It was no good; Mimi had to go to him. Pushing herself away from the bench, she covered the few feet that separated them and took hold of his right hand in silence.
Mimi had not even realised she had stopped breathing until Hal paused for a second to suck in a lung of cool evening air and she finally had the nerve to look at him. Although his eyes were open, Hal was staring into the branches of the trees above their heads and she could just make out the deep frown lines of his forehead.
‘I suppose it was the shock of seeing him go over like that, but a lifetime of instinct kicked in. He was my best friend. He was Tom. I couldn’t just let him go; I had to save him. Which is why I lunged after him, trying to grab a hold of him before it was too late.’
Hal looked across at Mimi and gave a slight shrug as she squeezed his hand. ‘But I couldn’t. The rope wasn’t long enough. There wasn’t anywhere to place a solid peg, so I took a risk with a small knife-blade pushed into a crack in the face, and prayed that it would take my weight for another few feet. It didn’t. And I fell. Some hero, huh?’
‘You tried. You should be proud of what you tried to do.’
‘Proud? I knew Tom had broken his neck when I was only halfway down. There was nothing I could have done to help him. It was hopeless. I was hopeless.’
Hal slipped his hand from Mimi’s fingers and hobbled along the grass, holding on to one tree trunk then another.
‘Now do you see why I couldn’t tell Aurelia or Poppy or anyone else about my stupid accident? I promised Tom that I would keep his secret. And I have kept my word, even when it was tearing me apart, knowing how much the family he loved were grieving. I tried to take care of them as best I could, but it was so hard. I was in pain. My leg wasn’t healing, and all the time all I could think of was what I could have done differently on that day. Every night I go through the same nightmare when I replay in my head the moment he went over the edge. Over and over again. I was so useless; I couldn’t even save my friend.’
‘Is that why you came back to help raise money for the foundation? To do something positive to remember him?’
He half-turned to Mimi and slowly shook his head from side to side. ‘You are a gentle and beautiful soul, but I think you already know that I came back to ease my guilt enough to see me through each day. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is be surrounded by photographs of Tom looking so alive and vibrant. But this is what Tom wanted as his legacy.’
She moved forward and stood in front of him, the palms of her hands pressed flat against his jacket so he was forced to look down into her face. ‘Aurelia told me you were a tower of strength to the family after Tom died. But who did you confide in, Hal? Who was your tower of strength when you needed someone to talk to?’
He slowly shook his head. ‘Poppy was great, but there was no one I could really turn to. How could they understand it all when I still don’t fully understand it myself?’
‘So you took all of that pain inside yourself. Oh, Hal.’ She was stroking his face now, her fingers moving back from his still-damp cheeks into his hair. ‘Tell me, what do you really want to do next with your life?’
He reached up, took her hands, brought them back down to her chest and held them there before taking a long breath. ‘What do I want to do? I want to get through the show tomorrow. I want to take some time out to see what my smashed ankle can do and then maybe, if I am lucky, I can rebuild some sort of photographic career for myself away from high-risk sports. But it is going to be very tough.’
A sweet smile flashed across his lips and he released one hand long enough to touch the tip of her nose. ‘Any jobs going in your knitting shop? You are going to need someone to sell the yarn while you build up your fashion-design empire.’
Mimi smiled back at him and sighed out loud. ‘Hal! Stop trying to change the subject. You already have a perfectly good job at Langdon Events. And in your spare time you seem to enjoy pointing a camera at people.’
She swallowed down a moment of fear than spoke her mind. ‘You should make that documentary about Tom. Aurelia deserves to hear the truth about the sacrifice he made—the sacrifice you both made. Will you think about it? Please? Otherwise I don’t know how I am going to get through tomorrow, with the two of you standing so close but with this massive secret creating a barrier between you.’
Hal gasped. ‘You can’t tell her,’ he rushed out. ‘You can’t tell anyone about Tom. Promise me, Mimi. This has to stay a secret between us.’
She listened to the sound of their breathing before shaking her head slowly from side to side. ‘No, Hal. I found out tonight that family secrets don’t stay hidden no matter how hard you want them to. Aurelia is probably still in the party with Poppy. Now would seem as good a time as any. And this is something only you can do.’
Mimi slowly, slowly slid her body out of the warm arms of this remarkable man who had been through so much and felt bereft the instant she broke away from his touch.
‘I can get home on my own. You have things to do before I see you tomorrow.’
And with that she turned her back on him so that he would not see her tears and walked slowly away from him, back into the real world of the street on the other side of the park and a black taxi-cab.
Mimi stretched out in her bed as the early-morning sunlight peeked in around the edges of her flowery bedroom curtains, snuggled down farther under the duvet and tried to find a comfortable spot on her pillow.
Only she couldn’t because she was still wearing her pearls from the night before—which had left their mark on her neck—and what was left of her make-up, which had left its mark on the pillow.
And she didn’t care.
Hal’s revelation about the sacrifice his friend had made for those he’d loved had hit her hard, like a tornado whirling around inside her head all night.
