More Than Neighbors

by Isabel Keats

  Her neighbor continued to sleep, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Cat took the opportunity to examine his face, and she feasted her eyes on his strong, attractive features: the square chin, slightly cleaved down the center, showed determination; the lips, firm and sensual, had made her go crazy just a few hours before . . . and suddenly, she was aware that the way she felt about Leopold was different from how she’d ever felt for any other man, and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was much more than just a passing infatuation.

  Somehow, without her being aware of it happening, Leopold had become essential to her happiness. Catalina could not understand: Why him? Why someone with whom, to all appearances, she had nothing in common? She shook her head, incapable of finding the answer to her questions. All she knew was that, after so many years of superficial relationships, she had fallen in love like an idiot with her neighbor. And yet she was not at all sure whether Leo felt anything more than mere physical attraction for her.

  Truly scared for the first time in her life, Cat carefully got up to avoid waking him. For a few seconds, she remained by the bed and gazed at him, fighting her stabbing desire to lie beside him and kiss him. Biting her bottom lip with anxiety, she said to herself, I’m a fool. I have to get out of here, I need to think . . . Unable to cope with the shock at realizing she was in love, Catalina did what she usually did when things got too complicated: she decided to run. Without making a sound, she gathered her things as best she could—fortunately her painting equipment was in the trunk of the car. She scribbled a note with a shaky hand:

  Something urgent has come up. Sorry for taking your car.

  Please bring Milo when you come back to London.

  Thanks for everything. Say good-bye to your mother for me.

  Cat

  Suitcase in hand, Catalina looked at the sleeping man one last time, then crept out, gently closing the door behind her.

  A couple of hours later, Leopold woke feeling happier than he ever had before. With a smile on his lips, he stretched out his hand to the other side of the mattress, but he was disappointed to find it cold and empty. Unconcerned, he opened his eyes, assuming that Catalina was in the bathroom. Shame, he thought to himself, I’m dying to have her in my arms again. With a smile still on his face, Leopold ran through the previous night’s events. He’d never made love to anyone with such intensity, and yet surprisingly, he still was not sated. His wicked little neighbor had certainly done a good job on him; the defenses he’d built around himself all his life were now in pieces at his feet. He’d never felt so alive—he even had an urge to sing out loud.

  His eyes suddenly fell on a piece of paper folded on the bedside table, and his smile disappeared. Unsettled, with a bad premonition, he threw the sheets aside and got up. He slowly unfolded the note with shaking fingers. He had to read it several times, and when he’d finally grasped its meaning, he fell onto the mattress as if someone had struck him with a metal bar, sitting on the edge of the bed staring into nothingness.

  Catalina was gone.

  The only woman he’d ever loved—it was true, he adored Catalina with a passion that went far beyond mere sexual desire—had disappeared, leaving him with nothing more than a hastily scrawled note by way of a good-bye. Furious, Leopold crumpled the piece of paper into a ball and threw it angrily across the room.

  Blast her! How could she have left him after what they had just shared? Did last night mean nothing to her? Filled with rage, Leopold went to his room and threw on some clothes. This won’t end here! he promised himself. He ran down the stairs and came across the butler on his way to the dining hall, bearing an enormous silver coffeepot. Leo took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Saunders, have you seen Miss Stapleton this morning?”

  “Yes, Master Leopold. Miss Stapleton left a couple of hours ago in your Range Rover. She asked me to tell your mother that her family had called, and that she had to return right away. I hope it’s not bad news, sir.”

  “I hope so, too,” he replied, barely aware of what he was saying. “As soon as I’ve packed, I’ll leave for London. Saunders, please tell James to bring Milo as soon as possible, and to put him in one of the cars.”

  “Very well, Master Leopold.”

  “Has my mother been down yet?”

  “Yes, sir, she is having breakfast in the dining hall at this moment.”

  “Thank you, Saunders.”

  Leopold opened the heavy wooden door and found his mother, impeccable as ever, sitting at one end of the table as she examined a tray of pastries with a slight frown. “Good morning, Leopold,” she greeted him stiffly, while Saunders, standing beside her, served her coffee. “May I ask why you did not wait for me yesterday evening so that we could all return from the party together?”

  “I had to speak to Catalina about a few things,” Leopold replied impatiently.

  “Saunders told me that Cat had to leave rather suddenly this morning.” Her expression seemed to say, I thought that young lady a bit odd.

  “Yes, some family business came up, but don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. I’m returning to London today as well.”

  His mother’s hand, holding a piece of croissant, stopped on the way to her mouth, and she looked at him with surprise. “But dear, the Camerons have invited us to dinner tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. Please pass on my apologies. I absolutely must return to London.”

  “But—”

  Her son interrupted her. “Good-bye, Mother.” He bent and touched his lips lightly against her cheek and, without giving her time to object, disappeared through the door.

  Ten minutes later, Leopold headed to London at full speed, not concerned in the least about being pulled over. As soon as he got to the city, he went straight to Cat’s apartment and rang the bell, enraged. For a few seconds, he thought nobody was in, but finally the door opened and Leopold froze.

