by SJ Molloy
“Baby, I need to go back into my meeting. I will call you later on tonight. Keep your earrings in the safe when you are not wearing them. I love you, dolcezza.”
After transporting all the gifts upstairs into the suite, I place my original earrings in the safe with my other jewellery and keep the blue diamonds in.
Jessica arrives just as Rose is serving dinner. She admires my earrings and I give her a quick tour. Since it’s a lovely evening, we sit outside on the pergola. We enjoy a starter of asparagus and stilton soup then chicken and mushrooms in a white wine sauce, crispy garlic-rosemary potatoes, and various dressed greens, parsnips, carrots, and squash. We finish our meal with a slice of Victoria sponge cake and tea that Rose prepared this afternoon. Marco joins us for his meal but then pardons himself to work in Lucca’s study.
Mr. Carlin is in heaven. We won’t be able to get him home at this rate, and I see Rose has made a little extra effort for him.
I smile watching him relax and enjoy himself. Rose has been very attentive. I think she feels sorry for him as he’s on his own after losing Eleanor.
Jess and I clean up and load the dishwasher to allow Peter and Mr. Carlin to continue their game of chess with their dram of whiskey. Doris nearly knocks Mr. Carlin off his chair she is so excited to see him. He shoos her away impatiently with his walking stick and pretends he has no interest in her, but I did notice him slipping her some potatoes when he thought no one was paying attention. That man is too stubborn for his own good.
He gives me the run down regarding the home help, and after some truffles and a dram of whiskey with Peter, I catch him yawning so Marco obliges by running him home. I text Hazel and ask her to go in and ensure he doesn’t put that blooming heating on again.
I feel compelled to apologise to Marco for my temper earlier before he leaves, but he smiles and reassures me I have nothing to apologise for.
Bidding Rose and Peter good night, Jess and I put our pyjamas on and cuddle on the sofa for a long overdue chat, a DBB, but on the sofa instead of the usual bed. I haven’t had the chance to speak to Jess since my disastrous night turning up at her house after finding an intruder in our bed. I assure her everything is okay, that Lucca took care of the situation and we talked about it.
I give her the tour of the rest of the house and dressing room and show her the gifts I received today. She rubs my arm and hugs me, saying she is absolutely delighted I have found happiness and security and that she wants nothing more for me. Jess says she knows Lucca loves me and will take exceptional care of me. I believe her sincerity because she’s honest and very caring.
After locking up and bringing Doris in, Lucca calls to check in on me. We talk for almost forty minutes. He’s leaving London early tomorrow for his flight to Olbia, Sardinia, so he’s advised he’ll call when he can. I refrain from telling him I’m going into my clinic at the club tomorrow because I know he’ll object, especially after he stressed I should be recovering still before going back to work.
When I return upstairs, Jess is sound asleep in my bed. I’m comforted knowing she’s here. Like old times.
Chapter 23
Men in Black
Jess is leaving early for work after some croissants, fruit, and coffee. She is driving to Newcastle today for a sales conference. In the fridge, I find a packed lunch in a brown paper bag for her with a post it note.
For your trip, Jessica. Enjoy.
It could only be Rose.
God bless her. She truly is remarkable. She must have come in early to prepare it and has left some sweet niceties on the work top, which I shove into Jess’s handbag. After an early breakfast, Jess promises me she will be back at 6:00 p.m. sharp Wednesday evening. All I tell her is to bring her swimsuit, deliberately not divulging the details of Lucca’s treat wanting to keep it a surprise for all of them.
After a hot shower, I’m amazed that my ankle feels less swollen and tender today. Dressing, I opt for pleated, above the knee, black chiffon skirt and black fine knit tank top and wear black ballet flats since I’m going into the clinic today. I throw my hair in an undone bun, apply minimum makeup, and then walk Doris. I call a taxi to pick me up because I’m not having Marco drop me off in a limo at the club. That would raise eyebrows and the gossip is most likely circulating about Lucca and me already.
