by CC MacKenzie
Bronte's cheeks might look hot, but she turned her head to look at Olivier out of dancing emerald eyes. "We were just having a moment."
"Si," said Nico in a deep voice. "With the twins and now this little one," he nodded towards the pink-cheeked baby girl slumbering in an amazing looking black and chrome stroller, "these days we do not get enough one on one time."
Olivier moved to study baby Ella who was dressed in a white broad analgise sleeveless dress. A matching headband with an enormous white bow was wrapped around her glossy black curls. The baby was beautiful, her Italian heritage clear in the thick lashes and olive complexion. Her cupie-doll lips were a deep pink.
"She is bellissimo, Bronte."
Bronte moved to wrap her arms around Olivier's waist and lifted her cheek for his kiss.
"An absolute joy. Good as gold. Sleeps through the night. And wakes with a happy disposition. We all adore her."
Nico gave Olivier a man-hug and slapped his back.
"I am blessed."
As Bronte hooked a red leather bag the size of Texas to the stroller, Olivier raised an enquiring brow.
"You are not joining us for lunch?"
Dressed in white capri pants and a sleeveless black vest with white-blonde hair tied in a loose knot on top of her head, she looked casual and cool. The only jewellery she wore were her wedding rings and a watch with a large silver face and black leather strap. There was no flashing the cash for her, with Bronte Ferranti less was more. Again her emerald eyes sparkled into his.
"Not today. The twins are on a half-day at pre-school and won't be fit for company due to over-excitement and the heat. They'll have a light lunch and then a nap. I know Ana's busy, but if you guys have time, why don't you pop down for lunch on Sunday?"
"Grazie, si. She'll enjoy the break before the Paris trip."
Bronte turned to give Nico big eyes. "Hmm, it's been a while since we've been to Paris."
Nico just ran his tongue over his top lip in a vain attempt to stop a grin.
Something filled with lust, desire and love flashed between the couple.
Something that had Olivier bite down hard on his bottom lip.
Jeez, did these two ever stop with the public flirting?
"I will see what I can do," Nico drawled in a deep voice, his Italian accent thick.
After escorting his wife and child to their SUV and settling Ella into her baby seat, Nico strolled back to stand beside an Olivier who waved farewell.
He turned to Nico who was watching his wife's car glide down the long drive. "You are a lucky man, mi amigo."
Nico slung an arm around Olivier's shoulder as they returned to the Hall.
"Si. She makes me very happy."
"Something tells me it works both ways."
It wasn't until they'd finished lunch in a quiet nook on the covered balcony of the restaurant that Nico mentioned Anastacia.
"Ana tells me everything is set for the Paris shoot."
Olivier nodded his thanks to the smart waiter who poured black coffee into fragile cups of white china.
"Si. Would you doubt it? I have never in my life met a woman so organized. She lives by lists. Lots and lots of lists."
"She is the best in the business," said Nico. He took a sip of his coffee, all the while his eyes remained on Olivier. "How are things?"
He didn't pretend not to understand that Nico was referring to his private life.
"Good," he said, all cheery and upbeat.
Nico's dark brow rose. "But...."
Cristo, the man never missed a trick.
"She has a lot on her mind. This business with her father and her step-mother, step-sisters, it has thrown her. He calls her nearly every day. And every day she becomes quieter, more withdrawn."
Nico nodded. "Christopher Rucker is a good man. He has spoken to me, too. He worries about Ana. She has not yet met the rest of her family."
Annoyance curled deep in Olivier's gut as a protection to keep the woman he loved from more hurt rose within him.
"He needs to take a step back and give her room to breathe. Ana's had a lot of recent emotional shocks to deal with. The way her late mother lied to her and how those lies led to a life of unnecessary suffering has deeply wounded her. All those years in the care system...." He paused, took a deep breath and spoke from the heart to the man he trusted above all others. "She never speaks to me of that time. It concerns me how much she keeps locked up inside her. It cannot be healthy."