  “Good afternoon, Leopold.” Paul Winston greeted him with a smile. “Hullo, Milo, hullo, boy!” The man bent down and affectionately stroked the giant mastiff, who was barking frenetically at the sight of his master.

  “I didn’t know you were back from Italy,” Leopold said when he’d recovered from the shock of finding him there.

  “I got back last night, and it couldn’t have been more timely, to be honest. My niece arrived in a fluster this morning, telling me that something urgent had come up and she had to leave the apartment right away. Youngsters today are so irresponsible.” Winston shook his head disapprovingly.

  “Did she say anything else?” A savage anger overcame Leopold.

  “Only that it was something to do with work, and that she would be out of reach for a couple of months.”

  “A couple of months!”

  Paul gave him an indulgent look, as if he’d guessed the reason for his neighbor’s strange behavior. “Charming girl, my niece, isn’t she?” Paul gave him a conspiratorial wink, but Leopold merely shrugged, which seemed to amuse his stout neighbor even more. “Though I must say she’s always been a bit batty. Sometimes I can’t understand what’s going through her head.”

  “Well, if she shows up again, please tell her I’d like to speak to her,” Leopold cut in, trying to appear as calm as possible.

  “Don’t worry, I will. See you later, Leopold.”

  Leopold went to his apartment and dialed Catalina’s number. For the umpteenth time, he heard a recorded voice notifying him that it had not been possible to connect his call. He swore under his breath and sat on the sofa trying to think of someone else to call. A second later, he telephoned his secretary to ask her to get him the numbers for Catalina’s parents and her friend Fiona’s shop.

  As soon as he had the numbers, he called Cat’s mother first. Marisa was very friendly and said that her daughter had called to tell her she’d be spending a few months away to work on her paintings. She told him that Catalina hadn’
t said where she was going, which was no surprise, because when Catalina decided to go and paint, she didn’t want to be disturbed. Leopold thanked her for the information, said good-bye, and called Fiona’s boutique, but an answering machine told him that the shop was closed for Easter.

  Desperate, he put his head in his hands, not knowing what to do. A few minutes later, he decided to take a shower to help clear his mind. Under the hot jet of water, burning images of the two of them together in bed smoldered uncontrollably in his mind, turning the empty feeling that had gripped him since Catalina had disappeared into an unbearable void.

  There were still a couple days of the holiday break left, so he had no option but to wait. Despairing, he did some work in an attempt to stop his brain from continuously returning to what had happened between Cat and him. During those two days, even though she knew his cell number, Leopold didn’t leave his apartment in case Catalina called him at home or returned, but he heard no news of her whereabouts. On the morning of the third day, he went to Fiona’s boutique before it even opened and surprised her as she was lifting the metal shutter in front of the shop. “Hi, Leo. It is you, isn’t it?” The little redhead noted the dark rings around Leo’s eyes and his unshaven cheeks.

  “Hello, Fiona. I wanted to ask you if you’ve heard from Catalina.”

  “Cat? She called to say she was going off to paint for a few months and that she’d be unreachable.”

  “You don’t know where she might have gone, do you?” Leopold ran his fingers, which were trembling slightly, through his short gray hair.

  Fiona looked at him with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Leo, I have no idea. When Cat decides to go and paint, she tends to keep her phone turned off.”

  “I see.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, utterly exhausted.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” the young woman asked, wanting to help her friend’s neighbor; she really did hate to see such an attractive man suffer.

  “No, but thanks, Fiona.” Downcast, Leopold took his leave and headed for the school where Catalina taught. There they told him what he already knew: Catalina had gone away to paint for a few months, and she had arranged for another teacher to take her place for the remainder of the term. Back at his apartment, dizzy, and with a searing pain in his head, he felt a deep unease. It suddenly occurred to him that, just a few weeks earlier, he had been convinced that all he had to do to forget about Catalina Stapleton was sleep with her.

  What an idiot he had been!

  A scornful grimace spread across his face. Making love to Catalina had been the worst mistake he’d ever made. The young woman had gotten so far under his skin that he no longer knew where he ended and she began.

  With impotent rage, he thumped his pillow several times with his fist. Then he grabbed it desperately, as if it were Cat’s body he was holding onto, and sank his face into it, feeling like the most wretched man in the world.

  CHAPTER 18

  Five months later, Leopold Sinclair was at work when his secretary entered his office with a copy of the Times in one hand. “Thanks, Janet, leave it there, please,” he said without looking up from the documents he was reviewing.

  When he’d finished his task, he opened the newspaper to scan the day’s news. Turning the page, he caught a glimpse of one of the many advertisements in the arts section. Unable to believe his eyes, he froze and read it again more closely.

  TODAY AT 7 PM

  OPENING OF THE ART EXHIBITION

  INNER LANDSCAPES

  BY CATALINA STAPLETON

  THE TORRES GALLERY

  Leopold continued to stare at the newspaper advertisement without actually seeing it. The sharp pain surging through his belly surprised him; he had been sure that time had healed the damage that Catalina’s unexplained disappearance had caused to him. His first instinct was to tear out the page, crumple it into a ball, and throw it in the wastebasket. But he immediately changed his mind. He had always faced his problems head-on, and this time would be no exception.