It seems like forever since I have been in my physiotherapy clinic. Walking past reception, I have an unnerving feeling everyone is watching me, their eyes are following my every move. Some people I know, some I don’t, and it makes me restless. I don’t recall them watching me like this before.
There is only one explanation – Lucca.
They’ve heard we’re engaged, and the women are most likely very curious about what’s going on, or envious as I’ve claimed their Italian god as my own. I carry on past the bar area with my focus straight ahead to the wooden doors, avoiding all eye contact.
As it’s summer and the kids are off school, the racket club and various other sports’ clubs are bustling with families. It’s packed today, and I feel almost claustrophobic. I arrive at the clinic upstairs thirty minutes later after meeting absolutely everyone with nothing short of a million questions.
Word travels fast around a club like this, and I’m sure I’m not flavour of the month.
Mark and Jane are waiting on me in the clinic. They both congratulate me with a huge hug. I can’t believe how much Jane’s baby bump has grown since I last saw her. It’s amazing. She looks like she’s glowing and flourishing with her pregnancy.
Her busy green and purple flower power tunic complements her unruly, fiery hair, and I see the toes of her biker boots from under her maxi gypsy style skirt. Some things never change. I love that she stays true to herself.
I keep my phone off to give Mark the courtesy of my full attention during his debrief as we have so much to cover. I don’t mention Lucca’s proposition about sourcing and funding us our own practice, because I’d rather wait until it’s been further discussed and possible first.
Having missed my independence of working, I’m eager to get my teeth back into it. Mark has a look at my wrist and my ankle, spending some time manipulating the areas which does help considerably. I’m thankful I still take the heavy duty painkillers for my wrist, as it’s also serving the ankle pain.
We have lunch in the bar area. Rena the chef makes me a lovely prawn sandwich and small minestrone soup. Jane shows me her baby picture scan and tells me all about her plans for the nursery. Mark says that the membership client base has increased dramatically, and they have all asked for appointments with me personally, so I have a massive waiting list.
A waiting list?
That’s strange because Mark and Jane both are very competent and highly regarded, and if their pain and injuries were causing grief, then surely they would want to be taken as soon as possible. His theory is that they have found out about my relationship with Lucca and want to get to know the woman who has finally stolen his heart. I shuffle around, feeling slightly uncomfortable with that thought, but he has a point. He also adds that the majority of these clients are female, so it does add up.
I expected this to be difficult as Lucca owns the club, and it’s inevitable I will experience challenges because of this and his history with women, I just didn’t expect my personal space to be invaded by a club full of desperate cougar wives all after my man.
Hazel runs by and stops when she sees us. “Jane, you look amazing, honey. I love your tunic! Is it new?” She smiles and winks at me.
“Shut up, Hazel. Stop being sarcastic. It’s actually maternity wear,” Jane bites back.
“Oh, I can see that.” Hazel giggles.
Mark stifles a laugh at Hazel’s mockery. Rolling my eyes, I ignore their tete-a-tete and smile apologetically at Jane then warn Hazel with my eyes to be nice.
“Skip, make sure you’re at my house tomorrow for 6:00 p.m. Lucca has arranged cover for your classes.”
“Excellent, I’ll stay over then. I
need to dash, I’m late for my class. Addio amici. ” I watch as she runs up the stairs.
We are gathering ourselves to return to the clinic when the club’s temporary manager interrupts us. "Excuse me, Miss Robertson. I have Mr. Caruso on the phone for you in the office, and he would like to speak with you. This way please.”
I follow him into his office and realise I’ve had my phone off all this time. He’s probably been trying to get me, but how does he even know I’m here?
Stalker.
“I’ll give you some privacy.” The manager closes the door behind me.
“Hi, honey, how did you know I’m here?”
“I own the club, Doc. Peter said you left in a taxi, why? And why have you turned your phone off? I have been trying to call you. Why are you back at work? I told you not to go back yet. You are not in a position to be practicing, and I am not comfortable with it. I want you home.”
