Chapter Nine #2
‘How about we have a shower together? Then we can have breakfast in bed, and you can show me what you like, and we can take it from there.’
His irises are so big that I feel as if I am drowning again.
After our shower, and despite what we agreed, when I suggest going downstairs to get some breakfast Renzo pulls me back to bed and we finally have brunch at nearly noon.
After brunch we lounge by the pool. Or rather, I lounge. Renzo swims lengths until I join him in the water, and we end up getting close to playing a bit more show and tell, so we have to leave and go back to the bedroom.
‘We might have missed lunch,’ I say as we lie in bed, watching the rippling, aquamarine sea. ‘Do you think Paola will mind?’
Renzo reaches out and touches my hip and I feel my body rippling to life again. ‘I think she’ll be too astonished to mind.’
It’s strange, because I am the one who was stymied by my body, but Renzo seems looser too; that tautness in his muscles seems ironed out.
‘Why will she be astonished?’
‘Because I’ve probably never missed a meal before.’ He frowns. ‘My life is pretty regimented. You know—boring.’
He rolls his eyes like a teenager, and I laugh because this is a Renzo I didn’t know existed. ‘I’m going to have to disagree with you. I’m pretty sure most people think the octopus is an eight-legged sea creature, not a position in the Kama Sutra.’
I shiver with pleasure as he reaches out to lift my hair from my breast, covering it instead with the palm of his hand. ‘You liked that, didn’t you?’
He gently pinches my nipple, and my body instantly starts to feel liquid and hot, boneless.
‘I did. But I might need a bit of practice.’
We practise. Then we have a very late lunch, or perhaps an early supper, and afterwards we check our messages but there is nothing from Charlie or Jade.
I take a sneaky peak at the headlines but there aren’t any updates.
In fact, thanks to an A-list couple splitting acrimoniously, the story has been relegated to an inside page for the first time since the news broke.
‘Anything to report?’
Renzo’s voice pulls me back into the present and I meet his gaze. That he cares is the best drug on the planet, and I am addicted. Bad analogy, but it feels good to know that he is watching over me.
‘Just one from Carrie. What about you?’ I glance at Renzo and feel my stomach lurch. ‘What is it?’
He is holding up his phone, listening intently. ‘It’s a voicemail from Noah Barker.’
‘The Australian media tycoon? What does he want?’
‘Apparently, he’s ready to talk about selling his business and he wants to set up a meeting.’
‘He owns LNC, doesn’t he?’ The newest American news network was initially derided as an upstart funded by an Australian interloper, but in the last year it has started to become a serious rival to the more established networks.
Renzo nods. His blue eyes are blazing. ‘He suggests meeting in Scotland. Apparently, he’s playing in some golf tournament. Which is fortuitous, because I recently bought a castle there.’
Did he? I’m curious to find out more but his face is stiff with concentration, and I know he is checking all the plates spinning inside his head. Because that’s what he does. He makes sure nothing comes crashing to the ground.
I feel a slight ache in my chest, but I push it away.
This whole set-up—the villa, the soft sunlight filtering through the shutters, the sudden and miraculous synchronicity of my body, my desire and his desire, but most of all Renzo himself—is irresistible.
He’s irresistible but I know it’s temporary, finite.
A one-of-a-kind cocktail of proximity, history and holiday vibes.
Clearing my throat, I say lightly, ‘Can you fit him in?’
He nods. ‘Gerry will have to move a couple of meetings.’ His eyes find mine. ‘So, what do you think?’
‘I think it’s some kind of super-power, the way you make admin so sexy.’
‘I mean, what do you think about going to Scotland? We could drop in on the way back to New York. If Barker does business like he does phone calls, it’ll be a short, sweet meeting, so there’ll be plenty of time for me to show you round the estate.’
I am stunned by his invitation. ‘I don’t want to get in the way.’
His beautiful face creases into a different kind of smile. I am becoming a private collector. ‘I own a castle. How could you be in the way? Besides, I’d value your opinion.’
His words, the truth of them, make me glance away. For so long, I’ve felt as though I haven’t earned my place in the world, but now I am. And I know it’s stupid, but I wish my grandmother were here to see it. I wish Charlie was too.
I look up to find Renzo staring down at me; his blue eyes travel over my face, seeing everything.
‘Try not to worry.’ He takes my hand. ‘Charlie looks after number one.’
I nod slowly. ‘That’s one of the things he always says to me—that and “play stupid”. “Don’t look back” is another. And he seems to have forgotten me, so maybe that’s his favourite.’
