Scandal In The Boardroom

by Dani Wade

“Really, Draco. It’s only two weeks since I last saw the doctor. Everything’s fine. I wasn’t due to see her again for another two weeks.”

  “Let me be the judge of what is fine and what is not,” he responded grimly.

  Blair rolled her eyes. “Are you a doctor now too?”

  “No, I am about to become a father, and I have a responsibility to ensure that my son or daughter is well.”

  “Honestly, you’re overreacting. I’m only twelve weeks pregnant, I’ve been keeping excellent health, aside from a little tiredness, which,” she held up a hand as he started to speak “is perfectly normal at this stage of a healthy pregnancy.”

  “Ms. Carson? The doctor will see you now,” the receptionist summoned them, bringing to a halt any further discussion between her and Draco.

  The instant Draco sat down in the doctor’s office Blair felt as if she was invisible, as he launched into a series of questions about both her health and the baby’s.

  “So you can assure me that there are no underlying concerns about Blair’s health that could put her or the child at risk?” he asked.

  “Certainly nothing we’ve come across, Mr. Sandrelli. Blair’s most recent physical showed her to be in excellent health, with blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugars—basically everything—within normal ranges. There’s no cause for concern that this pregnancy will be anything but smooth sailing.”

  Blair seriously doubted her blood pressure was within normal ranges at present. Draco’s interest in her physical condition bordered on obsessional. Not a side of him she’d ever seen before, and she didn’t feel comfortable with it. It was almost as if he’d reduced her to an object, rather than a woman.

  “See, I told you everything is fine.”

  Draco shot a look so bleak that it made her heart skitter in her chest. “Forgive me my concern, cara mia, but I wish to be certain that you and our baby will be safe through this pregnancy.”

  Blair bristled at his obvious use of endearment to keep the doctor on his side.

  “Commendable, Mr. Sandrelli, but let me assure you that I expect no complications for Blair, and I’m sure that while you’re back home in Italy you will be able to arrange excellent care for her. In the meantime, here is some literature that may give you some idea of what Blair should be eating, and avoiding—I always think it’s kinder on our mothers-to-be if the whole family avoid the foods she has to. Blair is already on folate, calcium and iron supplements, and she has all this information, so I’m sure you can trust her to look after herself equally as well as you.” The doctor gave Blair a reassuring smile, clearly well used to dealing with anxious first-time fathers.

  “Thank you, doctor. I am much assured.”

  “Good. Now I’m sure Blair is becoming quite uncomfortable waiting for her scan, so let’s take her through to our radiology rooms.”

  Blair could have hugged the doctor. Let Draco try and sit still with a straining bladder while someone asked inane questions. As they walked through to the radiology rooms, which formed part of the medical center, the doctor continued to talk to Draco.

  “I’ll receive the scan report and can either have a copy ready for you before you leave for Italy or, alternatively, I can forward a copy to your doctor over there, once you have chosen someone.”

  “We’d like to take it with us,” Draco said before Blair could utter a word. He flipped out a business card. “Please send it through to this address. We leave at the end of the week, I trust that will provide you with sufficient time to get the report to me?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  The doctor introduced Blair and Draco to the radiographer conducting the scan. Draco sat to one side, now uncharacteristically silent as the radiographer prepared her for the scan by squeezing some gel onto her stomach. The woman described each step in the process of what she was doing as she did it, for which Blair was grateful. This was terrifying territory. Only two weeks ago she hadn’t even considered pregnancy, in fact, had purposely avoided any thought of the possibility, now it was very much a reality. Even more so as the grainy image appeared on the screen.

  “Here we are,” the radiographer said with a smile. “It’s time to meet your baby.”

  Blair’s eyes fixed on the screen as the radiographer pointed out the baby’s—her baby’s—legs and arms and its head and body. It was hard to believe this tiny human being was growing and moving within her body, when externally, there was little sign of its existence.