I press my lips together in a firm line and keep silent, processing his irrational questions. He told me yesterday he wouldn’t try to control me, yet here he is being domineering again, and I don’t like his tone.
“Lexi, talk to me,” he demands.
Irrational bloody pest.
“I’m here because I work here and have a lot to catch up on. I took a taxi because I don’t want to be driven to the club in a limo or bother Peter. I have my phone off because we were having a meeting, and I’ll decide when I’m good and ready to be back at work. Now is there anything else you want to scold me about, because I don’t appreciate you hounding me. You said you wouldn’t control me, yet here you are suffocating me again,” I bark.
He sighs before answering. I can tell he’s stressed, but he’s being irrational. “I am sorry. Shit … I truly am sorry. I do not want to control you and make you feel like that. That is not my intention at all. I just believe it is in your best interest to stay off work. You are still recovering from an injury, and I would prefer it if Peter or Marco drives you anywhere you need to go so I have peace of mind knowing you are safe if I cannot be there to protect you myself.” Jesus, I’ve never heard him so wound up. He sounds a thousand times more frantic and stressed than yesterday.
“Lucca, I love that you want to protect me, I do, but I need to live my life as normally as possible. I’m not going to break in two, and you can’t keep me wrapped in cotton wool.” I stress the last few words
“I just need you to trust me and do as I ask. I want you to go home with Marco. He is waiting outside.” He’s ruffling my feathers with this petulant dictating.
“No, I have to finish my work. Hazel is here, so I’ll have her drive me home when I’m finished.” I’m firm.
“Damn it, Lexi, just do what I am fucking asking. I need you to go home. I need to keep you safe. Stop objecting and just get in Marco’s fucking car.”
What? He never swears directly at me, even when he is being persistent, petulant, or bossy. I hear him swear all the time, but not like this. It’s out of character for him to speak to me this way. I definitely think something is wrong. He’s not himself.
“Stop shouting at me. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Something isn’t right. Why are you being like this? Lucca, this is me, what I do. If you want to marry me, you need to accept who I am and stop trying to control me. Is this how you were with Fran? Did she do everything you ordered?” I’m sharp and expect to have pushed his buttons; instead, I’ve wounded him with my questions.
He sounds breathless on the other line and very strange. “Fuck no. I love you exactly the way you are and would not want to change you for the world, Lexi. Fran and I did not have a relationship like we have. I have told you that. I did not control her nor had any want to. She is not you. You are everything, Lexi, and mine.”
“So it’s just me you want to order about because I’m a pushover!” Feeling hot, I yell, face fuming and fold my arms over my chest.
“I am sorry, I do not want to scare you or push you. That is the last thing I want to do. There is nothing wrong. I would just feel better if I know where you are. Please, baby. I just want to protect you.”
For goodness sake, next he’ll be tracking my mobile phone, or better yet have someone follow me. “You know I’m here. Isn’t that good enough?”
“No, not when I cannot be there with you. Fuck, just do it, Lexi.”
He’s losing his mind, going all crazy on me. If this is what he’s like when he works away, I’ll definitely be going with him next time rather than put up with this nonsense. That’s if I even excuse his poor behaviour and we get past this. I never experienced any of this irrational behaviour in Tuscany, and ever since we got back, all we’ve done is fight, argue, and cry. Life is proving difficult right now and having a relationship is a lot harder than I could ever imagine.
“I have just had a difficult morning that is all, nothing for you to worry about. Please, Lexi … Do you trust me?” He softens his tone.
“Yes, of course I do, but you’re scaring me.”
Groaning he adds, “Mamma wanted to Skype you, something about wedding chat.” He’s lying.
“Lucca, that’s a lame excuse to get me home. I can call her anytime.” I chew the inside of my cheek and fidget with a paperclip on the desk.
“Okay, you are right. Yes, it is.” He sighs.
