Chapter 16
Thought of the day…
Do not allow anger to fester – find a healthy outlet to express it.
(Shouting at the TV – okay. Hitting a punching bag at the gym – okay. Road rage – very much not okay.)
Tommy prowled around the lounge room like Rum Tum Tugger, turning pacing into an art form. ‘Are you going to sit down?’ he asked, shooting a questioning look over his shoulder.
‘I’d rather stay over here,’ I replied.
If I kept fifteen feet away, I wouldn’t risk accidentally falling onto his cock.
He stopped pacing. ‘Ally.’
‘What’s this new information?’ I asked, steering the conversation away from seating arrangements.
‘I really think you should leave. Tonight, if possible.’
‘Hmm. Technically, that’s not information – in fact, it sounds like a directive and last time I checked, you weren’t in charge of me.’
‘Fair, but—’
‘Just tell me, Tommy.’
‘I know who’s been on the other end of those conversations – Julian’s business partner. He’s someone important – very – and he’s coming here.’
‘Ooh, should I phone the Daily Enquirer?’ I quipped.
Humour was just a protection mechanism. As long as we were bantering, I could avoid feeling, well… feelings.
‘You’re not taking this seriously.’
‘In case you missed it, Tommy, this is a resort. The concept doesn’t really work unless people come. And most of the clientele will be VIPs. Exhibit A,’ I said, pointing at myself with both forefingers.
‘This is different. This person has… questionable motives – and ties.’
‘I’m assuming you don’t mean cravats.’
‘Do you think you could come and sit down?’ he asked impatiently.
So, not in the mood for banter, then.
‘All right.’ I crossed to the nearest sofa and plopped onto it. ‘Now you sit over there,’ I said, indicating the other one.
He sat opposite and looked at me intently, his elbows resting on his knees and fingers steepled. Ironically, we were in the same spots we were last night. Right before the heavy petting.
‘Just tell me. And skip the cryptic clues, will you – this isn’t a crossword.’
‘Do you know who Ivan Kovalec is?’ he asked.
‘Isn’t that the tech billionaire, the one from Eastern Europe?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ivan Kovalec is coming here?’
‘It seems so.’
I’d been joking when I made the comment about the Daily Enquirer, but they probably would’ve wanted the scoop that Kovalec was coming to Aetheria.
‘Hold on, how do you know all this?’
‘Elsa.’
Ah, that’s why she was in Julian’s office – she was snooping.
‘Is snooping something you enjoy doing together? Because most couples choose something a little less espionage-y. You know, like playing pickleball – which is a ridiculous name, by the way – or taking a cooking class.’
Tommy flinched at the cooking-class comment as if I’d said it to wound him. I hadn’t; it had just slipped out.
‘Can we please get back to you leaving Aetheria?’ he asked, his tone softening.
‘I’m not going – well, obviously I will eventually, I’m not moving here or anything. But not today. Or tomorrow. I’m worried that Julian needs me.’
He sat back, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, his foot jiggling like it had a mind of its own.
‘What aren’t you telling?’
His eyes darted away.
‘Jesus, Tommy!’ I snapped. ‘You’re deliberately being evasive while trying to convince me to leave the island. You do realise you’re terrible at this, right?’
I was about to kick him out – this was getting futile – but seconds later, he dropped the evasive act.
‘Go on, ask me anything.’
I blinked at him. Ask me anything.
The thing about parameters is that they make it easier to pinpoint what you want. Take them away, and choice paralysis sets in – like it did when I was offered carte blanche access to Tommy’s thoughts and feelings. And his relationship with Elsa. Where did I even begin?
I searched his eyes. He met my gaze, but his expression gave nothing away. And had he really meant anything, or just the situation with Julian?
Fuck it.
‘When did you and Elsa meet?’
His eyes widened – I’d surprised him. ‘Er…’ His gaze slid to the left as he did the maths. ‘Just over a year ago now.’
‘Where?’
‘At work.’
Yep, like pulling teeth.
‘Engineering work or skipper work?’
He hesitated. ‘It was before this,’ he replied vaguely.
‘So, she’s an engineer too?’ I prodded.
‘No, a communications specialist.’
‘Hah!’ My cynical laugh escaped before I could stop it, echoing through the villa.
The idea of that scowling, monosyllabic woman working in communications was hilarious.
But Tommy clearly didn’t share my amusement.
‘I’m sorry.’ I wasn’t. ‘So,’ I went on, ‘why the left turn – the change of careers? Was it the Sicily job?’
‘Sicily?’
‘Where you learned to sail?’ I prompted, sensing something wasn’t quite right.
‘Oh, right, yes exactly,’ he replied.
‘So? Tell me about it.’
