Chapter 20
HARPER
Benjamin is waiting when I exit my apartment building.
“Good morning, Ms Feldmann,” he says, holding open the door to Sophia’s Bentley.
“Good morning, Benjamin, lovely to see you again.”
“You too.”
I slide into the back seat and wait while he closes the door.
Sophia’s invitation to join her for lunch came out of the blue.
Yesterday was a long day. After collecting Alex’s suit from the dry cleaners and then working late into the evening, I didn’t have the mental capacity to come up with an excuse, so here I am, in her car, with her driver, heading out to her home.
“How’s it going?” Benjamin asks.
I look up, surprised. The previous few times he’s driven me, we’ve sat in silence.
“It’s been… crazy. I’m on a steep learning curve, but it’s fun. It’s keeping me busy and out of mischief,” I say with a smile.
“That’s good.”
“How about you? How long have you worked for the Bianchis?”
“About thirty years. Since Mrs Bianchi moved to the US and took over as CEO from her father.”
My eyes pop. “That’s a long time,” I say, although my parents have members of staff who’ve remained loyal for a similar amount of time. Betsy has run the kitchen since before I was born.
“They’re a good family. My wife works at the house, and Mrs Bianchi has supported my boys through university.”
Am I surprised? Not really. The woman has gone out of her way to assist an old friend’s daughter in her hour of need.
Benjamin and I talk all the way. He tells me about his sons, their wives and the grandchild due in the next couple of months. He tells me about the area, filling me in on its famous residents. The journey flies by, and before I know it, we’re pulling into the Bianchi driveway.
He opens the door for me, allowing me to climb out. The front door opens, and Sophia’s housekeeper is waiting.
“Mrs Bianchi is waiting for you in the sunroom. Can I take your jacket?”
“Thank you,” I say, shrugging out of my coat.
I follow her through the house. My mind returns to my first weeks in America when Sophia helped drill the details of my new life into me until answering questions became second nature.
“Brooke,” Sophia says, getting up and walking towards me, pulling me in for her usual hug.
“Sophia,” I say. “Thank you for the invitation. It’s lovely to see you.”
She smiles. “I assumed you could do with a day out of your apartment. Working is one thing, but too many days staring at the same four walls is enough to drive anyone stir crazy.”
She isn’t wrong.
Although I’m amazed at how readily she accepts that I’ve been following the rules she set out.
Is she spying on me?
Or does she know that every time I think about venturing out, I just think of The Seamstress and Sir Leonard, and those thoughts alone are enough to keep my arse planted firmly on the sofa.
“How have you been?” she asks.
“The past few weekends haven’t been too bad. I’ve kept myself busy with work. I spent the first weekend catching up on the things I needed to learn, and I took up baking.”
The lemon drizzle cake went down a storm. I now have requests for a variety of different baked goods.
“Last weekend I set about reorganising my wardrobe, and I ordered some callisthenics equipment online which was delivered a couple of days ago, so I can now work out at home.”
“You don’t use the gym at St Clair?”
I shake my head. I’ve never enjoyed working out with a full face of makeup.
“I’m not comfortable using it,” I say.
Sophia nods.
“I’ve had Elaine prepare us some lunch. You can tell me how it’s going at St Clair. I hope Sandro is treating you well.”
I freeze.
Please don’t tell me she wants me to spy for her.
I’m grateful she helped get me a job, but Alex is my boss, and we’re finally developing a stable working relationship.
Sophia laughs as if reading my mind. “The look on your face. I’ve no intention of asking you to spill company secrets. I trust my son and the way he runs the company. I simply want to know how you’re doing since Callie left. I’m sure it’s been intense.”
My shoulders relax, and I smile back.
“It has, but I’m loving the challenge. Everyone has been incredibly welcoming. Organising Callie’s party helped me meet a lot of people.” It seems like a lifetime ago now.
Sophia’s smile freezes. “There’ve been no issues? No fallout? I saw how much attention you were receiving that night. You made yourself quite visible.” My hackles rise. It’s not as if any of this is my fault. Her bloody son asked me to organise the party. I couldn’t exactly say no.
I shake my head. “None. I was petrified when Alessandro first set me the task, but Harvey did an amazing job with my hair, and as you said, my makeup has contoured my face. I sometimes even fail to recognise myself.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders loosens, and she smiles. This time, it reaches her eyes.
“I’m pleased to hear it. I was worried when Sandro told me what he’d asked you to do. I must admit, young lady, that was one hell of a send-off you organised. But somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Your mother always knew how to throw the best of parties.”
It’s my turn to smile at her mention of my mother.
“She did, does. She taught me everything I know.”
I laugh.
“Mum never said how you two know one another,” I say, unsure whether Sophia will be happy to share.
“We were at school together… good friends,” she says with a hint of a smile. “What feels like a lifetime ago.”
“She’s pretty awesome,” I say, my stomach clenching.
I’d like nothing more than one of my mother’s hugs right now, telling me everything is going to be okay.
Elaine appears. “Are you ready for lunch now, Mrs Bianchi?”
Sophia looks at me, and I shrug with a smile.
“That would be lovely, Elaine.”
She disappears, then reappears with several young women, all carrying large salad plates, which they place on the table.
“Thank you, ladies, that will be all.”
They disappear without another word, and we take our seats.
“This looks amazing,” I say, placing a napkin on my lap.
“Sandro said you had a run-in with a film crew yesterday outside the office.”
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. Is this why I’ve been invited to lunch?