“Can you be honest with me then? Why do I need to leave here so desperately? Give me a good, valid reason and I’ll go, but not until you explain yourself because you sound absurd.” I doubt there will be any rational explanation that will make me leave my work today.
“Okay, I am only thinking about you.”
“Lucca, spill.” After I’ve bent the paperclip through frustration, I pick another and started twisting it.
“Kimberley is in the club, and I would rather you not run into her.”
“Is she in the gym? I haven’t seen her,” I ask.
“No, she is in the conference suite with Suzanne and some of my staff working on the projections for the Edinburgh launch. I have been on a conference call with them this morning from Sardinia.”
“What?” I screech. “Why is she still working for you? Why would you not tell me this?” Is he out of his mind? I thought after her episode at the weekend he would have well and truly fired her ass.
“Calm down. I knew you would react like this, so that is why I did not tell you.”
“Answer my question, Lucca!” I snap and flick the paperclip right across the desk.
“I cannot fire her. She is in the union and has a representative, so she has sought legal advice. She also has consulted with HR claiming unfair dismissal, and I have no valid grounds to dismiss her other than personal grievance. I need to wait until she fucks up from a business perspective. It does not look good for the company or my image, and there will be disastrous consequences if I do. I have set up her transfer to the Edinburgh club in the meantime, but it is a lengthy process.” He sounds exasperated. “I have been working through the night with Omari and my reps to resolve this, but unfortunately, I need to keep her in a position just now, not through choice but because I have to.”
My heart is breaking for him now as I know this is out of his hands and it would explain why he’s stressed and why he wants me out the club, away from her, even if he was demanding and out of order the way he spoke.
“What are the consequences?” I ask.
“Well, apart from bad publicity and a probable unpleasant threatening lawsuit, there is something else. She has something over me which I do not want to burden you with.”
“Please, tell me.”
He sighs and I hear him groan deep in his throat. “Fuck … she has a video of sexual content in her possession and is threatening to release it if I dismiss her.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jumping up in a panic, I place my hand on my chest, feeling my knees tremble, and stare at the door, expecting to be confronted with her. I need to sit back down because I’m worried my legs will give way.
No fucking way! I can�
��t take much more of this crap.
“No, I wish I were.” He clears his throat.
“That little twisted bitch. She’s poison. I’m disgusted, but not surprised. I assume you’re in the video?” I’m hoping he says no, but his outburst speaks volumes now, and I understand why he would want to protect me.
History!
Fucking history coming back to bite us on the ass again. I know he can’t change his past, but it’s grating on me now. First Leila in my bed and now this. What else will she try and do to get back at us?
“Yes, I am. I am sorry, baby. It was a long time ago. It is her and me here in the club after hours one night. I had the security tape destroyed, and I do not know how she managed to retain a copy, but you understand I cannot allow it to be released. I cannot have you hurt and disrespected like that, and it would crush my business reputation.” His voice is soft and filled with sincerity.
“Is this about money? I can’t believe she is blackmailing you.” I press my thumb on my temple adding pressure, feeling a throbbing headache coming on as my breathing increases.
“Omari suggested a financial settlement, but she is not interested. She wants to keep her job. I do not think it is about the money. I think it is about you and me.”
Angry.
Hurt.
Shocked.
“Oh God, I feel sick.” I fist my stomach, inhaling slowly and deeply, suddenly feeling nauseous. Another reaction to panic.
“Lexi, are you okay? I need to come home. Fuck my appointments. I cannot fucking stand this.” He’s going out of his mind with panic, sounding pained and agitated.
“No, don’t come home. Finish your business trip. I’m fine. I trust you, and I know you’ll do everything in your power to make this go away.” Make her go away. I pick up several paperclips and crush them tightly in my hand until my palm hurts. Then I fire them across the desk because I’m angry she is getting to me again.
Closing my eyes, I say a silent prayer than he can make this disappear. We don’t need this stress. Then I look at the red marks on my palm and clench my jaw.