by Marinelli, Carol; Hayward, Jennifer; Stephens, Susan; Anderson, Natalie
Of that he was certain.
The only variance to his breakfast order had been the occasional shakshuka and that had either been eaten by a sexy maid or flung against the wall.
His breakfast was always at six.
There it was, right on time, being delivered by Inga.
And there it was, not two minutes later, being wheeled back out.
Sophie was not a thief.
Most disconcerting to Bastiano, though, was that he had cared enough to find out and pursue justice for his little maid.
‘She will get her job back now?’ Bastiano checked, but Benita gave an uncomfortable shrug.
‘Sophie wasn’t just fired for stealing.’
‘If turning tricks is the criteria for firing maids at the Grande Lucia,’ Bastiano responded tartly, ‘then the unemployment rate in Rome is about to skyrocket. Would you like me to name names?’
Benita closed her eyes for a moment before responding. ‘That shan’t be necessary.’
‘Good,’ Bastiano retorted! ‘So you will be rehiring Sophie?’ Bastiano checked, and Benita nodded.
An hour later Bastiano boarded his helicopter for home with his conscience clear.
Almost.
Not.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOPHIE HATED HER JOB.
She tried not to show it, of course.
But no matter how thoroughly she cleaned the sleazy bar on the edge of her home town, the surfaces did not gleam and the carpets were still sticky.
Still, Sophie far preferred the cleaning duty when the bar was closed to the hours when it was open.
It was a job and a roof over her head, she told herself, though not for much longer. Pino, her boss, had made it clear when he’d hired her that the live-in post was a temporary one. Now, at six months pregnant, she was still no closer to working out where she would live when the baby arrived.
It would not be at her parents’.
Sophie had left home in disgrace, returned in shame, and after a lot of heartache they had asked the priest to speak with her. She had been told of couples who were desperate for a baby and would be able to provide a wonderful home.
An argument had ensued when Sophie had told her family that she would be the one to provide for her baby and she had barely seen them since.
Gabi’s mother might have come around once little Lucia had arrived, but Sophie knew that it would not be the case with her own parents.
And she could not stay there.
Even if Pino did keep her on, she wouldn’t want to raise her baby in a room over a bar such as this.
And Pino gave her the creeps.
Which was why, instead of, as she usually did, working through her rare day off, Sophie headed upstairs to her small bedroom.
‘Where are you going?’ Pino asked. ‘It’s time to open up.’
‘It’s my day off,’ Sophie reminded him.
‘Well, I need you to work.’ Pino shrugged and went to open the main door, clearly not expecting a discussion.
‘I have an appointment in town today,’ Sophie said, ‘at the hospital. It’s my six-month check. I cannot miss it.’
It was a lie.
Sophie had had just a couple of visits to her old family doctor but she didn’t tell Pino that. Instead, she headed upstairs and washed as best she could in the small bathroom she shared with Pino and then pulled on a black dress and boots and a thin jacket.
As she came down the stairs she could hear Pino chatting to one of the regulars and hoped she could slip out unnoticed.
‘Sophie!’
Just as she got to the door he called out to her.
‘Make sure you’re back for five.’
That would be pushing it.
Casta was three hours away and three back, and she had no idea how long it would take to get to the Old Convent from the railway station, or how long the interview would take.
For the first time in months she had hope.
A woman who dropped off some deliveries to the bar had told her about the Old Convent in Casta. It was an upmarket health and wellness facility and they were looking for live-in chambermaids.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ she told Sophie. ‘They take only the best produce…’ She sneered in the direction of Pino. ‘He takes the dregs. You should call them. A woman called Karmela runs the housekeeping. My niece worked there. They took her on when she was pregnant and she carried on working there for two years after the baby was born.’
‘She lived there with the baby?’ Sophie’s heart had started thumping so fast it must have woken her own baby up because she felt its little kicks.
‘Yes. She worked hard, mind you, but she loved it. Look your neatest, though, it’s very posh.’
The telephone interview had gone very well and now, as the train went through a tunnel, Sophie dug in her bag and found a comb.
Oh, she would love to make more of an effort, Sophie thought, but she had nothing to make an effort with.
She did have Alim’s number!
Sophie took the place card from the wedding out of her purse and looked at it for a long moment.
She hadn’t used it yet. The type of jobs that she had been able to find had not required a reference, certainly not one from a sultan, and she would not use this gift lightly.
Yet she needed it today.
Sophie couldn’t wait to meet her baby, but she was nowhere ready to. Her parents’ suggestion of adoption had very quickly taught Sophie just how much she wanted her baby.
Yes, the circumstances were far from ideal, but her baby was already much loved.