"And now she has you to love."
Olivier nodded, told himself to count himself lucky and not fret over matters he could not change. But the niggle of worry remained.
"Si. I know she loves me..." He paused, frowned into his coffee.
Nico leaned his elbows clad in a crisp shirt of white cotton on the table. "I hear another but..."
It was a small thing.
A small thing that should not bother him so much.
But it did.
His eyes lifted from studying the coffee in his cup to Nico's.
"She refuses to even consider wearing my ring. Says it is too soon." Olivier shook his head torn between betraying Ana's trust and needing a friend to listen. "She resists committing to me, to us, to what we might have together."
Nico sat back and stretched out long legs.
"Just for a moment put yourself in her place. She is one of the best in the business at what she does. Do you think it has been easy for her to get to her position?"
Olivier's brows met as he thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time.
"I am proud of her..." he began, wondering where the conversation was going.
"Si," Nico interrupted, the edge of impatience a sharp bite in his tone. "You should be. However, you did not answer my question. To get to where she is today Ana had to give up many things that other people her age - people with close family and friends - take for granted. Things like security, support, love and affection. She had to grow up fast with no protection, very little fun, no boyfriends, no parties, no shopping trips to buy the latest fashion or coffee with her friends. She had no family to rely on through college and beyond. The people who filled that gap for her are Danni and T.C. Together those girls are closer than sisters. They share everything. They are a triumvirate. They work together for the greater good and are a constant support for each other. If Ana is not talking to you about her past, her present or prepared to commit to your relationship, you can bet your last dollar she is talking to the people she considers her family. She is too self-aware to internalize a worry for any length of time, so that is one issue ticked off your list. She shares the burden with people she trusts. You need to understand the dynamics of their relationship and you need to support and accept those dynamics if you want to be a part of her life."
The reality of his situation slapped Olivier hard.
"I had not thought of her closeness to her friends in that way."
"Then you had better lift your game. As for expecting her to commit to you after less than two months together, has it occurred to you that you might be moving too fast not only for her but for yourself?"
Something like fear clutched Olivier's gut.
"She told me she loved me," he reminded Nico.
"Si, in the spur of the moment and on a day when she was hit with an emotional grenade, the day her father came into her life and told her truth of her mother's betrayal."
Olivier blinked.
He had no problem picking up the tone of disapproval in Nico's voice.
"You think I took advantage of her?"
"Did you?" Nico shot back. When Olivier simply stared at him, Nico shook his head. "Think about it. When you play soccer you are constantly searching for weakness in an opponent's defence and when an opportunity presents itself, you strike. I do not think you stopped or even hesitated, not for a second, to put Ana's feelings first. You want her. You struck when she was weak. You won. But you cannot run a relationship the way you play a game of football wi
th the winner taking all and leaving the loser with nothing."
Acid churned in his gut at the thought of leaving Ana with nothing.
He would never do such a thing.
But Olivier Conti had never lied to himself.
And the picture Nico painted now made him wince.
Not once did his eyes leave his friend's.
"I love her, Nico. With every single cell in my body, I love her."
"Si? Then love means putting her needs before your needs. Before everything else in your life Anastacia must be front and centre. And that means even before the game or your own family. If you cannot do that then, trust me, you do not love her. And if she is not ready to commit, then you step back and give her space. You must support her one hundred percent in coming to terms with her new family. One hundred percent, Oli. Nothing less. And when she is ready to talk about her past, when she feels safe enough with you, she will share everything with you. Everything."
Well, it wasn't often Nico Ferranti kicked ass, but Olivier's butt was truly on fire.
Mind spinning as the truth finally sank in, he felt as if he'd been hit by a truck.
"I have been selfish."
Nico straightened in his chair, topped up their cups from the pot.
"Si. But you are in love. Love makes fools of us all."
