“You know what you’re doing,” Melania promised and Saphire nodded.
She did. Her fear was born from years of not expecting enough of herself. But those days were past.
Jordan was in her past.
Thaddeus was in her past.
And a whole life spanned ahead of her. She pushed away the thought that it would be a life without Thaddeus. Eventually she would adapt to that.
As well-dressed Europeans began to arrive at the expensive, impossible-to-get-tickets-to charity dinner, Saphire found pleasure whispering into the gaps of her heart.
Her boss thought she could do this. And she could! For the first time in her life she had a job and someone actually thought she was good at it.
The food was excellent. Saphire stood in the kitchen, as Mel would have, and checked each table’s meals as they went out. It was not acceptable for a single thing to be out of place; hair in the truffled scallops would have been dire! At one point Saphire averted near-disaster when she spotted a small crack in a plate intended for a Scandinavian princess, but a quick word with the chef ensured the error was swiftly corrected.
Nerves were bouncing through her, but they were good nerves. For almost an hour she had put Thaddeus out of her mind completely. The sun was setting over Rome, the band had begun to play their latest hit, and Saphire was feeling like she had pulled off a true accomplishment.
She skirted the edge of the room, smiling noncommittally as she went.
Until her gaze clashed with a familiar pair of brown eyes. She was instantly startled out of her fog of self-congratulation. A small cry escaped her lips and she froze, her feet planted to the spot.
She watched as he walked towards her, and anxiety crept back into her being.
“Saphire.” His voice was kind, his smile genuine.
“Rocco,” she responded tightly.
They hadn’t spoken again after he’d outed her on the balcony.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, casting a pointed look at her clipboard.
“Working,” she murmured. Her eyes were already darting past him, scanning the room. How had it not occurred to her that Thaddeus might have come to this charity affair?
“He isn’t here,” Rocco seemed to read her mind.
Her cheeks glowed but she didn’t deny that she’d been looking for him.
“You work for the venue?”
“No, the charity,” she corrected distractedly. People were dancing, plates were being cleared. There was an hour before the auction was scheduled to start. Melania always did it that way. She liked people to have had a few wines before placing their bids; it certainly nudged the bids up.
“I see. Thad never mentioned …”
“He didn’t know,” she interrupted stiltedly.
“Have you spoken to him?” Rocco prompted, though of course he knew she hadn’t.
“Not since I interrupted him on a date with some sexy supermodel.” The response was tart and she couldn’t find it in her heart to care.
Rocco’s laugh surprised her. “Ah, that would be Cassandra.”
“Would it?”
“They’re old friends.”
“I see.”
Rocco shrugged and Saphire took it as an escape opportunity. “I should keep moving.”
“Do you have time for a dance?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. My boss is sick so I’m standing in for her.”
He nodded slowly, speculation in his expression. “Hope Renewed is a great charity. I’m impressed.”
“I’ve done volunteer work for them for years. A job opened up that was more permanent and I thought it was time I do something for myself, you know?”
“Of course,” he agreed. “And your husband? Does he support you in this?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You mean your spy hasn’t fed you that information? I’m getting divorced.”
He laughed once more. “I am sorry,” he lifted his hands to reinforce the apology. “Thaddeus is a valued friend. A very wealthy friend who is often prey to … well. You can imagine. Having just buried Aristotle I was concerned his judgment might have been lacking. I felt it was prudent to look out for his best interests.”
“You don’t think he can do that himself?”
“Hard to say,” he murmured.
“Not for me. I think he’s perfectly capable of managing his own affairs.”
“Interesting choice of word,” he said with a wry smile.
Saphire felt her stomach swirl. “I really have to get back to work.”
“Have a drink with me later,” he invited.
Saphire shook her head. “I’ve got a heap to do here. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure we’ll catch up again in the future.”
Saphire shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Are you in Rome permanently?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m here for at least six months. That’s where the position is.” She cleared her throat and at his blank look clarified: “The position I applied for. It’s here. In Rome.”
“I see.” He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a crisp white business card. “I’m in Rome also. This is my card. If you need anything, please do call.”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t mean to be rude but you’re probably the last person I’d ever call.”
His laugh was a deep rumble. “Oh, really? And why is that?”
“Well,” she lifted her finger and tapped it against the opposite digit. “Let’s see. You’re Thaddeus’s friend, for a start off, and I’d rather forget everything I ever had to do with him.” She swallowed past the pain. “And you’re super sneaky! You spied on me and tried to ruin everything between us.”
“I already told you …”
“I know.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wishing the butterflies in her stomach would go away. “The thing is, Rocco, I was going to tell him. I’d fallen in love with him by the time you arrived. I knew I had to sort it all out properly but … have you ever had a time where you just couldn’t see the forest for the trees?”
He frowned. “I don’t know the reference.”
“It’s a saying. It means that everything’s such a mess you can’t quite see how to get out of it. I mean I was married. I had been with my husband for a very long time. It’s not easy to unravel a relationship like that. And I had just met Thaddeus but I felt more for him than I’d ever known possible. He blew my whole conception of life wide open. Until then I’d had no clue it could be like that. I mean it. I thought I loved Jordan … I didn’t. I didn’t have any idea what love was.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a hand wave, to catch her attention.