  Though he didn’t think he still harbored any deep feelings for Catalina, he wanted to make sure. Leopold thought for a while and made a decision: he would go to the gallery and say hello to her, as he would anyone with whom he had once shared good times.

  Nothing more.

  Satisfied at how relaxed he felt after making his decision, he called Harry’s wife to ask her to accompany him.

  When he arrived at the gallery, Leopold noticed Catalina in a corner speaking to Diego Torres and a couple he did not recognize. Though he had known he was going to see her, Leo wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotion that came over him when he did. Cat was as beautiful as he remembered; she wore skinny pants and a baggy, pink shirtdress, and she was radiant, as if lit from within. Leo stopped in his tracks, unable to take another step, and Lisa, who was walking beside him, looked at him curiously. “Are you all right, Leopold?”

  He took a deep breath before replying. “It’s nothing, Lisa. Let’s go and say hello to the artist.” With his arm around his friend’s waist, he approached Cat, who was laughing at something Diego had said. “Hello, Catalina.”

  “Leo!” All traces of color left her cheeks, and Leopold, seeing her turn so pale, felt like a ghost come to torment her. “I . . . I wasn’t . . . expecting to see you here.”

  It was obvious that Catalina was struggling to find the right words, which gave him some satisfaction. With undisguised interest, Lisa looked from one to the other, as if she could sense the tumultuous emotions passing between them. “I saw the advert in the newspaper and decided to drop by.” His advantage of being prepared allowed him to address his ex-neighbor with apparent indifference.

  “I’m . . . It’s nice to see you.” Her voice faltered, and it was clear that she was reeling from the shock of seeing him again.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Catalina. You seem well.” His eyes glided arrogantly over her body, as if he was assessing every inch of her and not finding a single one up to snuff.

  Cat began to feel queasy, and she bit her bottom lip anxiously. “Thanks,” she whispered. She suddenly seemed lifeless, bereft of her usual spirit.

  Eventually, Leopold managed to return his eyes to her pretty face and, with a huge effort, continued his façade of indifference. “Well, we’ll let you carry on chatting. We’ll take a look around,” he said serenely, without a hint of his inner turmoil.

  “Great.” Catalina was still white, but it was clear she was beginning to get herself back under control.

  Leopold and Lisa took their time exploring the exhibition, stopping in front of each painting to examine it closely before moving on to the next. “Your friend is very good,” said Lisa as she admired a painting of the small Cornish cove that brought back so many memories for Leopold.

  “Yes,” he replied, his eyes following Catalina, now talking to another group of people.

  Just then, Diego Torres approached her from behind and placed a hand on her stomach. Leopold watched as Cat turned her head and gave him a sweet smile. All of a sudden, as if struck by a flash of lightning, he was paralyzed.

  “What’s up, Leopold? You’ve turned pale.” Concerned, Lisa rested her hand on his arm and instantly felt how rigid he’d become.

  “Sorry, Lisa, but I have to take you home now. I promise I’ll explain later.” Her friend was barely able to utter the words through his clenched jaws, and, taken aback, the woman let him drag her toward the exit without protesting.

  Catalina watched them leave, and an agonizing wave of jealousy washed over her. The woman who was with her old neighbor seemed nothing like Alison: she was tall, dark haired, and very attractive, with a kind face. Under other circumstances, if Cat hadn’t known the woman was with Leo, she would have taken an immediate liking to her, but just thinking that the woman was Leo’s latest conquest made Cat want to murder her. Surprised b
y her violent emotions, Cat tried to calm herself down; she could not allow Leopold’s sudden appearance to spoil her peace of mind.

  Seeing him after so many months had been quite a shock. He looked thinner, but still as attractive as ever, and when he approached to say hello, she was left in no doubt that she had not been able to forget him after all. Despite the passing of time, though she’d thrown herself into her painting, she had been unable to wipe the image of her ex-neighbor from her mind: he returned again and again to torment her.

  Annoyed with herself, Catalina shook her head, determined to stop thinking about him, at least for the moment, and instead turned back to the man she was talking to, trying to concentrate on what he was saying. After the party, Diego offered to take her home, and they said good-bye at the front door of her house. “Good night, Cat, and congratulations. The exhibition was a real success: you sold more than half of your paintings.”

  “Thanks so much, Diego. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Sleep well, my angel. Remember, we’re a team. We’re going to make ourselves very, very rich.” He winked at her and she laughed.

  “We’ll see. Good night.”

  Diego leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Catalina stood watching him as he climbed into his car and drove off, then she rummaged for her keys in her giant handbag.

  “Catalina . . .”

  The deep voice made her jump, and her heavy set of keys fell to the ground with a cheerful jingle. “Leo! What are you doing here?”

  “I followed you,” he admitted, frowning. “I wanted to know where you lived, but none of your friends would tell me.”

  “Maybe that’s because I didn’t want you to know,” she responded, annoyed, and she bent down to pick up her keys.