The train pulled out of the tunnel and into the belly of the valley of Casta. It was the first time she had ever been there and the scenery was breath-taking. Ahead was the ocean, with a hill either side of the valley, and now the train turned seemingly on a dime and ran on stilted tracks that hugged the rocky hillside.
Sophie dared not look down so she closed her eyes and rested her head against the window.
She should have stayed in Rome, Sophie thought. At least there she had had friends.
She ached to contact Gabi but did not know what to say—after all, her friend was now married to royalty. Would it sound as if she was begging for help when she told her she was pregnant?
But it wasn’t just that.
Alim was a friend of Bastiano’s.
With the best will in the world Sophie knew that Gabi would be worried if she found out her predicament and would end up telling Alim.
Would he tell Bastiano?
Sophie guessed that eventually he would and Bastiano’s reaction to the news…
Sophie did not want to know.
Oh, he would be aggrieved and cross and no doubt decide she had set out to trap him.
His anger she could deal with.
Almost.
What she couldn’t cope with, though, was the sense of duty that would surely ensue.
Bastiano was right—they were the same.
Beneath the glamour of his life, beneath the fearsome reputation and his playboy ways, he was as Sicilian as she.
Bastiano Conti forced into a duty marriage was something that Sophie could not bear to think of.
She had run from one after all.
As she stepped out of the train Sophie breathed in the salty air; the wind whipped her hair and she pulled her jacket tighter.
‘I am looking for the Old Convent,’ Sophie told a woman behind the station desk, and she was informed that there was a bus due in fifteen minutes.
‘Though it only takes you to the base.’
Sophie nodded. She had been told on the phone that there was a gated entrance and once she arrived she had been told to buzz and a car would be s
ent to collect her.
The bus took her through Casta and then inched its way up the hill, but Sophie was too nervous to take in the view. She was let off, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but Karmela’s instructions were good and soon she pressed a buzzer on the gate and gave her name and said she was there for an interview.
Soon a car arrived and she was driven down a long driveway with overhanging trees on either side, and then they arrived at the Old Convent building.
The grounds were sumptuous. There were fountains and pretty walkways and, far from foreboding, as she stepped into Reception there was a tranquil air to the old building.
‘Sophie?’ The receptionist was friendly and greeted her by name. After filling in a few forms, she was shown through to her interview.
Karmela, the head of housekeeping, greeted her and asked her to take a seat, wasting no time before getting the interview under way.
‘You said on the phone that you had experience in a five-star hotel.’
‘I worked at the Grande Lucia in Rome for a year.’
‘Can I ask why you left?’
Sophie told the truth.
In part.
‘I had some issues with my baby’s father.’
‘Well, he would have trouble creating issues here. The security is tight, there is limited access and it is gated.’
It wasn’t that type of trouble Sophie had been having, of course, but she gave Karmela a smile.
‘You would have to sign a confidentiality clause. Some of our guests are very famous and we do not want staff speaking out of turn.’
‘We had many famous and titled guests at the Grande Lucia.’
‘I understand that.’ Karmela nodded. ‘Here, though, a lot of our guests are…’ She hesitated. ‘Shall we say, recovering from a life lived in the fast lane.’
‘Oh.’
‘Does that concern you?’
‘Not at all,’ Sophie said.
‘You’re currently working?’ Karmela asked as she read through her paperwork.
Sophie had updated it by hand.
‘I am.’
‘Would you be happy for me to ring for a reference?’
Sophie’s throat went dry and it took a moment before she could respond. ‘I think that might make things rather awkward for me.’
‘How much notice would he require?’ Karmela asked, and she looked up from the paperwork at Sophie and watched as she struggled to reply.
Oh, she did not know how best to put it. ‘He would not take it well if I told him I was leaving.’
Karmela seemed to get it immediately.
‘What about your previous role?’
‘Sultan Alim is my reference—he’s the owner of the Grande Lucia. He gave me his private number to use.’
‘May I contact him?’
‘Of course,’ Sophie said, and wrote down the number.
The rest of the interview went very well and soon Karmela was speaking as if Sophie already had the job!
‘You will be required to service the rooms and to provide a turndown service. We encourage guests to eat in the restaurant but on occasion you would also be required to deliver meals to their suites. Some of our guests can be rather demanding, but I am sure you are used to that.’
Sophie nodded and decided that now was the time to address the obvious.
‘I know that I might only be able to work for a couple of months, but I am very good at my job and when I’ve had my baby I will work harder still.’
‘Sophie, we’re very used to single mothers here. There is room in the cells for both a bed and a cot.’
‘Cells?’
‘We have kept the names of old. The cells are where the nuns would sleep but don’t worry, they have been modernised. They are basic but very comfortable. In your case the timing works well—there’s a two-month period where you’ll be entirely supernumerary and trained to our standard. Signor Conti has a very strict vision for the place that has worked well…’
‘Signor Conti?’
