I’m having another Coke. Can I get you anything from the counter?”
She needed something to bring down her rapidly rising temperature. “I’d like an ice cream cone. A double-header. Vanilla. And in a crispy cone, not a cup.” Her voice was passionless, though her pulse hurdled like a sprinter in a race.
Glory studied Edoardo’s broad strong back as he walked to the counter, the way he stood, self-esteem and a touch of arrogance in his stride.
He’d made it totally clear that he would never marry again, and that was all she ever wanted.
A home and a family with her own Prince Charming.
CHAPTER FIVE
Glory had arranged to meet Kate for lunch at the Cherry Blossom Cafe, a familiar place, a comfortable place where they had spent many a lunch hour lamenting the woes of working in a law practice.
The cafe was located down a cobblestone side street at the top end of North Bourne Avenue. Yawning branches of a flowering cherry blossom stretched like a languid cat across the windows of the cafe.
Glory was the first to arrive. Choosing a table nearest the window, she ordered their lunch. Gazing down the street her eyes searched for Kate.
Kate walked as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Her hands dug deep into the pockets of her cropped coat. Her hair a glorious bright red, braided into two stiff plaits sticking out the side of her head like candy canes. Glory could tell, even from this distance, that Kate was whistling. She was such a sweet, familiar sight that Glory experienced a ray of comfort.
She gave Kate a small wave as she threaded her way around the tables to sit opposite her. “G’day,” she said brightly. “You look exhausted. You’ve got dark circles under the eyeballs.”
“Gee, thanks, Kate, I was feeling great till you came and put me straight.”
Kate studied her intently. “You’ve been dodging me. Why so?”
“I haven’t.”
“Glory, we haven’t spoken in depth for donks.” Again she scrutinized her face. “And I repeat, why?”
A prickly retort sprang to her lips. Glory swallowed it. “If this is how you address your friends, Kate, you should consider reading How to Win Friends and Influence People in great depth.”
Kate grinned widely, like the Cheshire cat out of Alice in Wonderland. “I consider edging up to things or sneaking through the back door, a complete and utter waste of time and energy.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Glory signalled for the waitress who immediately came and placed a platter of mixed sandwiches onto the table. “I got us some sandwiches,” she said, stating the obvious.
Kate reached for her purse. “Great,” she said. “How much do I owe?”
“My treat.”
“About time,” she grouched. “You owe me for three lunches already.”
Glory straightened up in her chair. “Ever heard of thanks.”
“Thanks.” Kate looked around. “Did you order some coffee?”
Glory nodded.
Choosing a cheese and green-pickle sandwich Kate took a generous bite. Munching, she mumbled, “This affair is a bit sudden, don’t cha think?”
Glory frowned. “You’ve got to stop this annoying habit, Kate.”
“What habit would that be, Glory?” she asked with phony innocence.
“Of coming directly to the point. It’s like being hit in the face with a sledge-hammer.” She nibbled, half-heartedly on a tomato and lettuce sandwich.
“Sorry,” Kate murmured, both knowing that she wasn’t the least bit sorry, nor did she intend changing lifelong habits. “Do you really like him, Glory? I mean what’s going on here?”
“Hey, what’s this — the third degree? I’m just having some fun and so is Edoardo. Okay?”
Kate chose another sandwich and looked into Glory’s eyes. She resisted the temptation to lower hers. If she couldn’t hold Kate’s gaze, Kate would put two and two together and come up with five.
Glory didn’t dare breathe a word of the subterfuge. The press, if they found out, it would kill Edoardo’s chances of becoming Mayor. Yet she hated keeping secrets from Kate. How would it look in her friend’s eyes if she said, Kate, this is a sham relationship. He doesn’t love me and never will. It’s a sort of bargain, that’s all. I’m helping him gain mayoral office, and he’s — he’s … a rat fink.
Kate straightened her back. “Look, I’ve known you long enough to give me the right to say exactly what I think. We talk about everything, you and me. There’s nothing I don’t know about you and vice versa, and all of a sudden, without as such as a how-do-you-do you clam up tighter than a miser’s purse.”
