by Anne Mather
Silence descended—an uneasy silence that wasn’t much improved when Diane turned away and sought the chair she had occupied earlier. Olivia wished she had her own transport, too; that she had the means to get out of there herself. It would be the next thing she’d do, she thought vehemently. Providing she was still employed, of course.
‘Oh, sit down, for heaven’s sake!’
Diane’s impatient command almost had her hurrying to do her bidding, but somehow she stiffened her spine and managed to stay where she was. ‘Do you still want to do this?’ she asked, half hoping Diane would say no. But she should have known that the other woman wouldn’t give up that easily.
‘Do I still want to do it?’ she echoed, looking up at Olivia with a frustrated stare. ‘Of course I want to do it, as you so succinctly put it. That’s what I’ve brought you out here for. If you choose to ruin any chance of a social life you might have while you’re here, that’s up to you.’
Olivia swallowed, and, hearing the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her, she sank down weakly onto the chair. She knew it must be María, and she had no desire to arouse her curiosity as well. But she couldn’t help wishing that Diane would suggest continuing their interview indoors. It might just be that little altercation with Joe Castellano, but she felt as if her temperature was sky-high.
‘Coffee and fruit juice, madam,’ said Maria cheerfully, setting the tray on the low table beside her mistress. ‘Would you like me to pour?’
‘No, thanks,’ answered Diane, dismissing her somewhat ungraciously, and Olivia was aware of the maid’s confusion as she hurried back to the house.
Meanwhile, Diane had picked up the pot of coffee. ‘How do you like it?’ she asked. ‘Or do you prefer orange juice?’
‘Yes.’ Olivia’s lips felt parched. ‘That is—I would prefer orange juice,’ she murmured awkwardly. There were ice cubes floating on the top of the jug and they were a mouth-watering sight.
Diane shrugged, set down the coffee pot again and took charge of the jug. She filled a tall glass and handed it to Olivia. ‘You look as though you need this,’ she commented drily. ‘It may help you to cool down.’
Olivia doubted it, but rather than make any retort she took a generous gulp of the juice. ‘It’s very hot out here,’ she said at last, determined not to let Diane think she could intimidate her. ‘If I’d known we were going to work outside, I’d have come more prepared.’
Diane finished pouring herself a cup of coffee, which Olivia noticed she drank without either cream or sugar. ‘You’d prefer to work indoors?’ she asked, viewing her companion critically. ‘I suppose your skin is sensitive. You’re like Ricky. You’re used to cooler climes.’
Olivia wanted to say that she wasn’t like Richard at all, but as she had no desire to bring Richard’s name into their conversation again she kept her mouth shut. Besides, she sensed that Diane was only baiting her, and it didn’t really matter what she said as long as Olivia didn’t respond.
‘Tell me how you met Joe at the airport.’ Diane invited, changing tack when it became apparent that the other woman wasn’t going to rise to her previous lure. She frowned. ‘He must have recognised you from your picture on the book about Eileen Cusack.’
Olivia nodded. She had wondered about that, too. She could hardly tell Diane she had been staring at him across the concourse. Had he really recognised her, or had he seen the label on her bag?
‘He’s quite a dish, isn’t he?’ Diane went on encouragingly. ‘I bet you wondered who he was. I assume he must have approached you. You don’t look the type to initiate a pass.’
Olivia put down her glass. ‘You’re right, of course,’ she said flatly. ‘Unlike you, I don’t covet every man I see. Um—Mr Castellano was very kind, very thoughtful. He could see I was a stranger and he helped me out.’
Diane’s lips twisted. ‘Believe it or not, but I don’t ‘covet every man I see’ either,’ she retorted shortly. ‘All right. I know you’re still peeved about what happened between you and Ricky, but that wasn’t all my fault. It takes two to tango, as they say in Rio. Ricky was ripe for a bit of seduction. I hate to tell you this, Olivia, but he came on to me.’
‘I don’t believe you!’
The words were out before she could stop them and Olivia suspected that she’d said exactly what Diane had hoped she’d say.
