Chapter 10 #2
“Why not?” Repeated coughing had weakened Mel’s voice. “You’ve been faffing around doing volunteer work for years. Now you’ve finally accepted a paid role and it’s way below your skillset. Why?”
“I don’t think it is way below my skillset,” she demurred frankly. “And this is not the time to be talking about it. You need to rest your voice.”
“See? You’re even bossing me around,” Melania pointed out teasingly. “We will talk about this in a few days. I want you on board permanently. I have a knack for knowing which people are right for my business. And I know I need you. Think about it.”
Saphire bit down on her lip. “I will.”
“I have my personal assistant lined up to take my place in the auction tonight. Have you met Kate?”
Saphire nodded, frowning. She had a vague recollection of a softly spoken blonde with pale skin and enormous blue eyes. “She seems sort of quiet …”
“She is sort of quiet,” Melania agreed. “Probably why she agreed to this. Though I’ll admit I didn’t give her much of a chance to say no. Anyway, get her a champagne when she arrives. Poor thing’s a bag of nerves.”
“Right.”
“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 one 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.”