  “Oh boy, it’s busy, isn’t—” Blair turned her head to Draco but never got to finish her sentence as she was suddenly struck by the look on his face.

  There was wonder there in his eyes, but at the same time an expression of raw grief that took her breath away. Their current animosity temporarily forgotten, she reached out her hand to him, needing to connect with him, to rid him of the anguish he’d exposed.

  At her touch his expression changed and he turned his face, his eyes locking with hers. She was shocked to identify tears in his eyes, and suddenly the reality of the baby and what it meant to him began to hit home.

  Already he loved this baby. Already it was a part of him. Yet for her, the pregnancy still felt so foreign. Even the visual evidence on the screen beside her didn’t seem real.

  The sense of division and separation between herself and Draco yawned like a chasm between them. As if he sensed her thoughts, he gently squeezed her fingers then let her hand go.

  “May I have a print-out of the screen?” he asked, his voice surprising Blair with how level it was.

  “Sure you can, here I’ll print you one each.”

  Blair wanted nothing more than to curl herself up into a ball in the darkest corner of her bedroom and weep. But even that was lost to her, since her father had moved back into the tiny accommodation in preparation for taking over the management of the restaurant. Now she was back in Draco’s apartment, and if the sense of dispossession she felt was any indicator, going to the palazzo in a few days’ time was going to be even worse.

  Draco settled back into the deep, comfortable leather seat of the charter jet that was taking them home. The week had been a blur of activity, tying off any loose ends to do with his business both in New Zealand and across the Tasman in Australia. He’d barely spent any time with Blair, although he doubted she minded that much at all.

  All week he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the sonogram he kept in his pocket. He’d never attended any of Marcella’s checkups with her, he’d always been too busy with work, and she’d understood that—never demanding his company. Now he began to realize all he’d missed out on. It didn’t alter the measure of his grief for her or their baby, but he silently vowed he would not be so distant this time.

  By the time they reached the private airfield on the outskirts of the Sandrelli land near San Gimignano, they were both weary of travel. The stopovers en route had done little to break the tension between them, and despite the fact that Blair had rested in the private sleeping quarters for several hours, he could tell she was near to dropping with exhaustion. He made a mental note to ensure the obstetrician he’d engaged for her and the baby’s care would come to the palazzo.

  He wondered how she would find things there now. It would be totally different for her. A temporary home instead of a holiday venue.

  The customs officers who met them at the airfield were polite and efficient, welcoming Draco back to his homeland in voluble Italian. Inch by inch, he began to feel his body ease into the rhythms of his land, into the undeniable sense of rightness and belonging he experienced every time he came home. His heart swelled with the thought that, in time, his child would know this feeling too. Would embrace the wide world with all its glories, but would eternally want to return to its roots.

  It had been just over six weeks since he’d left, and the land had awakened from the lingering chill of winter that had extended into March. Around them, fields were ablaze with the fire of poppies and the golden glow of wild mustard.

&nb
sp; Yes, it was good to be back.

  Once the official requirements had been met, Draco ushered Blair into the waiting limousine. As they neared the palazzo, Draco looked around him with great eagerness, observing the various plantings that sustained part of the business enterprises of the Sandrelli Corporation. Olive groves, in the peak of health, marched like a giant green army over the gently rolling hills, while on the rise of land leading up to the palazzo lay row upon row of grape vines. At the top of the hill, inured against marauding invaders by a 16th century stone wall, stood the palazzo. Home.

  It was good to return to what were essentially the grass roots of his heritage.

  He flicked a glance at Blair. She sat pale and rigid on the seat, her eyes fixed out her window. She had barely said a dozen words on this final leg of the journey. He hoped she would be able to relax, once settled back into the palazzo. For both her sake and the baby’s.

  Once inside the palazzo, Draco led Blair to her room.

  “This is different from where I stayed before, isn’t it?” Blair noted as they went up a wide staircase to the next floor.