Because she had woken up with a muzzy head and one single, burning, crystal-clear thought.
She was not going to allow the Fiorini family to taint her first chance to show what she was capable of. Not now. Not ever.
From the moment when Luca Fiorini had declared to the party guests that she was the fourth generation of Fiorini designers, everything changed, and there was nothing that she could do to turn back time and cancel that out. The deed was done and she was going to have to work with that fact and get on with her life.
Her mind had been such a whirlwind on the taxi journey home that she had longed for the calm, peaceful sanctuary of the shop and apartment where she had made her home.
Except that by the time she had collapsed through her door the telephone had been ringing off the hook with calls from the press, friends and TV companies, the voice mail was full and in the end she had pulled the cord out of the wall so she could actually fall into an exhausted but restless sleep.
All night long one thing that her cousin Luca had said had rattled around inside her brain as she tossed and turned. He had congratulated her on her ‘first signature collection’.
Interesting idea. But why not go all the way and call it the Mimi Ryan Signature Collection? Drat Luca for being a better businessman than she was. If that was what a lifetime of marketing a brand brought to the table, then she would take that crumb of an idea and go with it as some vague repayment for the past. Not Mimi Fiorini Ryan. That would never happen. But if people associated her work with the Fiorini family then she would have to live with that and be honest and open.
Hal had been right to challenge her about the reason for her decision not to tell anyone that she was a member of the Fiorini family.
Life truly was too short to limit herself because of the past.
Well, that was about to change. If Luca was at the show later then she would deal with that as one professional to another. Who knew? She might even like him!
Little wonder her brain was buzzing with new goals and a new direction.
So, thank you, cousin Luca, for giving me the idea. Now all she had to do was create a brand-new business and work wi
th all of the determination she had left to make the Mimi Ryan Signature Collection a reality so she could promote it at the show.
Which was only a few short hours away.
Mimi pulled the pillow out from under her head and dropped it over her face, groaning out loud in despair.
She should be thanking Hal. Thanking him for trusting her with the secret he had been carrying about Tom’s death.
And what about thanking Hal for asking her to take a risk with him?
Oh, Hal!
The pillow slid down from her face, dragging what was left of her make-up with it.
She would have to see Hal again and work with him to make the show a success to the public, not just the professionals. But how was she going to face him?
He probably would not want to talk to her—not after what she had said last night as they’d parted.
After everything they had shared these past few days, after she had become so accustomed to the sound of his voice and the touch of his lips on her skin, after all of their hard work, she needed to share this special day with him. No matter what happened going forward.
Her throat tightened and she brushed away a treacherous slick of moisture from the corner of each eye. Flinging back the covers, she winced at the twisted mess that had been her best lingerie and sighed with pleasure as she recalled Hal’s touch, the way his fingers had smoothed over her stomach when he had helped her out of her corset.
A shiver ran across her body and she gulped down the memory. Whatever happened between them over the next few days, she was going to live with the memory of these last days with Hal as some of the best of her life.
She blinked and sat up slowly, saw her reflection in the mirror and winced, before touching two fingers to her pearls in a small salute to the girl with terrible bed-hair looking back at her.
Only forward. She had a lot of work to do today and she needed to get on and do it.
Only forward, indeed.
An hour later she was showered, make-up free and in the studio working at her PC with tea and toast to add extra fuel to the driving ambition. She was just thinking through a design for the company logo for ‘Mimi Ryan Signature Designs’ when the doorbell to the shop rang.
She was already out of her chair and moving before her feet slowed; she did not usually have customers at dawn on a Saturday morning.
It had to be the media wanting an interview—or Hal.
Perhaps he had come over to talk things through. It had to be him; nobody else would be crazy enough to turn up at this time of the morning.
Shuffling forward a little at a time, Mimi peeked through the studio door so she could see what was happening at the front of the shop, then looked again. There was nobody there.
Fighting back, and cursing herself for, a crushing sense of disappointment that it was not Hal, Mimi strolled to the door and opened it just wide enough to have a look outside.
Just as she was about to go back inside, her eye caught a brightly coloured package which had been left on the door step.
With a wry smile she bent down, swooped up the heavy package from her step and peeked inside. Her senses reeled as the intensely sweet aroma of white jasmine flowers filled her nose.
It was a living plant inside a beautiful, hand-decorated ceramic pot which would be a perfect match to the one on her patio.
Hal!
She glanced around the quiet early-morning street, her heart thumping, but there was no sign of anyone. Stepping backwards, still looking around in case she missed him, Mimi closed the front door and carried the jasmine back into her studio.
As she carefully pulled away the bright wrapping paper her fingers connected with a padded envelope which had been crudely taped to the side of the pot.
She inhaled deeply and opened the package. There was a plastic case with a DVD inside. And a piece of the wrapping paper which had been roughly torn from the roll so he could write a note on the back of it.
Oh, yes; that was Hal.
Trying to ignore her trembling fingers, Mimi unfurled the scroll of paper and read the few words he had scribbled in a fast hand:
I’m sorry for being too much of a coward to tell you my sordid past. I was way too scared that you would throw me if you knew what kind of a loser I was. Thank you for listening last night. And the camera never lies, Mimi. I love who you are, and you are beautiful. Question is, are you willing to take a chance on me?
