Chapter Thirteen
Sophie
After days without sleeping, last night, having received Carlo’s late voice message, I finally relaxed enough to get a few hours of rest. This morning, I’m feeling better, if not a little anxious.
Carlo promised yesterday he’d try to get Spencer to come home with him, but he gave him a get-out clause by saying he wasn’t aware of my husband’s schedule.
Now that I have access to the network and his diary, I can see Spencer has a meeting at the office with someone called Branston at eleven o’clock, I’m also pleased to see he has a note of Lily’s birthday party. Hope bubbles in my gut.
If Spencer doesn’t make it, Lily will be so upset, but I’ve made no promises that he will, explaining how busy her Daddy is.
I haven’t even told her that Uncle Carlo is coming today, for fear of his plans changing.
I chose my outfit carefully this morning, hoping to choose something to make me irresistible to Spencer—if he arrives—without looking too tarty to the other mothers.
I ended up with a pale blue fitted Ralph Lauren linen dress that I hadn’t worn for years.
It’s casual and classic but fits really well and shows my curves to perfection.
This morning’s search through my wardrobe made me realize how many of the clothes I use most regularly are Mumsie and frumpy. Perhaps it’s time for an upgrade.
Once I’m in the right underwear, my girls are boosted just the right amount, providing onlookers with an eyeful without being too slutty.
Because I’ve lost my appetite over the last few weeks, my weight has dropped like a stone. My arms look a little scrawny but aside from that, my dress helps to conceal my new skinny form well. A navy cardi will help to conceal my ugly arms.
After greeting the delivery men with Lily’s bouncy castle, I left them to set up and went inside to prepare the party food.
An overly excited Lily stands at the patio doors, watching the men setting up her castle, and giving me a running commentary.
She’s cute, and bright as a button. Hence her father’s nickname for her, Button.
Her friends are due to arrive around two o’clock, giving me all morning to get things organized. I’ve catered some of the food, but because it’s her first proper party, and there’s such social pressure from a few of the more judgmental mothers at the school, I’m preparing certain things myself.
The birthday cake, which is shaped like Belle, her favorite Disney princess, should arrive around midday.
After fifteen minutes, Lily’s excitement calms. She wanders over to see what I’m doing but quickly loses interest in that, before sloping off into the den to play with her toys, leaving me to get lost in my tasks.
I’m knee-deep in raw vegetables and hummus, trying to arrange them creatively, hoping to appeal to young children when a muscular arm grabs me around the waist, making me squeal.
Glancing down, I recognize the thick, veiny forearm covered in dark hair as being Carlo’s instantly.
“Jesus! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” My hand goes to my chest.
He kisses my cheek and whispers, “Buongiorno, Bella.”
Lily joins us, jumping up and down, clapping her hands and laughing—clearly in on the surprise.
“Carlo,” I yell, slapping him on the arm.
“What’s wrong, Bella?” he replies with a face-splitting grin.
It’s a relief to see him more relaxed than he was yesterday.
He moves away from me to pick up Lily, twirling her around like a spinning top.
“Uncle Carlo, that was funny,” she squeals excitedly.
“Hello, you must be my birthday Princessa! Mummy told me you were having a party. Can I come?” he asks in a silly voice.
“No,” she shouts, with a huge grin, playing along. “No boys allowed.”
Her high-pitched screech cuts through me.
“Calm down, Lily,” I say, in my deep, motherly tone, which they both ignore.
“No boys? But I can be your prince,” he explains. “Your prince should accompany you to the ball.”
“I don’t need a boy to take me to a party; I have my girlfriends,” she sasses back, making me smile. At three, she’s already showing signs of being a strong woman. I love that for her.
Carlo catches my eye and rolls his eyes with a huge grin.
“Anyway, you’d have to be the beast,” she shouts, to steal the focus back to her.
His response is to hold her tight and tickle her ribs. She giggles and thrashes her body.
“Stop!” she hollers.
“Not until you say I can come to your party,” he replies gleefully.
I lean back on the counter, watching them, with a smile on my face.
Lily adores Carlo; he’s been a big part of her life.
Whenever he’s in England, he always makes a point of seeing Lily, even if he can only spare a couple of hours.
Carlo is Lily’s godfather and guardian. He’s the only person in the world that Spencer would trust his little girl with.
“Yes,” she squeals, giggling, “yes, okay, you can come.” She finally yells, and I watch her fighting to gasp for breath while laughing so hard.
He kisses her cheek before placing her down, and she immediately runs to me, as if she thinks I can protect her. Glancing down fondly, I smooth her now messy hair back from her sweaty face.
“Reporting for work, boss. What can I do to help?” he asks flippantly, rolling his sleeve back up.
I don’t miss his sexy forearms, and typically for him, he doesn’t miss my admiration either. When our gazes clash, he bobs his eyebrows, forcing me to grin. He’s a cocky bastard; he knows how gorgeous he is.
“I’m just about to throw together some lunch; you could give me a hand with that,” I suggest.