Kate.
Saphire frowned. The other woman was wearing a strange black dress - the kind of thing a grandmother might wear to a funeral - and her blonde hair was frizzing around her face. The first time Saphire had met her, Kate had reminded her of a ballerina. She was very delicate, fair and graceful; she was also completely timid, and in that moment, she looked like a very unfashionable, very terrified kitten.
That would never do.
“Look, none of this matters.” She forced a smile to her face. “Mr Konstanides has moved on, and I have too. Maybe I was just meant to fall for him so that I could get out of my marriage. I don’t know. But I’m working tonight. And this job is the first good thing I’ve done in years. So I’m not going to stuff it up.”
Rocco, usually talkative and opinionated, found it hard to know how to respond to her monologue. “Saphire,” he called after her retreating back.
She turned, her brows lifted enquiringly. He lifted his hand to his face in the universally understood gesture of a telephone. “Phone me. I will take you for lunch.”
She nodded, but Saphire knew she never would. Not in a million years. It would be like cracking open a vault that she’d cemented closed.
“Kate,” she gasped as she locked eyes with the other woman. “This won’t do.” She cast o
ne final gaze over the room and then linked arms with Melania’s assistant. “This way.”
She nudged her to the side room she’d been using as an office for the past week and flicked a light on. It cast a pale glow over everything.
“You can’t wear that.”
Kate frowned. “Why ever not?” Her accent was a mix of east-London and something else. Something foreign.
Saphire shook her head. “Because you look like a … like a … like a particularly sartorially challenged eighty year old, that’s why.”
To her surprise, Kate burst out laughing. “I know. But that’s my inner superhero. I’m a grandma. Truly I am. I don’t know why the heck Mel thought I’d be a good substitute for her.”
Saphire nodded sagely. “Well, she obviously has faith in you, so you’d better start trying to deserve it.”
She scanned the blonde’s figure. “You’re shorter than I am, but otherwise I think we can make something of mine work. Take that off.” She called over her shoulder as she moved to her suitcase in the corner. She’d brought a few changes of clothes with her from her apartment on Mel’s advice. You never know what might happen. Always be prepared!
And so she was. She lifted a cream dress out and held it aloft for Kate’s inspection.
“Um, no,” Kate shook her head. “It’ll make me look like a piece of paper.”
Saphire nodded. “Fair point.”
She lifted the next dress out, a gorgeous green prom dress. “No!” Kate laughed. “God, it’s way too fancy.”
“I’m afraid I only have fancy clothes,” Saphire murmured with a frown.
The final dress was the perfect shade of blue to flatter Kate’s eyes. Though it was low cut, it was long, which Kate approved of.
“Maybe,” she scrunched her nose up thoughtfully. “It could work.”
“Try it on. Quickly,” Saphire urged.
Kate took it and, with hands that weren’t quite steady, pulled it over her head. It fit perfectly, though if anything it was a little loose around the breasts.
“Sorry,” Saphire grinned. “I had it let out there.”
“I can see why!” Kate ran her hands over the fabric. “How does it look?”
Saphire stood back to appraise the other woman. “It’s good. But your hair …”
“I got caught in the rain, I know. It’s a mess.”
“Did it rain?” Saphire queried, already reaching for her straightening tongs. “I’ve been locked in here all day.”
“Yeah, just for a while.” Kate sighed. “It was beautiful. Don’t you love the smell of rain in the summer?”
“It’s almost autumn,” Saphire pointed out prosaically.
“You know what I mean.” Kate shrugged her slender shoulders.
“Yes, I think I do.” Saphire moved towards the doors. “I have to get back out there. Straighten your hair. Use any of my makeup you need. Remember, Mel’s counting on you.”
“Isn’t this a bit excessive?” Kate called to Saphire as she was almost beyond hearing.
Saphire clipped back and waited patiently for Kate to expand.
“Well, I’m a secretary. I’m going to get bid on by some guy looking for help transcribing his Christmas card guest list or listening to him dictate a novel,” she smothered a laugh. “Wouldn’t it be better if I look a bit … secretarial?”
“No.” Saphire’s voice was crisp. “Trust me, everyone on stage will look like they’re at a ball. Which you are. I’ll see you soon.”
She scanned the room and told herself she wasn’t looking for Rocco. But when she didn’t see him, her heart fell. He was a connection to Thaddeus, and for that reason alone he was important to her.
Rocco, however, had moved beyond the press of the elegant soiree to a more private balcony. He stared over the city and its twinkling lights with a sense of patriotism and pride that everyone felt of their own country at some time or another.
Thaddeus answered the call on the second ring.
“Rocco, ciao,” his voice was deep, as though he’d been sleeping.
“Thad. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“You sound like I’ve woken you up.”
“No.”
Rocco shook his head. “Am I keeping you from something else, then?”
