by Susan Lewis
There was nothing Bob could do about the calls Reiner made to the office, but those he was making to the flat Bob could erase, thanks to this digital wizardry, before Allyson got to hear them. He rang in regularly, and so far he’d wiped out seven different messages. The first ones he’d listened to, so he knew now how far the relationship had gone. He didn’t need to torment himself by listening to any more, so the very second he heard the man’s voice he hit the buttons that would eliminate the message from existence.
Futile though the gestures might finally prove to be, he had to do something to try and stop the relationship going any further, and this was all he could think of while Allyson was refusing to see him.
Shelley’s flat was a wonderfully warm refuge from the cold night outside, with a small flickering fire in the hearth, a lazy jazz tune playing on the CD and martinis already in the shaker.
‘Help yourself to a drink,’ Shelley shouted from the bathroom, when Allyson called out to let her know she’d arrived. ‘I’ll be right there.’
Slipping Shelley’s key back into her purse, Allyson took off her coat and went over to the bar to fill one of the elegant glasses Shelley used for martinis. The first sip produced such convincing signs of freeing the tension in her head that she took another right away and reached for one of the delicious, wrinkled black olives Shelley must have picked up at Luigi’s on the way home.
It wasn’t until she put her drink on the coffee table and flopped down on the sofa that she noticed the bronze figurine she’d given Shelley at Christmas, exquisitely displayed in a discreet glass case, with a small, hidden light flooding the smoothly sculpted surfaces of the dancer’s fans. As she looked at it Allyson felt deeply moved, for it reminded her of how close she and Shelley actually were, that she would buy something like that, and Shelley would display it so. It was a timely reminder, for she’d been in danger lately of forgetting how much their friendship mattered.
Coming into the room and seeing her looking Shelley said, ‘It displays well there, don’t you think?’
Allyson nodded, then looked up at her in the cosy half light.
Shelley turned away. ‘So, tell me all about Ravello,’ she said in a tone that Allyson couldn’t quite determine. ‘And I don’t mean the recce.’
Allyson reached for her drink and took another sip. ‘Ravello was great,’ she said. ‘We had a really good time.’
‘How lovely,’ Shelley remarked. ‘So are you in love?’
Allyson bit back the response the sarcasm deserved, and reminded herself that this was a lot harder for Shelley than it was for her. So all she said was, ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘So how far did you go?’ Shelley enquired.
‘We slept together, yes,’ Allyson responded. Then, attempting to soften the blow she added, ‘But he went off to New York the day after we got back and I haven’t heard from him since.’
Shelley frowned. ‘So he’s dumped you too?’
‘I’m not sure, he might have.’ In fact, it wasn’t what Allyson thought at all, at least she hadn’t until now. But it had happened to Shelley, so why not to her?
Shelley went to pour herself a martini. ‘Did you ever find out who the woman was he took to Valerie and Jean-Marc’s?’ she asked, her back still turned.
Allyson’s heart tripped. ‘No. Why?’ she said. ‘Did you?’
‘No, I haven’t spoken to them. I was just wondering if that’s what you were thinking.’
‘You read me too well,’ Allyson said, rolling her eyes. ‘Yes, I do keep thinking about her, though to be honest … Well, I really didn’t think she was an issue … I still don’t, but I called his office in New York earlier and his secretary asked me if I was Carolyn.’
Shelley walked over to the facing sofa and sat down. ‘Who’s Carolyn?’ she said.
‘Precisely.’
After a moment Shelley asked, ‘Are you sure she said Carolyn, not Corinne?’
Allyson thought. ‘I don’t know. I suppose it could have been Corinne.’ She laughed. ‘I’d like to think it was Corinne. Anyway, we don’t really want to talk about this. Tell me, have you decided if you’re coming to Italy for the party?’
Shelley flicked back her hair and reached for an olive. ‘I’m not sure,’ she responded. ‘I might not have the time.’
‘I wish you would,’ Allyson said, embarking on the persuasion she knew Shelley wanted.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Shelley promised.