“No. Come play on my bouncy castle,” Lily whines, finding her confidence again and grasping her uncle’s hand to pull him outside.
“Santo Cielo! It’s huge! Did you get planning permission for that thing?” Carlo teases, peering out at the monstrosity in the garden.
“Yeah, Spencer told me to get the biggest one,” I explain.
“Sounds like Spence,” he says with a fond grin. “How many little rug-rats are coming?”
“Twenty, with their mothers.”
That gets his full attention, no doubt at the thought of a house full of women.
“Any single?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t suggest you go anywhere near her.”
“Why? Do you think she’ll be too much for me?” he probes sarcastically.
We’re both aware he’s a lot to cope with, and that was before he got his piercings.
Bored with our conversation, Lily slopes off toward the TV.
I roll my eyes at him and move over to the fridge to examine the contents and decide what to cook for us.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I say. “I’d be more concerned that you’d never get rid of her. Especially if she learns how wealthy you are.”
When he doesn’t respond, I turn to look at him and catch his heated stare checking me out.
“Did you have fun last night?” I ask tentatively.
I’m dying to know if he has any news but equally aware of how inappropriate my question is.
“It was fucking amazing,” he murmurs quietly enough that Lily can’t hear.
“Uncle Carlo,” Lily calls from the den, gradually approaching us.
“Yes, Princessa.”
“When is my daddy coming home?” she asks, standing before him with her head tilted. Her pose reminds me so much of her father and makes my stomach clench.
“I’m not sure, honey.” He crouches down before her. “I’m sure he’ll make it back before you go to bed, though.”
She looks out at the castle. “I want to show him my princess’s castle.”
My eyes burn with the emotion of her words. She’s speaking to the right person. After being virtually abandoned by his parents at six years old, Carlo knows how it feels to celebrate special occasions without family.
“I know, Princessa, I’m sure we’ll see him this weekend. Okay?” he asks, in the usual gentle manner he adopts when he speaks to her. She bobs her head and steps forward, putting her arms around his neck.
“Thank you for coming to my party. I love you, Uncle Carlo.”
“I love you more, Princessa.”
“I love you most,” she says, through a big smile, quoting one of her favorite lines from another Disney classic.
Forcing the corners of my mouth up into a smile, I swallow down the lump in my throat as I turn to prepare a salad for lunch.
“What do you need me to do, Bella?” Carlo asks, once Lily’s gone back to the couch.
“I’m under control here, but Lily would love a playmate?” I glance over my shoulder; “Lunch will be ready in half an hour.”
While I’m organizing some food, I can hear the two of them bouncing and laughing. It’s nice to hear such happy, relaxed sounds. We haven’t heard them in this house for a while.
After our meal, I place my knife and fork down on my plate and glance at the clock. It’s almost one, and Lily’s cake hasn’t arrived.
I gasp.
“What’s wrong, Bella?” Carlo asks.
I peer down at Lily’s plate. She’s almost finished eating. Now she’s just pushing the small pieces of tomato around her plate. Our daughter has never been fond of fresh tomatoes, but I’m sure today getting her to eat them won’t be hard.
“I’ve just seen the time. Your friends are going to be here soon, Lily. We’d better get you washed and in your party dress.”
She peers up at me, the excitement popping in her eyes. I nod down at her plate, and she instantly scoops the food off her plate, pushing them both in her mouth together.
I frown; she knows better than to stuff too much into her mouth at once.
The moment she’s finished chewing, she swallows and says, “Thank you for lunch, Mummy; it was very nice. Please may I get down now?”
I smile. She’s so cute when she wants to be.
“Yes, baby.” I lean over and pick up her plate. “Can you go wash your face and hands? I’ll come up and help you with your dress in five minutes.”
She pushes her chair back, running toward the stairs.
“No running in the house,” I call after her.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I turn to Carlo.
“We have a problem,” I announce.
“Tell me.”
“Her cake was supposed to be delivered at 12. It’s an hour late.” I pull my phone from my pocket and call the bakery.
Carlo clears the table while I chat to them. They explain that their delivery driver has called in sick and left them in the lurch. They are trying to catch up with the orders but are running late.
The woman I spoke to was very apologetic and sounded harassed.
“If I send someone over to collect it, will that be okay?”
“Let me just make sure your order is still here,” she says.
I glance up at Carlo; he must see my stress.
“Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out,” he murmurs.
“Hello, Mrs. Barton-Jones?”
“Yes,” I reply hopefully.
“It’s right here.”
“Oh, thank goodness. My friend, Carlo Moretti, is going to collect it,” I say, looking up at him with a question on my face.
He nods.
“No problem. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll throw in some cupcakes as a gesture of goodwill.”
I end the call and turn to my friend.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
He moves toward me, grabbing my jaw gently as he raises my face to his, before dropping a kiss on my lips.
“You know I’ll always do anything for you; you don’t even have to ask.”
He strides to the door, grabbing my car keys enroute.
“Text me the address; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”