Still smarting from the butt kicking, Olivier scowled at his friend. "It did not make a fool out of you."
Nico threw his head back and laughed so loud and so long, Olivier couldn't help but smile.
Wiping streaming eyes, Nico shook his head.
"Mi amigo. Love made me the greatest fool of all. Ask Bronte and she will tell you how I nearly destroyed everything we had together before it had even begun."
"Love hurts," muttered Olivier.
"Sounds like the title of a love song to me," muttered his friend into his cup.
The deadpan look on Nico's face made Olivier's mouth twitch.
"Fuck off."
Nico just laughed even harder.
CHAPTER TWO
"Olivier Conti asked you to marry him?" yelled T.C. over the sultry sound of Ella Henderson singing from the bottom of her little heart about praying by a river.
Anastacia, T.C. and Danni were having a quick bite of lunch at the trendy Down and Dirty bar in the middle of London. Since it was Friday, the place was packed with city types wheeling and dealing and ducking and diving.
"Jeez," muttered Anastacia, and did a quick recce over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. Her eyes shifted to pin her friend to the spot. "Tell the whole damn world, why don't you? Keep it the hell down."
"And you said yes?" squeaked Danni. A Danni who looked cool and chic in tailored white shorts that showcased long, tanned legs ending in ruby red flat sandals the exact shade of her toenails. The shorts were teamed with a matching fitted waistcoat. Her fabulous hair, the color of shiny copper, swung to frame her stunning face and finished under her pointy chin.
T.C. was dressed in skinny, pale blue jeans and a man's white cotton shirt, buttons undone to showcase her tan, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. A heavy silver and turquoise necklace sat above her breasts. Her blonde hair ran in a sleek river down her back. She looked stunning and more than one city type's gaze had lingered on her Amazonian figure.
Now T.C.'s baby blues went wide as they searched hers for more information. "Omigod, you're pregnant?"
Christ, Jesus. Anastacia felt like banging her head on the table.
Why the hell did her friend put that picture in her head?
No way was she ready for motherhood.
No way.
Never.
Nada.
"No! I'm not pregnant."
Danni stared hard into Anastacia's eyes as if looking for brain damage. "But... you've only known each other a few weeks and you've agreed to marry him? Are you sure you're not pregnant?"
Anastacia pouted. "I'm not pregnant. And if I were..." And just like that the truth smacked her, and it smacked her hard. Her hands thrust through the heavy weight of dark curls and she tugged. "Oh, God. What the hell am I doing?"
"You're making sweet love, night and day, with Olivier Conti. No wonder your brain's messed up," said T.C.
Danni's eyes, a gorgeous hazel-gold, went soft as she reached out to rub Anastacia's hand. "Aww, Ana Banana. You love him. I am so happy for you. Why don't you just enjoy and stop over thinking it."
T.C. nodded, slung an arm around Anastacia's slim shoulders, gave her a fierce hug.
"Ditto what she said."
The panic in her gut slowly eased. "I'm over thinking it?"
"You're over thinking it. When's the wedding?" asked T.C. with a wicked glint in her eye. She picked up her fork and dug into her chicken salad without much enthusiasm, dieting sucked.
Anastacia just held her head in her hands and let out a low and very heartfelt groan.
"I haven't even met his mother."
Never one to avoid a hard truth, T.C. gave her a shoulder-bump. "Your own fault," she said. "I seem to remember you doing a complicated little dance to avoid meeting his mother."
The remark was nothing less than fact.
She had done everything to avoid meeting Mama Conti.
Feeling boxed in and hating it, Anastacia shoulder bumped back.
"It's nothing personal. I'm sure she's a very nice woman. It's just that I don't want it to be a big deal."
"Excuse me?" said T.C. "In anyone's book getting married is a pretty big deal, but to the mother of a groom who is also her only son it's bound to be a huge deal, Ana."
Something like terror rose into Anastacia's lungs.