Hal.
The camera never lies? He loves who I am? Oh, what had he done now?
Hardly daring to look at the monitor, Mimi slipped the DVD into her computer and clicked on the icon for the photos.
Bright colour photographs slid across the screen. There were dozens of them.
The art gallery; Mimi joking with some of the students, adding a crystallised flower to one of the tea-service cupcakes.
The studio; she was working on some extra embroidery on the sleeve of a jacket, her face creased and muscles straining with the total focus she was giving to the work.
A close-up of her working with Lola at the hotel, laughing with her head back in the sunlit elegance of that stunning room. Altering the hem on her blue dress with pins in her mouth.
All the time there were close-up shots of her neck, wrists, face and hair; details of the way she held a needle and the way her head dropped back when she laughed.
Her smile. Her sad face. Her tired, pale, drawn face.
She had not even realised that she leant forward when she spoke to a student.
But Hal had noticed it. He had been watching her from behind the camera lens. And he had been taking her photograph all week.
He loved who she was.
‘Oh, Hal,’ she said out loud.
There was a faint rustling noise behind her back, and she glanced behind her—to see Hal, standing on the patio, one hand in his pocket, the other resting on his cane. Just watching her. He looked exhausted, with a stubbly chin; his lovely dinner suit was grimy and crumpled. Perfection!
She looked into his face—and her heart broke.
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her to the patio and flung herself into his open arms, squealing, laughing and crying with happiness as he hoisted her from around the waist, hugged her and hugged her again in the sunshine, his bright laughter joining hers.
Mimi tried to answer, but her throat was too tight, the tears running down her cheeks.
When he spoke again, his voice was slower, calmer; a whisper. His forehead was pressed against hers, and his hand wrapped around her waist, drawing her shaking body into the warmth of his embrace.
‘You weren’t answering the phone so I had to come in through the back gate. Let me into your life, Mimi. Will you do that? Let me love you?’
Her response was to take his face between her cupped hands, close her eyes and kiss him long enough and lovingly enough to leave them both breathless.
‘Yes. Yes, Hal. I don’t need a camera and a photo collection to know that I love who you are. I understand who you are and I need to be with you.’
‘Does that mean I can keep my sleeping bag here permanently?’ he asked between kisses.
And that really did make her laugh. Mimi moved forward to kiss Hal very gently on the lips, safe inside the circle of his arms.
‘No more sleeping bags. Not any more. This is your home from now on. If you want it?’
‘More than anything. It’s time for this old soul to put down some roots, and there is nowhere else I want to be. I took your advice, by the way, which is why I have been awake all night.’
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘You told Aurelia.’
He nodded. ‘I asked Aurelia to come back to Poppy’s place after the party and I told them everything. And I mean everything! There were lots of tears, some laughter and then more tears, but they know the truth and that’s a start. Aurelia still wants to work on the documentary about Tom, and I’ve agreed to do it as soon as I am fit enough.’
‘Oh, Hal, that’s amaz
ing. I am so proud of you.’
‘And what about you? What do you want to do now?’ he asked, his smiling eyes never leaving her face as his long fingers cupped her chin and gently wiped away her tears of happiness with his thumbs.
‘Apart from loving you? Oh, I thought I might launch a brand-new company making ready-to-wear designs right here in my studio and sold through department stores. I will need to ask Poppy for help with introductions to people who can source materials and create the perfect website before making any decisions. Then I have to find investors and make samples for fashion buyers and the like.’ Mimi stroked his hair back from his forehead as he looked into her face.
‘Still the entrepreneur?’ he asked, trying not to laugh.
‘Absolutely. I am thinking of “Mimi Ryan Signature Designs”.’ Her hand lifted and she wrote the name in the air in large scrolling letters, testing it for size before smiling at Hal. ‘What do you think?’
‘I love it. There is no way you are going to get rid of me, young lady,’ Hal answered, his voice soft and caring. ‘You should know by now that the Langdon men are very hard to shake off. I talked to Poppy this morning and told her that I am officially reporting for duty in the London office for the next twelve months so I can focus on getting better while getting under her feet on a daily basis.’
‘Is that what you truly want, Hal?’ Mimi asked as he lowered her to the patio stones, begging him to say yes. She took both of Hal’s hands in hers as he nodded. ‘Be honest. Don’t you want to go back to France?’
‘France is my past and London my future. I might have a few things to learn about wedding planning, but it would do me good to be in one place for more than a few weeks at a time. Poppy has managed the company on her own long enough, and I can run the sports projects through the Internet from anywhere in the world. But that’s next week. Right now we have a fashion show to put on, young lady.’
‘Which means we need to get busy. There’s a lot to sort out in the next—’ she glanced down at her watch ‘—six hours. And then I am thinking of braving a holiday outside London, but I shall need a guide. Do you know anyone who might be available?’
Her Moment in the Spotlight Page 16