‘Well, that’s up to you,’ she said now, sipping her coffee and watching Olivia with cool, assessing eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’ve all had plenty of time to ponder our mistakes.’
Olivia pressed her lips together and forced herself to breathe evenly. She would not allow Diane to manipulate her, she thought fiercely, no matter how much she’d looked forward to seeing Richard again. In fact, it was hard to remember now how she’d felt before she left England. Had she really welcomed the news that he and Diane were having problems? Somehow it was difficult to imagine those errant emotions now.
‘The relationship you’ve had—or are having—with your husband is of no interest to me,’ she declared, trying to concentrate on what she’d written on her pad. ‘Shall we get on with the interview? I’d like to confirm a few preliminary details this morning. Then we can concentrate on the form you want the biography to take.’
Diane’s lips twisted. ‘I don’t believe you, you know.’
Olivia took a deep breath. ‘What don’t you believe?’ she asked, reaching for her glass again with a slightly unsteady hand.
‘That you don’t care about me and Richard; that you only came here to do a job.’ Diane put down her cup with a measured grace. ‘You’re not that unfeeling, Olivia. I should know.’
Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, praying for strength, and then opened them again before she spoke. ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ she stated firmly. ‘It’s five years since—since we had any contact with one another, and that’s a long time. I’ve changed; you’ve changed; we’re all five years older. I’m not a junior reporter any more, Ms Haran. I’ve got an independent career of my own.’
‘I know that.’ Diane was impatient. ‘And I respect the success you’ve had. That’s why you’re here, for God’s sake!’ She broke off and then continued more calmly, ‘But don’t pretend that you don’t still care about Ricky. I don’t flatter myself that it was my invitation that brought you here.’
‘Well, it was,’ said Olivia swiftly, though not very truthfully. It was the chance that she might see Richard again that had overcome her reluctance to work with Diane. But she had no intention of giving Diane that satisfaction, and in any case meeting Richard again had somehow soured that enthusiasm, too.
That—and the startling realisation that she’d been attracted to another man...
‘You’re lying,’ persisted Diane now, leaning forward to pour herself another cup of coffee. But there was no animosity in the words. And before Olivia could attempt to defend herself she went on evenly, ‘But perhaps this isn’t the time to go into that.’ She paused. ‘It’s Friday tomorrow. I suggest we both take the weekend to think things over, and we’ll meet here again on Monday morning.’
Olivia caught her breath. ‘You mean—you want me to go?’
Diane shrugged. ‘I think it’s a good idea, don’t you?’ She looked at the other woman over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘I’ve got to go into the studios this afternoon anyway, and you’d probably welcome the chance to get your bearings. I suppose I should have realised you can’t be expected to work on your first day.’
* * *
Manuel drove Olivia back to her hotel, and she was grateful to find that Richard wasn’t with him. She needed some time to collect her thoughts before she saw her ex-husband again, and she couldn’t help wondering if he knew what his wife was thinking. It seemed obvious to Olivia that Diane’s motives weren’t as straightforward as she’d have her believe.
She was tired when she reached her room, despite the fact that it was only midday. But her body clock was telling her that it was evening and although she had
n’t actually done any work yet her encounter with Diane had taken its toll.
Perhaps she’d done her a favour by suggesting that she take the weekend off, thought Olivia unwillingly, but she doubted Diane had her best interests at heart. No, there was another agenda that only Diane knew about, and while she had been remarkably civil to her Olivia sensed that there was something going on.
An image of Joe Castellano insinuated itself into her mind as she sat down on the side of her bed and kicked off her shoes. Was he really just a friend, as he’d said, or were he and Diane lovers, as she suspected? It was ironic, she thought bitterly, that she and the other woman should be attracted to the same men. But she wasn’t foolish enough to think there was any competition between them.
Flopping back on the mattress, she spread her arms out to either side and stretched wearily. The quilt was cool beneath her bare arms and it was so nice just to relax. For the present it wasn’t important that Diane was paying for her accommodation. She was too exhausted to care about anything else.