And that terror brought her chin up. "No wedding date's been set. We haven't even talked about it. Trust me, a wedding isn't going to happen in my future any time soon."
"Denial," drawled T.C. "Is not only a river in Egypt."
It was one of T.C.'s favourite sayings and didn't make it any less true.
And Anastacia hated, just hated to be caught red-handed wallowing in a deep river of self-denial.
"Do you know how many times I've wished I'd never met Olivier? Do you? I've worked so damned hard to get where I am. And now..."
"And now what?" demanded T.C.
"My whole life has imploded. Did you see Facebook and Twitter today? Did you? Can you believe I received a death threat just for being his girlfriend? Can you? Plus I'm regarded as a WAG. I'm not a WAG. I'm the last person to ever be a WAG. I resent the label."
"Ignore all threats, they're just jealous beeeeeitches," said T.C.
Danni jerked a skinny shoulder, dipped a fry in tomato ketchup.
"Well, if you marry him you will be a WAG, so get used to it. You know why you're so anti the whole idea of being married to a football star, don't you?"
"I'm not Freud but I know it's to do with my past and my father."
"Yeah," said T.C. "But at least now you know he might have been a top soccer player, but your dad's one of the good guys. Cut yourself, and Olivier, a break."
Her friends were right.
She knew they were right, but a big hard stone of... something she couldn't quite put her finger on lay too heavy in her gut. "I want it all," she muttered under her breath and finally accepted her complex feelings. "I want my career. I want the man I love and I want my privacy. That's not too much to ask, is it? And when the story about my father hits the fan, this whole thing is going to get worse, a whole lot worse."
"And," said a relentless T.C. "I cannot believe you still haven't met your half-sisters. I'm surprised one of them hasn't already knocked on your door. The more you put it off the harder it'll be. Do you want Danni and me to come with you?"
Anastacia shook her head.
"Thanks, but Olivier is taking me to meet the entire Rucker family tomorrow night."
"About time," said Danni, then her eyes went watchful. "It's not like you to avoid dealing with hard stuff."
It wasn't like her.
But
the whole idea of meeting strangers who'd known about her existence for over twenty years, while she'd been in ignorance of them, made her feel... ill. Her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand she was secretly thrilled, on the other she was, well, scared to death.
"What if they don't like me?" Was that whiney voice really her? "God, I sound pathetic."
"No," said Danni as she reached out again to take her hand. "You sound human. What if they do like you? What if they think the sun shines out of your cute little butt? Ever thought of that? All that's wrong with you is the fear of the unknown. Once you've broken the ice, you'll be fine."
Anastacia squeezed her hand back. "Easy for you to say."
"Plus, you've gone and fallen crazy in love, too. And love brings with it a whole other set of excitement and fears, not least of which is meeting Olivier's family. You've gotta lot going on, Banana. You know we're here to help and support you."
All of that was perfectly true, so why did she have a bunch of nerves constantly jangling in her gut?
She loved Olivier.
She did.
But the feelings were new, raw and scary.
She felt weird all the damn time with jumpy nerves and a hollow feeling deep in her belly.
At that moment Anastacia wondered if she was the right woman for Olivier for the long term. A top level soccer star didn't have a long career. He needed one hundred percent focus on the game. From what she'd seen of the few wives and girlfriends of soccer stars she'd met so far, the women tended to put their man first in their lives. She wasn't even nearly ready to do that, to give up her work, her career, her friends, her life, to follow a man all over the world just because he played bloody football.
Her brow creased. Maybe Olivier needed someone else. Someone who'd put his needs and his career before her own. A woman who was prepared to live in Italy. Hell, they hadn't even discussed any of this stuff. No way would she ever leave London. No way. So maybe he needed a woman who would thrive in the glasshouse atmosphere of a football star's life, a woman who would enjoy the wild roar of the crowd and the bright lights and, God help her, a celebrity lifestyle.