Allyson’s eyes took on a mischievous glow. ‘Just think about all those gorgeous American movie stars and obscure European royalty. Not to mention the smouldering Italian waiters.’
Shelley’s eyebrows flickered, a small, disdainful attempt to join in the spirit of it.
‘We’re going to need someone from Tatler or Harpers to help identify the European royalty,’ Allyson said. ‘I put a call in to Terri Jankler, she should be up for it.’ She reached for her drink, took another large sip then steered the conversation out of the danger zone by saying, ‘Bob’s trying to get in touch. I think he wants to come back.’
Shelley’s eyes widened. ‘Well, there’s a turn-up,’ she commented. ‘Though I can’t say I’m really surprised now that Tessa’s no longer on the scene.’
Allyson didn’t say anything.
‘Is it good news?’ Shelley ventured.
‘I don’t know.’
’If you’re asking my advice,’ Shelley said, ‘I’d say stick with Mark.’
Allyson couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘You would?’
‘Well, how many more times do you want Bob to cheat on you?’
‘But Mark could be doing it now.’
Shelley looked irritated. ‘You don’t really think that,’ she retorted, ‘so let’s stop the charade, shall we?’
Allyson was angry, but not wanting to get into a row, which could easily happen the way things were going, all she said was, ‘We were talking about Bob.’
Shelley went to get the shaker and topped up their glasses. ‘How do you feel about him now?’ she asked in a friendlier voice.
Allyson sighed. ‘I don’t know. I mean I care about him still, obviously, and God only knows if I’ll ever be able to stop thinking of him as my husband … I suppose I did in Italy though, but in the end what happened there might just turn out to be a much needed boost for an ego-crushed woman on the rebound.’ She looked at Shelley. ‘Do you think I should give him another chance? Bob, I mean.’
Shelley helped herself to an olive. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any harm in talking to him,’ she said. ‘At least you’ll find out what he has to say.’
‘That’s the problem, I already know what he wants to say, but I’ve resolved not to decide anything until after we’ve been to Italy – as though Italy’s going to come up with the answers I need.’
‘You never know,’ Shelley responded, ‘it might.’
Later, after Allyson had gone, Shelley undressed, put away her clothes and wrapped herself in a white silk robe. Then she sat in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, and saw the face of a woman who was suppressing so much rage it was a miracle it didn’t show. But she couldn’t let it show, could she? Not to Allyson, not to anyone. But particularly not to Allyson, because if there was a breakdown in their friendship, or even the slightest fracture, there was every chance that the results would be so disastrous for Shelley that they hardly bore thinking about. Neither could she endure considering the unconscionable spite of fate, or was it God, that had brought Mark Reiner into her life, showing her everything she’d ever wanted, allowing her to believe that the waiting was over, and that dreams were truly worth having, only then to snatch him away and thrust him into the arms of her emotionally bruised and battered best friend. A friend whose injuries seemed to matter so much to God that he was salving them not only with a new love – a love that should have been Shelley’s – but with the return of the old love too. So now Allyson could choose, and while she was making up her mind it seemed that
God was going to fly her higher and higher in her new career, on a programme and in a role that had always been Shelley’s. And there was nothing Shelley could do, because all the power and glory were Allyson’s, given to her by Mark Reiner and a protective karma that would sever Shelley brutally from the programme were she to allow her feelings to show.