I put my fork down, shrinking slightly under Sophia’s gaze.
“He asked me to collect his suit for the charity event he was attending last night.”
“I know. He told me. What on earth were you thinking?”
I place my hands in my lap.
Is this a trick question?
Looking up, I meet her gaze. “I was thinking that my boss had asked me to collect his suit from the dry cleaners.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t exactly say, sorry, no can do. I can just see his face now.” I frown at Sophia. “I work for him. He’s my boss. What he says goes.”
Sophia tuts, shaking her head.
“That’s what I thought. Brooke, as Sandro’s PA, you have the power to delegate. You could have called downstairs and asked one of the gofers to collect it. It did not need to be you personally.”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times before inclining my head.
“I can do that?”
Sophia chuckles. “As Sandro’s PA, darling, you can do a lot of things. But that’s not why I’ve raised it. You need to be more careful. That could have been a disaster. Imagine if they hadn’t asked and simply filmed you instead.”
My stomach flips at the thought. “I know.” I sigh. “I was awake half the night thinking about it.”
“You dropped the ball.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My son is perceptive. Your response did not match the level of concern he was expecting.”
I know I was shaken when I got back to the office, probably more than a little. I’d nearly spilt my water twice just by lifting the cup. Had he noticed?
Shit!
“When did he tell you this?”
“Last night at the charity gala we attended. My son values honesty, directness and authenticity. With him, what you see is what you get. If he finds out about any of this, it could cause problems between us, and I will not stand for that. I’ve put my neck on the line to help you.
Do you understand? If it’s a choice between you and my son… ”
I nod.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry. I promise to be more careful in future.”
She nods before picking up her knife and fork. “Make sure you are. You must stay out of the public domain. As I explained before, St Clair is a safe space. Cabs everywhere, no more strolls around the block. No nights out. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” I say.
I force food into my mouth, my appetite now gone.
Is she kidding me?
She gets me a job that involves me facing people every day, has not shared my enormous secret with her son, my boss, and announces it’s a huge problem if he does find out, but chastises me when he puts me in a vulnerable position that could expose this whole damn shit show.
Don’t worry, Harper, it seems you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t!
We eat the rest of our lunch in silence. I now understand why I was invited.
Lunch with the perfect side of a dressing-down.
Does she have any idea how hard this is for me? Has she even thought about it from my perspective? But then she probably just sees Francesca Frazer’s youngest daughter, the rebel and delinquent. Again, my own fault.
I’ll stay hidden, despite slowly going stir-crazy.
As someone who has always been socially driven, sitting at home alone with no friends to turn to is driving me insane.
But thanks for the nugget of wisdom about my position as PA.
It would have saved me several hours of extra work last night after everyone had gone home if I’d known I could simply call downstairs.
As if sensing she’s pushed me as far as she can, Sophia moves on to more neutral topics, and before I know it, Benjamin has arrived to return me to my apartment.
“Thank you for lunch, Sophia,” I say, returning her hug.
I need to reset. I made a mistake, not one I’ll repeat. The worst part is that I now have additional pressure. Alex cannot find out who I really am. I owe Sophia a lot. She offered me refuge when I needed it most. I can’t let her down.
“Take care,” Sophia says. “And remember what I’ve said.”
I step away only to feel her hand on my arm. “It won’t be forever.” Her voice has softened.
I press my lips together and nod, only to find myself pulled in for another hug.
“I just want to keep you safe. I’m not trying to be difficult,” she whispers against my ear.
I pull back, meeting her gaze. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
Her hand comes up and pats my cheek.
“Safe trip back,” she says, stepping away.
Benjamin is waiting by the car.
“Good lunch, Miss?”
“Lovely, thank you, Benjamin,” I say, getting in.
He catches my eye in the mirror. “Would you like me to put on the radio, or would you prefer silence?”
I offer him a weak smile. “The radio would be lovely, thank you.”
He smiles and switches on one of the local channels. One of Caleb’s favourite songs is playing.
I send him a message.
ME:
Hey.
CALEB:
Hey, you. How are you doing?
ME:
I’m okay, tired. Sorry if I’ve disturbed your evening.
CALEB:
No, the boys are all around. It’s poker night.
Don’t worry, I’ve told them it’s a business call.
ME:
I hate we have to lie to everyone.
CALEB:
It’s not going to be forever. You sure you’re okay?
Caleb has always been perceptive when it comes to the feelings of others.
ME:
It’s been a busy week.
CALEB:
Real work can be a shock to the system.
He follows his message with a whole host of laughing emojis.
ME:
Haha.
Been to lunch with Sophia and I’m heading home. Going to put my feet up and catch up on Buffy reruns.
CALEB:
Enjoy. We miss you.
ME:
Miss you too. Love to April.
I put my phone in my bag.
The silence has become deafening, but the radio is soothing.
I should be grateful, but the isolation is taking its toll since Callie left. No one to really talk to. Kat is heading to the Maldives, and I don’t want to worry Mum with my woes.
I brought this on myself.
I stare out of the window and listen to the endless stream of adverts. Local concerts I can’t attend. Insurance companies I don’t need. Teeth aligners promising me a million-dollar smile…Night school.
Unlock your potential with evening classes designed for busy adults. If you want to develop new skills or change careers, our flexible night school programmes could be the answer. Register today for upcoming classes!
My muscles begin to uncurl as my heart rate picks up.
Could I?
It’s a risk.
I sink back into the seat, possibilities whirling through my brain.