‘Sì.’ Karmela nodded. ‘Bastiano Conti. His facilities are world renowned. This gorgeous old building was a dilapidated shell when he first bought it. Now guests fly in from all over the world to retreat here…’
Sophie didn’t hear the rest of what was said.
The Old Convent was owned by Bastiano.
There was no way she could work here now, Sophie thought as hope was snatched away.
As soon as he saw that she was pregnant…
Sophie closed her eyes as she pictured Bastiano finding out that the thieving maid who had delivered far more than breakfast was now pregnant with his child.
Sophie simply could not bear to face it.
She was too busy trying not to break down as Karmela wound up the interview.
‘The driver will take you directly to the train station,’ Karmela told her as she saw her to a waiting car. ‘I’ll be in touch soon.’
Karmela was as good as her word and the following morning Sophie took a call informing her that the role was hers.
To both women’s regret Sophie politely declined.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘BUON COMPLEANNO!’
‘Grazie,’ Bastiano responded mechanically as his PA wished him a happy birthday.
She was new and from out of town and, of course, did not know that there was no such thing as a happy birthday for Bastiano.
It had been the day his mother had died after all.
He rather hoped she would leave things there, but given that he had been gone for a few days there was much to catch up on.
‘How was your meeting in Rome?’ she asked.
‘Fine.’
He had been back three times since the wedding and though he was no longer vying to purchase the Grande Lucia, he had told his PA to book him in there on business.
Certainly there had been no pleasure.
Rome had felt empty.
There was no sign of Sophie and, given all that had happened, he had been loath to enquire as to her whereabouts.
Bastiano did his best to ignore the date and dealt with the essentials, but by lunchtime he gave in and pressed on the intercom.
‘Call for my car.’
A short while later he drove down the private road he had had built when he had taken over the convent and headed into the small town.
He parked by the church and walked down the gravelly side to the graveyard.
He came here rarely now.
He had used to visit Maria’s grave, more out of guilt than grief, but he was not here to visit Maria today.
As a child, he would visit his mother’s grave on certain occasions, but there were no memories to draw on and there had never been any comfort to be had.
Again, there was none today.
Just guilt.
He had been raised on it.
It was a pervasive guilt that time did not ease, for his very existence had robbed her of life.
Logic tried to tell him otherwise.
His mother had told no one about the baby she carried, and had done all she could to avoid showing—skipping meals until she had fainted one day. She had arrived at the convent hungry and weak.
The Old Convent might no longer be consecrated but for Bastiano those rules of old still applied, hence the policy of support to single mothers who wished to work there.
If only his mother had gone there sooner.
‘I have your ring,’ he told her, but there was no sudden rustle in the trees and the birds sang just as they had before.
There was no sign that she had heard.
He took it from his pocket and thought back to when Raul had come to visit to ask for Lydia’s address, and the
opportunity had arisen to ask for the one thing that was precious to him.
It did not feel so precious now.
He stared at the emerald and the tiny seed pearls but instead of beauty he saw only its curse.
Both of the women he’d loved had been wearing it when they had died.
And then he thought of Sophie, turning out her pockets and holding it in her palm, along with the cruel words he had hurled at her.
Of course the flowers had been for her birthday; at the time it had felt easier to lie than admit to caring.
He had lost her for this ring.
What once had been vital was meaningless now. Bastiano took the small ring and tossed it, for it had brought no peace; all it signified was destruction and pain.
He had to know for himself how she was.
Bastiano simply had to know that Sophie was doing okay.
He was the stulto now as he drove back up the hill, for he took the bends far too fast and was impatient at the gate, leaving his car with the engine still running.
‘Park it,’ he told the doorman.
Through the convent he strode, and before he could change his mind he delivered instructions.
‘I want to speak with Sultan Alim,’ Bastiano said. ‘I’ll take the call in my office.
‘Of course.’
Zethlehan was three hours ahead of Sicily but even though it was late afternoon there Bastiano knew it might take some time to be put through as Alim would likely be busy.
It wasn’t Alim he wanted to speak to, though, but Gabi.
Bastiano just had to know how Sophie was.
It felt as if it was taking for ever to get hold of Alim.
He paced his office and looked out at the view of the strait but it did nothing to soothe him, as it usually it did.
At seventeen, when Maria’s will had been read, he had scaled the convent walls just to get away from the toxic gossip in the village.
As Raul had started his ascent in Rome, Bastiano had remained in Casta.
His rise had been slower than Raul’s.
Bastiano had seen the potential of the building and his low offer had been accepted; he had taken a loan and renovations had commenced.
The first clients had trickled in and then a B-list actor had moaned to the press about the cost, saying that it was prohibitive.