Glory reached over and touched her hand. “I don’t mean to hurt you. That’s the last thing I had in mind,” she said. “Why I’d rather put my head into a meat grinder than hurt you.”
Kate grinned. “Can I watch?”
Glory chuckled. “You’d faint. You know you can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“Just tell me how the affair began. I mean, did he come on to you, or did you come on to him? I’d put money on the latter.”
To tell Kate the truth was impossible, and she didn’t want to lie to her friend. She never had and she never would. Not big lies anyway. Not the lies that make people mistrust you. Little lies were okay, they were usually said to protect someone’s feeling.
Like when Kate asked how did she like her latest hairstyle or colour, and, even though it looked like Kate had been in a wind-tunnel and her hair sparkled like sequins on a clown costume, Glory would say it was great.
But this time if she told Kate that she’d insisted Edoardo pay Kate the bonus, Kate would immediately give the money back to Edoardo and quit her job.
She couldn’t allow that to happen. No way. She wanted her friend out of harm’s way and protected as much as was within her power. Kate had enough on her plate being a single mum to a boisterous four-year-old.
“I couldn’t fight the urge.” She shrugged. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. Not for me and certainly not for Edoardo. You know how he is, a different girl for every night of the week.”
Kate’s eyes squinted as if to see her better. “Yes, that’s why this is all so fishy.” She gave a slow nod. “You told me how much you hated his inconsequentiality where women were concerned.”
“Kate, it truly is only a smidgen of fun on my part,” Glory said brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Trust me.”
“Yes. Last time I did that, they stole the cutlery. Come on, Glory, ’fess up.”
Tears stung her eyes and she savagely wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “For heaven’s sake, Kate,” she said quickly. “Stop searching for hidden reasons. Can’t you just once accept what I say?”
“Why are you getting so angry?”
She groped for her handkerchief. “Please, Kate,” she begged.
Kate studied her shrewdly. Glory always hated it when she did that. As if she could get right inside her head and knew what she was thinking minutes before she thought anything at all.
Glory moved restlessly in her chair.
Kate’s eyes widened. She drew back in her chair and stared open-mouthed as the truth hit her. “You’re in love with him.” She tapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I should’ve guessed. I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me the truth, Glory.”
For pity sake, how did Kate do it? Was she a mind reader? It was creepy. “That’s not true, I don’t love him,” she denied hotly.
“If you don’t want people to know you love him, stop wearing your heart on your sleeve.” Kate studied the plate of sandwiches. “Do you want
the curried egg?”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong this time. I’m not in love with Edoardo,” she denied. “And you can go on about it all day, but the end result will be the same. I don’t love Edoardo.”
“You’d be the most stubbornness, pertinacious, headstrong, and — ”
“Kate, you flatter me,” she teased.
She smiled at the waitress as she placed their coffee in front of them. Grateful for the respite Glory took a sip of the steaming liquid.
Then, because Kate was her friend and she couldn’t pretend with her for too long, she said softly, “Yes, I love him. I love him very much.”
And the words once said out loud became a magic elixir and stirred around her heart, nudged her psyche and settled inside her soul.
She looked around the cafe almost as if she expected everyone to stand up and applaud her open confession. Never before had she uttered those words aloud, I love him. They had always remained inside her heart.
“I knew it,” Kate cried. “Oh, Glory, things have a habit of going haywire when one-sided love rears its beautiful head.”
A one-sided love? Oh yes, she had always accepted that. She also knew she could never change the situation. Still, she made a last desperate stand. “Do you really believe I should have waited for my Prince Charming? I mean, you’re supposed to be utilitarian. You’re the one who’s always crowing that you have a realistic hold on life.”
“I think you should’ve waited for a bloke who loves you,” Kate said sternly.
“Let it go, please, Kate.”
Coldness settled in the pit of her stomach. She’d never known Kate to be so serious. Oh, she’d given her pep talks before, hundreds of them, but never with the same intensity as she was displaying at this moment.
Glory realized how much Kate was worried about her, and it endeared her heart even more to her friend. To get away from the subject of love and Edoardo, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t know what to wear to meet his parents.”
Sexy in the City Page 103