Thaddeus stared at his laptop in frustration. “You could say that.”
“This is important.”
“Yes?” Thaddeus punched a key but the laptop was still frozen.
“I’ve just had an unexpected encounter with your married lover.”
Thaddeus froze. His mind swam. The unexpected pronouncement robbed him of breath. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the ribs. “Where?”
“In Rome. She’s organized a charity event I buy tickets to. You came with me a few years back. Do you recall?”
Thaddeus waved a hand through the air. His feelings were rioting through his body; his blood was simmering.
“How … how did she seem?”
“Good,” Rocco murmured. “She is still in love with you.”
Thaddeus closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I doubt that.” Thoughts of their last encounter were burned into his mind. Her face. Her tears. The hurt in her face as she’d stared across at Cass.
“She certainly loved you then,” Rocco amended, and Thaddeus’s heart groaned.
“Well, which is it? Is she over me or not?”
“Hard to tell, and I’m not sure you care.”
Thaddeus tapped his fingers along the top of his desk. “I care,” he conceded finally. “I was … harder on her than I needed to be, in the end.”
“She’s living in Rome.”
Thaddeus frowned. “Why?”
“For work.”
What could he say? What should he do? “She’s just someone I used to know, Rocco. Why are you telling me this?”
Rocco shrugged. “I got the feeling it was more serious between the two of you.”
“No,” Thaddeus intoned flatly. “It was just sex.”
He disconnected the call angrily and stood from his desk. He needed to work, but all he could think about was Saphire. Beautiful, cheating, sexy, sweet, dangerous Saphire.
11
“His name is Thaddeus Konstanides and he’s drop dead gorgeous,” Melania husked, reaching for her water.
Saphire stared at her notepad, little stars dancing in her eyes. “And?” She murmured, her skin flushed with tiny goosebumps.
“And,” Melania coughed once more. “He wants to talk about coming on-board as a corporate travel sponsor of our events. He’d arrange flights for dignitaries, accommodation in his chain of hotels, that kind of thing.”
The whole entire world was swimming.
It couldn’t, surely, be a coincidence. So what did it mean?
“Would you like me to reschedule him until you feel better?” She asked hopefully without meeting Melania’s eyes.
“No!” She shook her head. “Lord, no. I need you to meet him. I can’t possibly. Not like this.” As if to prove her point she coughed again, this time having to pause midway through to blow her nose. “And we don’t want him to get away.”
“No,” Saphire agreed, her fingers fidgeting with her notebook. I used to love him. The words hovered on her tongue but there was no way she’d confess to the fact. After all, Mel was trusting her with an important opportunity for the organization and Saphire didn’t want to stuff it up.
“I’ll call him,” she said, her heart dropping. “I’ll arrange everything.”
“Remember,” Mel said, leaning forward, “they can always be squeezed for more. Don’t let him go without getting everything you possibly can from him.”
Saphire lifted her fingers to her forehead in a mock salute. Her smile was grim. Everything she wanted from Thaddeus? Not blooming likely.
“Friday night went well,” Melania said as an afterthought. “That’s our biggest amount ever.”
“Yeah.” Saphire’s eyes widened as she re
called what she’d been meaning to mention to her boss. “Kate did great. Someone bid a huge amount on her.”
“Oh?”
Saphire scanned the figures on her page. “Two hundred thousand euro. It caused quite a stir on the night.”
Melania let out a low whistle. “For Kate?” She laughed. “Well, the girl can type like the wind, I suppose,” she coughed again. “Who bid on her?”
Saphire scanned the page again. “A Benedetto Arnaud. Do you know him?”
Melania was very still for a moment and then she nodded slowly. “Well, well. That is … interesting.” With a blink to clear her thoughts, she brought her focus back onto the situation at hand. “Make this happen, Saff. I’m counting on you.”
“Of course.”
“And when I’m back at my desk we’ll talk about your role going forward. I want you signed up formally as something more than a temporary administrator.”
“Okay,” Saphire’s heart swelled with pride and pleasure despite the turmoil she was feeling.
She let herself out of Melania’s apartment with a small smile on her lips. It lasted just as long as it took to walk back onto the street and cross over to the temporary offices that had been set up in Rome. There were only four of them manning the space; something more permanent would be arranged in time, but for now, it was as unimpressive as it was cramped.
“Hey guys,” she said without looking at anyone in particular. She bypassed her own little cubicle and stepped into Mel’s office, clicking the door closed behind her.
His email was crumpled in her hand. She unfolded it and scanned it slowly now that she was at liberty to dwell.
Attention: Ms Melania Brompton.
RE: CORPORATE SPONSORSHIP
I have a sizeable amount earmarked for charitable donations. I am willing to discuss becoming a named sponsor of your events. Call me to discuss.
Thaddeus Konstanides.
It was so like him.
No ‘please’. No small talk. Just pure fact. Business.
And yet he’d made the offer.
And it was her charity.
Rocco must have told him.
So what did it mean?
With fingers that shook slightly, she dialed the number he’d included at the bottom of his email.