  “Yes, this leads to my private quarters. Where you stayed before was the wing we have reserved for guests, both corporate-and tourism-related.”

  “I had no idea the accommodation was so extensive here. I really only saw such a small part of it, didn’t I?”

  Draco nodded, his mouth pulling into a wry smile. If you counted the commercial kitchen, where the culinary tour classes were given, and her sleeping quarters of the time, the part she saw was indeed small.

  “I will give you a full tour of the palazzo when you’re rested. Perhaps tomorrow, hmmm?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Was that an overture of friendship? He realized she must feel completely displaced. Not even the room she’d be sleeping in now was familiar to her. He swung open the heavy, paneled door that led into her room. In the warm glow of the evening, the deep rose-pink drapes, edged in gold braid and tied back from the mullioned windows, looked friendly and inviting, as did the canopied 19th century bed that dominated the room.

  “Oh my God, it’s like a museum. Are you sure I can sleep here?” Blair said with a nervous laugh.

  “These pieces have been in my family—well—since they were new. We use them. That’s what they were designed for.”

  Draco gestured to one of his staff to put Blair’s cases through another door on one side of the room.

  “A maid will be along shortly to unpack for you.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I can do that for myself.” Blair protested.

  “It is very necessary. You look shattered. Why don’t you turn in early and in the morning we can start anew? What do you say?”

  There was something in Draco’s eyes that went straight to Blair’s heart. Start anew. It was so appealing. If only she could start anew back to February when she was last here. Where would they be now? She certainly wouldn’t be here. She’d be back at Carson’s doing what she loved.

  Well, she decided she could make herself miserable for the whole time she was here, or she could make the most of it.

  “Thank you, I’d like that,” she replied softly.

  Draco lifted a hand and traced one finger along the line of her jaw. Instantly her nerve endings went crazy. He hadn’t touched her since that brief moment when they’d clasped hands in the radiography room. Suddenly she realized just how much she missed his touch. Missed him. Tears sprang to her eyes. Stupid, helpless tears that did nothing to reflect the jumble of emotions that cascaded through her.

  “I’ll let you rest then.” Draco turned to leave the room.

  “Draco, wait. Where will you be?” To her horror a note of panic slipped into her voice.

  “I will call in briefly to see my parents and then I will return. I’ll be just two doors further down the corridor, in my suite. Do not worry, Blair. I will not let you go far from my sight.”

  Blair nodded, barely trusting herself to speak.

  “Buona sera, Blair. Sleep well. And don’t worry about the maid when she comes, she will use the door that leads straight to your dressing room, so as not to disturb you.”

  “D-dressing room? I barely have enough clothes to fit in a chest of drawers, and now I have an entire dressing room?”

  “Perhaps we can fly to Livorno, on the coast, for the day, and do some shopping. Or even north to Firenze. Clearly, you will need a new wardrobe, especially as the baby grows.”

  The excitement that began to bubble inside her fell immediately flat as she was reminded that the true purpose behind her being here was the baby, and the baby alone.

  “As you wish,” she managed to say, because all of a sudden it was quite clear to her that despite the exquisite furnishings and the plush elegance of her new temporary home, she was here only at his bidding.

  “Blair? It is not just as I wish. I would like to think you’re looking forward to this baby too. I know we said some harsh things to one another last week, but I meant what I said when I suggested we start over. Think about it, hmm? And I’ll see you in the morning.”

  When Draco was gone Blair took a minute to familiarize herself with her room. The large en suite bathroom was as luxuriously fitted as the bedroom—although a great deal more modern, she noted with relief. She grabbed her toiletries and a night shirt from her case and prepared for bed.

  Draco’s parting words still rang in her ears. Start over. It would be so lovely to do so. But what of her dreams? She’d finally taken Carson’s to five-star splendor, only to have to leave it in another’s hands. Granted, that person was her father, but still she felt cheated.