The telephone awakened her. Its shrill distinctive peal penetrated the many layers of sleep and brought her upright with a start. For a moment she was disorientated, not understanding how it could be light outside and she still had her clothes on. She didn’t usually need a nap in the middle of the day.
Then, as the phone continued to ring, she remembered where she was and what she was doing. A quick glance at the slim watch on her wrist advised her that it was after half-past four. She’d slept for nearly five hours. She must have been tired. No wonder she felt hungry. She hadn’t eaten a thing since early that morning.
Rubbing an impatient hand across her eyes, she reached for the receiver. ‘Hello,’ she said huskily, but she knew as soon as she spoke who was on the line.
‘Liv? Hell, you are there. I was beginning to think you’d passed out in the bath or something. The receptionist insisted you were in your room, but I’ve been trying this number for hours!’
‘For hours?’ Olivia blinked. ‘Richard, I—’
‘Well, for the last half hour, anyway,’ he amended quickly, evidently realising it wasn’t wise to exaggerate that much. ‘If you hadn’t answered this time, I was going to come over. I’ve been worried about you, Liv. Why’d you leave like that without even letting me know?’
Olivia shook her head. She could do without this, she thought wearily, sensing the beginnings of a headache nudging at her temples. It was the fault of being woken up so suddenly that was making her feel so groggy. That, and the emptiness she was feeling inside.
‘Didn’t Diane tell you why I left?’ she asked now, realising he was unlikely to be put off by anything less than an explanation. ‘We—talked, and then she suggested I used the next couple of days to familiarise myself with my surroundings. I’m seeing her again on Monday morning. But I’m sure you must know this for yourself.’
‘I know what she said,’ declared Richard harshly, ‘but that doesn’t mean that I believed it. I know my wife. She looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I know better.’
‘Oh, Richard—’
‘I know, I know. That’s not your problem.’ His tone was bitter. ‘But at least give me the credit for caring what happens to you.’
Which implied that she didn’t care what happened to him, and that simply couldn’t be true. For heaven’s sake, before she’d left England she’d believed she was still in love with him, and it wasn’t wholly his fault that she’d changed her mind. You couldn’t be married to someone for four years without their feelings meaning something to you, she admitted ruefully. Their marriage might be over but the memory lingered on.
‘I was asleep,’ she said now, hoping to avoid any further discussion of Diane. ‘It’s the jet lag, I think. I was exhausted when I got back.’
‘But—you’re all right?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Um—Diane didn’t say anything to upset you?’
‘No.’
Olivia was abrupt, but she couldn’t help it. She wondered what exactly he thought she was. She found she resented the fact that he believed Diane could still hurt her. Had she given him the impression that she’d spent the last four years pining for him?
‘Oh—good.’ He sounded relieved, but she wondered if he believed her. ‘When I found you’d left like that, I was worried in case she’d said something—bad.’
Or incriminating, reflected Olivia, her lips tightening involuntarily. She was suddenly reminded of what Diane had said about him. Was that the real reason for the phone call? she wondered incredulously. Or was she being unnecessarily paranoid? Was he afraid that Diane might have betrayed the fact that he’d destroyed his marriage and not her?
But, no. She blew out a breath. She was overreacting. Richard had rung her, as he said, because he’d been concerned about why she’d left without saying goodbye. It crossed her mind that it had taken him the best part of five hours to express his regrets, but she didn’t dwell on it. In the circumstances, it wasn’t her concern.
‘Diane was—charming,’ she said now, although the description barely fitted the facts. But Richard wasn’t to know that. He could only take her word for it. And there was a certain amount of illicit satisfaction in assuring him that they had got on so well.
‘Was she?’ His response was tight. ‘Well—don’t let that—bewitching façade fool you. Diane’s an actress, in every sense of the word. She doesn’t know how to be sincere.’
‘Richard—’
‘I know. I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’m sorry.’ His apology sounded genuine, and Olivia sighed. ‘In any case, I didn’t ring for you to get embroiled in my personal problems. I wanted to ask you if you’d have dinner with me.’ He paused. ‘I’d really like for us to talk, Liv.’