I try to smile then, but I can tell from the way Renzo’s jaw tightens that I’m not doing a very good job.
‘Do you want to hear some good news? JVHM have signed up. Apparently, Monsieur Pinault was impressed by our pitch. Your pitch, I should say.’
I don’t even try to hide my pleasure at Renzo’s words. ‘He’s a nice man.’
‘He’s a good businessman,’ he qualifies, but there is no bite to his words. ‘And you are a good businesswoman.’ He taps my phone. ‘Are you going to be able to keep off this now?’
‘Maybe.’ It’s been so relaxing, not having that tug of social media. I feel calmer, steady in myself, without the constant chipping away of the Internet. ‘Would you mind holding onto it for just a little longer?’
‘Not at all, and I’ll let you know if anything changes.’ He reaches over and puts my phone in the drawer by the bed.
‘So, what did Carrie want?’
I shrug, remembering her text. ‘Oh, nothing important. She just wanted to remind me that I’ve got my three-year milestone coming up.’
‘Three years! That’s not just important, it’s incredible. You’re incredible. You’re amazing.’ Renzo’s eyes are steady on my face as if he is spellbound. ‘What happens—do you get another chip?’
‘If I want one.’
‘Don’t you?’ He frowns.
‘Kind of.’ Catching sight of his face, I shake my head. ‘It’s complicated. Since I went sober, I try to do one day at a time. But, when I reach a milestone, I suddenly realise how far I’ve come.’
‘Isn’t that a good thing?’
‘Yes, but it’s also a lot of pressure, and I worry I won’t be able to handle it. And if I mess up it’ll be so much further to fall.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Won’t it?’ There is a twist in my throat. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve given up.’
This is news to Renzo, but he doesn’t look shocked or appalled. It is more as if he is processing my words and their implication.
‘How long did you manage then?’
‘Not long. Months, maybe. But I was doing it on my own and it was so hard. Or maybe I was too weak.’
‘You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I know. Look at everything you’ve had to deal with. Your father is on the run. The FBI are on your case. And in the middle of all that you’ve had to take over the running of a huge global business.’
‘Co-running,’ I say softly.
‘Maybe in New York. In Milan, I was just your backing singer.’ He leans in and nips my shoulder. ‘Most people in your position would have crumbled or walked away. But you’re not hiding like Charlie. You were in Milan doing your job, hosting a party that the world is talking about.’
‘But I’m still a person in recovery.’
‘Yes, you are. But those other times you didn’t have the support you needed. This is different. You have a sponsor.’
‘Yes, I have Carrie.’
Renzo’s eyes are steady and such a dark blue that I feel as if I am staring into space and that he has the answers to all the universe’s questions.
‘And you have me,’ he says slowly. ‘You don’t need to be scared any more, Hennessy. I’ve got this.’
For a moment we just stare at one another and then he reaches to pick up his phone. ‘Is there a specific day when you’re supposed to get your chip?’
I hear his question, but I can’t answer, because I have just realised something incredible, something fundamental, and it robs me of the ability to speak.
I can’t understand why I didn’t see it sooner.
But I can’t not see it now, because it is filling me with light.
I can feel it illuminating every cell of my body.
I love him. I love Renzo.
I’ve felt so alone, so adrift, my whole life.
Everything has always been so tangled and hard, and this last week should have been the perfect storm of chaos, pressure and panic.
But Renzo walked into the storm to find me.
And he stayed with me while it howled and raged—a solid presence shielding me, keeping me centred, safe.
He did that. He’s still doing it now and it is all so astonishing, new and right. I want to tell him what I’m feeling, to shout it from the rooftops and whisper it into his ear, but I don’t want to get it wrong. To go in too fast, too strong. Maybe Scotland will be the right time.
With an effort, I gather my thoughts. ‘Carrie is suggesting Friday. So, a week from today.’
‘Done.’ He taps his phone screen. ‘I’ve got it in my diary. We’ll go to Scotland and be back in New York for your meeting.’
‘It’s in your diary?’ My brain skips over his words again. ‘You’re going to come with me?’
‘Unless you don’t want me to.’
‘No, I do. I’d love that. But don’t feel like you have to.’
‘Of course I have to. You’re my co-CEO. I’ve got a vested interest in your wellbeing.’
Renzo
That’s not the only reason I want to be there for her. She has worked so hard this week. And she really cares. About the business, about the staff. She cares about Charlie, although God knows why. He might be her father, but he is unworthy of the title.