As soon as I prodded him, it was like a switch had flicked, and the tension eased from his face.
‘I was part of a retrofit for the Roman amphitheatre in Catania, and a colleague had a sailboat at the marina. It was a summer-long project, and on weekends he taught me to sail. When it ended, I was on my way to Singapore and had a sort-of epiphany.’
‘An epiphany?’ It wasn’t a word I’d heard Tommy use before.
‘That I’d spent the better part of ten years living and working abroad, but knew next to nothing about the places I’d been to.
Sicily was the first time that life was more than just work, sleep, and repeat.
I owe a lot to my colleague – Mario. Sicilian, about fifty, knows everyone…
Probably more people than you,’ he teased with a smirk.
‘His wife was lovely – Francesca – and they had five kids.’
He grimaced dramatically, and I sniggered. When we were married, we’d talked about having one child, maybe two – but never five.
‘They’d host these incredible lunches – half the town would show up…’ He reminisced fondly, his gaze unfocused. ‘And it was lively and vibrant and oh god, Ally, the food. Francesca is the most amazing cook.’
‘I won’t tell Yiayiá you said that.’
‘Huh?’ he asked, his focus jumping back to me. ‘Oh right, Yiayiá. Please don’t. Older European women can be quite terrifying.’
‘Is that right?’ I asked, amused.
Admittedly, the conversation had got away from me. I’d intended to pin Tommy down and ask the hard-hitting questions but in a matter of minutes, we’d circled back to Yiayiá and the cooking class and us. An in-joke that was barely one day old.
‘A story for another time,’ he said lightly.
Another time… Didn’t he realise that alluding to the future – a shared future – was cruel?
‘Look, all these questions… Can we please get back to Julian?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, yeah – course,’ I replied, even though my insides were coiled tighter than a spring.
‘So, to recap: your girlfriend, who is a communication specialist’ – my fucking arse, she is – ‘has discovered that one of the most famous people in tech is coming here, and somehow this implicates Julian in some sort of nefarious – your word – scheme. Which will inevitably and irrevocably destroy Aetheria as we know it. Have I got that right?’
‘Ally,’ he warned.
‘No,’ I said, pointing a finger at him, now cross. ‘You do not get to Ally me. Because then I get to Tommy you and if you think older European women are scary, you should see just how terrifying I’ve become.’
I don’t use my lower vocal register very often, but when I do, I mean business. Only Tommy started sniggering softly, which should have fuelled my fury but, instead, disarmed it.
‘How do you do that?’ I asked, regarding him through slitted eyes.
‘I know you, Ally.’
Oof. Why don’t you just pommel me with a tin of kippers? Far less painful.
I cleared my throat, acknowledging that Tommy was probably right – we should focus on the situation with Julian and keep well away from the topic of us.
Only…
‘Just one more question and then we can get back to Julian.’
He remained perfectly still, fixing me with his penetrating gaze while he weighed up my request. I figured he probably knew what I was going to ask. If he did, I half expected him to say no. But then again, he had said to ask him anything.
After several excruciating moments of unbroken eye contact, he said, ‘Ask away.’
Immediately, he dropped his eyes and his lips straightened into a line – girding his emotional loins was my best guess.
I inhaled deeply. Here goes everything.
‘What did it mean, what happened here last night?’
He nodded, confirming that he’d expected the question.
‘I don’t know.’
It was a non-answer, but I wasn’t particularly surprised. I didn’t know either.
‘Ah, fuck— that’s… total bullshit. I do know.’ He looked up and we locked eyes. ‘I’ve found it very difficult being around you for the past few days.’
‘It hasn’t seemed like it,’ I interjected.
‘Well, I must be good at hiding it then, because it has. It’s confusing – this. I have no idea what’s going on in here…’ He tapped his head with two fingers. ‘Or here…’ His fingers went to his heart. ‘He seems to have a lot to do with it,’ Tommy added, glancing at his crotch.
‘So, it was just attraction then?’ I ventured.
‘Haven’t you been listening? And it’s never just attraction with you, Ally,’ he replied in a hoarse whisper.
‘Then what? What is it?’
He pressed his lips together, as if afraid of what might escape, and my coiled insides wound even tighter. ‘It’s the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.’
My mouth filled with saliva, and I gulped it down. Oh god, was I about to be sick?
‘That sounds cruel, I know,’ he continued, ‘but it’s the truth. And you being here—’
‘Did you know? That I was coming?’
‘There was talk about an influencer after the actress fell through. But I didn’t put two and two together until you arrived.’
‘Did you know I was once married to Julian? Before he told you, I mean.’
Tommy nodded.
‘You knew? Then why would you accept a job with him? No, why apply for the job in the first place?’
‘Because— It doesn’t matter.’