Olivia stifled a groan. ‘Oh—well, not tonight, Richard,’ she protested. ‘I was thinking of having an early night.’
‘Tomorrow, then. Just the two of us. Diane’s spending the weekend at the beach. We could have the place to ourselves.’
Olivia didn’t know which was worse: the fact that Diane was apparently going to spend the weekend at Joe Castellano’s beach house, or that Richard should expect her to dine with him at Diane’s. Both alternatives were distasteful to her, but she suspected the former had the edge.
Nevertheless, she would not play into anyone’s hands by dining at Diane’s house, and she told him so in no uncertain terms.
‘I’m—I’m surprised that you would ask me to do such a thing,’ she added stiffly. ‘I may have to work there, but I don’t have to like it.’
‘But you said—’
‘That Diane was pleasant?’ she interrupted him swiftly. ‘Yes, she was. But I don’t intend to make a friend of her, Richard. Our association is a matter of business, that’s all.’
‘I understand.’ But she doubted he did ‘And I realise it was insensitive of me to suggest that we dined here. It’s just a little difficult to make arrangements at such short notice.’ He paused. ‘I suppose we could always dine at the hotel.’
Olivia’s shoulders sagged. ‘You mean in the restaurant, don’t you?’ There was no way she was going to invite him to her suite.
‘Unless you can suggest an alternative,’ he answered huskily, the insinuation clear in his voice.
‘I can’t,’ she replied, realising that in her haste to avoid a tête-à-tête she had virtually agreed to his suggestion. ‘Um—perhaps you ought to ring me again tomorrow. We can finalise the details then.’
Or not!
‘There’s no need for that.’ Evidently he had detected her uncertainty and was not prepared to give her an escape route. ‘Look, let’s arrange to meet—downstairs in the Orchid Bar at seven o’clock tomorrow evening. If you can’t make it, you can always give me a ring.’
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WASN’T until the following morning that Olivia realised she didn’t have Richard’s number. There’d been no reason for Kay to have Diane’s phone number, and she hadn’t thought of asking for it h
erself. She supposed she could contact Diane’s agent, but she was loath to publicise the event And sooner or later she and Richard would have to talk. There was no point in pretending she could ignore what was going on.
Meanwhile, she had the day to herself, and despite the fact that she’d awakened early again she felt much more optimistic this morning. Her first anxious interview was over, and she was determined not to be daunted by anything Diane might say. Instead of using room service, she decided to have breakfast in the terrace restaurant, and after spending several minutes assessing her wardrobe she eventually elected to wear cream shorts and a peach-coloured linen jacket. A thin silk vest, also in peach, completed her ensemble and she secured her hair at her nape with a tortoiseshell barrette.
She thought she looked smart without being too formal, and she assumed she’d struck the right note when the waiter who escorted her to her table gave her an admiring look. ‘Just for one?’ he asked, his accent faintly Spanish, and she felt her cheeks colour slightly as she nodded.
‘I’m afraid so,’ she told him half defensively, and was disarmed by his smile.
‘No problem, madam,’ he told her easily, and led her to a table for two in the sunlit conservatory.
Yet, despite the waiter’s reassurance, Olivia was aware that her table drew a lot of curious stares. Perhaps they thought she was someone of importance, she thought, hiding behind the enormous menu. What must it be like to be a celebrity, constantly in the public eye?
Not very nice, she decided, after the waiter had taken her order, and she took refuge in the complimentary newspaper lying beside her plate. Perhaps she should have had room service, after all. Then she wouldn’t be feeling such an oddity now.
Still, the food was good, and, ignoring her fellow diners, Olivia succeeded in clearing her plate. She’d not had blueberry pancakes and maple syrup since her visit to New York a couple of years ago, and she refused to count the calories today.
She was finishing her second cup of coffee when a shadow fell across her table, and, glancing up, she found a tall black woman of middle years looking down at her. The woman’s hair had been tinted with henna and Olivia was sure she must weigh at least two hundred and fifty pounds. She was stylishly dressed in a navy power suit, with huge padded shoulders and a tightly buttoned jacket.