So she must control them, rein them in and then let them loose on God, or Life, or the Universe, or whatever the hell else it wanted to call itself. Oh, certainly it would be nice if she could continue dumping it all on Allyson, the way she had, in her mind, these past few weeks, but that would be playing straight into God’s hands, wouldn’t it, giving him good reason to rob her of a best friend, a career, everything she had left that meant anything at all, the way he had just robbed her of a lifetime partner. How it must have amused him to shove Mark Reiner in her face. Nice joke that, great entertainment. Let’s torment Shelley for a while before we use her dream to put Allyson back together. Shelley could handle it, because Shelley was used to losing out. She could withstand the heartache and pain, the loneliness and humiliation. After all, she’d had years of practice, since the sparkle of love and shining light of happiness had died with her father, when Shelley was twelve and God had first decided to show her the darkness. That, emotionally, was where he had left her, for there had never been anyone who could replace her father, no-one who could light up her world that way, and God had never even seemed to consider there might be a need. Instead he had given her beauty and success, material joys and the kind of freedom that hurt. In fact, everything that was good in her life was like one huge showy bandage attempting to cover the fatal wounds of neglect. But who the hell cared? What impact did her misery have on a God who wasn’t even listening? And why should he listen, why should anyone, when Venus had bestowed all her bounteous gifts on the woman who was crying out for help?
But the crying was going to stop now. So was the pain, so was the longing. And all those trusty little lieutenants of his, like hope, belief, faith, trust, they were wasting their time trying to work their magic on her. She was turning her back on all of it now and letting God know that none of it, none of it, mattered any more. Allyson could have Mark Reiner, she could have Bob Jaymes too, and let her be happy with the great abundance of choice God had given her, and while she was at it she could be happy for Shelley’s friendship too.
Allyson was laughing and shrieking as the ice-cold champagne trickled down over her body into the madly whirling jets of the jacuzzi bath she was standing in. Mark was beside the bath, a half empty bottle in one hand, a full glass in the other, as he lowered his mouth to her breasts and licked off the champagne. Then, seeing how aroused she was becoming, he took a mouthful of champagne and letting it go over her lips he began sucking and kissing them, as he poured more over her breasts and stomach. His tongue was soon to follow and when he finally reached her most sensitive part she opened her legs to allow him in closer and deeper.
Then his mouth was back on hers and he was holding her hard against him, the coarse hair on his chest rubbing her skin, and the hard muscles of his thighs taking her weight as she raised first one leg, then the other, to wrap them around him and take him inside her.
After a while he stopped kissing her and when she opened her eyes to look into his she saw he was laughing. She laughed too, for she knew that there wasn’t much they could do with this position, except feel proud they’d achieved it.
‘I could give you a tour of the apartment,’ he said.
‘Like this?’
‘Like this. You’ve only seen the kitchen and bedroom, and if I carried you through the rest of the place I could say I made love to you in all eight rooms in less than an hour. Or …’
She laughed. ‘Or?’
He stepped into the jacuzzi. ‘We could get right back in here and let those jets drive you wild while I’m right up inside you.’
Her breath caught on his words, for hearing him talk that way only increased her desire.
He kissed her again, then setting her back down in the huge, octagonal bath he settled himself onto one of the padded bench seats and drew her down onto his erection. Then opening her legs even wider, he increased the speed of the jets until moaning with ecstasy her head fell back against his shoulder and she turned her face into his neck.
The sensations were so intense, cutting through her with such harsh, insistent power that an orgasm was devouring her almost before he could move.
‘Oh God, yes, yes,’ she cried, as his fingers replaced the jet, and his mouth sought hers. Then he was lifting her up, carrying her into the bedroom and lying her down on the bed. As he came into her again she could feel the immense hardness of him filling her and filling her, then pulling back gently before sharply filling her again. Then the pace of his thrusting began building and building, until he was ramming himself into her and crying out her name as the explosion of his climax erupted into the renewed torrents of hers.
Minutes later, as they were still breathless and clinging together, he kissed her on the mouth then rolled onto his side so he was no longer crushing her. Morning sunlight streamed through the open curtains, early-morning traffic honked and roared its way along Eaton Terrace.
‘I could get used to this kind of homecoming,’ he told her.
Laughing she kissed him again, then went into the bathroom to fetch what was left of the champagne. ‘Are you going to fall asleep on me?’ she asked, when she came back and saw that his eyes were closed.
Lifting an arm he looked at his watch. ‘It’s four in the morning, New York time,’ he reminded her.
‘And nine o’clock here, so I have to leave for work pretty soon.’