  She slid between the fine cotton sheets, laundered with a hint of lavender, and rested her head onto the pillow. She’d thought she had it all under control, but where was that control now? Firmly in Draco’s hands, and there was nothing she could do about it. Absolutely nothing.

  Nine

  Blair was awakened the next morning by the clink of crockery on a tray.

  “Buon giorno, Ms. Carson. I trust you rested well.” A uniformed maid bustled into the room and placed a tray on a nearby table. “I have brought you breakfast and a request from the Signore to be ready in an hour for a tour of the property. And Ms. Carson, the coffee is decaffeinated as per your doctor’s instructions.”

  “Thank you,” Blair shoved herself upright in the bed and sniffed the air as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee tantalized her nostrils. Her eyes spied pastries in a small basket on the tray. “Are those cornetti?”

  “Yes, raspberry. Your favorite, si? Cristiano, our cook, he remembered, and Ms. Carson? There is a small gift here for you also. A welcome to the palazzo from the Signore.”

  Both curious and ravenous, Blair pushed the bedcovers from her legs and rose from the bed. With a cheerful smile, the maid left the room.

  A narrow, long blue-velvet jeweler’s box nestled on a starched, white serviette, next to the plate of cornetti. Curiosity won the tug of war and she lifted the case and gently opened it. Inside, laid upon shining white satin, was an exquisite silver charm bracelet. Blair lifted it from the case and held it up, exclaiming over the delicate charms evenly spaced along its length.

  She didn’t usually wear any jewelry. It just got in the way in the kitchen, but for now, she couldn’t wait to put this piece on. She struggled a little with the parrot clasp before managing to secure it round her wrist. She turned her arm this way and that, admiring the reflection of light on the silver and the faint jangle of the charms as they bumped together. How thoughtful of Draco to give this to her. But then her cynical, insecure side wondered if he kept a cabinet filled with such things for his female guests. She knew for a fact that he was highly sought after in international circles. Just about every article about them back home in New Zealand had put pictures of his past companions side-by-side with whichever one they’d managed to snap of her and Draco together. Whatever the case, she loved the bracelet and she’d enjoy wearing it
.

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the sweet delights waiting for her. Blair’s mouth watered as she tore off a piece of the fresh pastry and popped it in her mouth. For a moment, even her critical chef’s brain disengaged as it melted on her tongue. By the time she’d picked up the last crumb and enjoyed the delicious nutty-flavored coffee, she was ready to face the day. She took a quick shower in the bathroom and dressed in a loose-fitting, raspberry-colored sundress, as the day promised to be warm. The button-down style was easy to wear, and then, just for something different, she grabbed a long, multicolored scarf and tied it across her head from above her fringe and twisted it into a knot at the nape of her neck. The tails dropped over her shoulder. She studied the effect in the mirror. It was kind of retro sixties, but with her coloring, it looked good and gave her a dose of much-needed confidence. She looked at the time. She was ready early.

  She paced the floor of her bedroom for a few minutes, finally settling in front of the tall windows that gave a stunning view out across the valley. In the distance, the darker shadows of the hills loomed over the verdant countryside. How different the landscape was from the blanket of winter she’d seen last time she was here. She wondered if she was to wait here for Draco, or if she should see if he was in his room. Waiting didn’t sit comfortably with her. Already she was itching to get out in the sunshine of what promised to be a beautiful spring morning. Her decision made, she spun around and opened the door.

  He’d said last night he was a couple of doors down the corridor from her. Her shoes made no sound on the petit point carpet of the hallway. It almost felt sacrilegious to walk on the fine craftsmanship. A couple of doors down he’d said; a rueful smile twisted her lips. He neglected to mention just how far down the hallway a couple of doors actually was.

  Blair hesitated when she reached the cream-and-gold paneled door, a twin to her own. She drew her fisted hand up and rapped gently on the wood. It opened almost immediately.

  “Buon giorno, Blair. You look much better this morning.”