He watched her as she sat naked and cross-legged on the bed and refilled the glass with champagne. ‘Did you see your husband while I was away?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve decided to do it when we get back from Italy.’
‘We leave tomorrow,’ he said.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ she laughed. Then, unable to resist touching him, she scratched her fingers gently over his thighs.
‘Did you consider that he might have called in to erase the messages I left you?’ he said.
Her eyes came up to his face. ‘Yes,’ she answered, and though she felt glad to have a reason for why she hadn’t heard from Mark, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Bob that he had felt compelled to do something like that.
‘Have you reached any decisions?’ Mark asked.
She looked away, staring at the luggage he had brought in from the airport. He’d called her as soon as he’d landed, demanding to know how, in this day and age, they’d managed to miss each other’s calls for almost two weeks. She’d been so thrilled to hear him that it had been her suggestion to meet this morning, and now here she was, sitting on the end of his huge, masculine bed, not wanting to be anywhere else in the world, yet still managing to feel worried about Bob.
‘Only that I’m not ready to make any yet,’ she answered.
‘Then don’t,’ he said gently. ‘And certainly don’t make any for me.’
Not entirely sure how to take that, or even how she felt about it, she resumed the stroking of his legs, and wished she had better control over her feelings so that she could have at least some idea of what she should do.
‘I’ve organized for us to have separate rooms when we get to Ravello,’ he said.
She nodded, knowing that if he hadn’t done it then she would have, for the press were going to be present in droves and neither of them wanted the party to be about them, when it was actually about the programme and hotel.
‘How are things with Shelley?’ he asked.
‘OK.’ She shrugged. ‘I think she’s accepted us, but she really did …’ She stopped as she realized she was about to tell him something Shelley would never want him to know, which was how deeply Shelley had believed he was the right man for her. She looked down at his face, and understood the depth of Shelley’s disapp
ointment, for she knew how she would feel were he to leave her now. Then she allowed her eyes to travel down over the rest of his body to where her fingers were making him hard.
‘I hope you’re intending to do something about that,’ he said darkly.
Allyson smiled, then tipping the contents of her champagne glass all over his erection, she lifted it from his stomach and set about licking it all off again.
Much later, after they’d showered and dressed for the office, he went to check on the messages that had come in since he’d arrived back. The earlier calls he’d picked up on his way in from the airport, but the phone had rung a couple of times in the past two hours and he needed to satisfy himself there were no emergencies. There weren’t, but Allyson was standing right beside him as the machine replayed Tessa’s jubilant voice welcoming him back from the States and telling him how much she was looking forward to seeing him in Italy.
Chapter 15
THE MAJORITY OF the sixty specially selected guests began arriving in Ravello at midday. Most came on the chartered plane that flew into Naples from London, while others, like the charismatic Italian tenor and his wife, and the celebrated French comedienne and her gay brother, motored down under their own steam, which in the Italians’ case turned out to be a Lamborghini Diablo, and for the French it was a classic 1940s Lagonda complete with dicky seat and air horn. The chosen Americans, who included a Pulitzer Prize-winning author, four internationally renowned movie stars, a teenage rock legend, and several US-dwelling members of the European aristocracy, would be flying straight into Rome later that day, to be met by a small fleet of limousines that would ferry them down to the hotel.
The weather couldn’t have been better, as the sun blazed down on the steep, winding roads that led up to the picturesque mountain-top village, and the wild spring flowers that were shooting up all over were as uplifting as the heady promise offered by the terraces of blossoming vines. Allyson couldn’t help being thrilled by all the delight and enchantment as she and Shelley welcomed the guests to the magnificent Palazzo. But though Shelley gushed along with them at the very Italian quaintness of their surroundings, she was much lower-key, sometimes almost to the point of rudeness. Giovanni was with them, in the small church piazza, standing in for Mark who wasn’t expected until the following day, so between them he and Allyson managed to upstage Shelley’s disdain in a way that was almost making Shelley worse.