4. Renata
Chapter 4
Renata
I fidget in my seat and glance at my phone. It’s almost twenty past two, and there’s no sign of Matteo. The cafe is empty, and I’m starting to feel on display, sitting here, waiting. I could call him, but I don’t want to seem desperate. Still, I must leave soon, so we won’t get long together.
The chattering of voices has me looking at the window, and my heart rises, only to fall when I see a group of Matt’s friends, but he isn’t with them. Duncan’s eyes meet mine, but his features remain impassive.
I can’t even wave at them and hope they come in so I can ask where he is, because most of them don’t know about us. We’re a dirty little secret because Matt and me? We could start a war between our families if it gets out that we are dating.
Only a small group of our closest friends know, and they aren’t likely to betray us to our families. Of course, if Nico were to hear about us, that would be really bad. He’d surely tell Mamma and Babbo, if he didn’t try to hurt Matteo himself. I think back to what Matteo said the other day, about Nico proving his loyalty to Babbo, and I know he was right. Nico may only be fifteen, but he’s unhinged. Then again, if he ratted me out to our parents, or even if he’d hurt Matteo, I’d tell them all about him. He’s disgusting. Sick. At fifteen, Nico is a certified manwhore who sleeps with women, actual grown women. But knowing his secrets gives me leverage, and Nico would have to realize we have a case of mutually assured destruction.
My mind flits back to Matteo. Where is he? It was a big step deciding to meet him here, and he blows me off without second thought. Did he get scared about meeting me in a public place? Was he concerned our families would find out about us?
He’s not here, and he’s not with his friends. Maybe an emergency came up? My stomach churns with anxiety, and I pick up my phone. It’s more important to find out he’s okay than to worry about looking desperate. I press his number, and it rings.
After four rings, he answers, and there’s a smile in his voice when he says hello.
“Matt?”
“Yeah?” There’s a moment’s silence, and I hear a girl laughing in the background. Then he sighs. “Oh, shit. Ray, I’m sorry. I totally forgot.”
My heart sinks, and tears fill my eyes. He forgot? He suggested we meet. How the hell did he forget? And he’s using the nickname that I hate. Ray.
“ Who are you talking to, Matty? It’s your turn .”
That was definitely a girl’s voice.
“Where are you?” I demand, sullen anger leaking out of my tone.
“I’m at home. My parents decided to have an afternoon of tennis as it is so nice. I couldn’t get out of it.”
“Well, maybe I should just forget about you, Matteo.” I grit my teeth to fight back the tears that rush to the surface.
He sighs again. “Don’t be that way. I really am sorry, Ray. I’ll make it up to you; next time, promise.”
I huff out an angry breath. “Well, it sounds like there’s plenty of people there. Lots of girls. So you go and have fun. Don’t worry about me.”
I hang up before he can answer.
The text comes a few minutes later, as I wipe the mess of tears from my face.
The only girls here are family friends. It’s a family obligation that I couldn’t get out of, Rennie. You know I’d rather be with you. Sorry I forgot to message you. We’ll raincheck.
I don’t bother sending a reply. I was such an afterthought, so why give him the time? I’m only setting myself up for heartache. I’m so fed up with my shitty life. Matteo is the one bright spark. He’s cautious not to make a mistake that would uncover our secret relationship, but I’m tired of hiding. I leave the cafe and walk home; not even the bright sun or the hungry stares of men old enough to know better are able to make me feel better.
Power is all that matters, I tell myself. I still have it. After all, the one thing I have that I know Matteo wants is my virginity, and that is something he won’t get unless he starts to treat me better.
The next day, there’s a knock at the door, and when my name is called by the maid, I traipse down the stairs, still feeling as if the world is out to get me. “Delivery for a Miss Renata Andretti,” the man at the door says.
“That’s me.”
He grins and hands me the large, shiny bag. It’s full of crinkly paper, and when I look inside, there’s a soft white polar bear with a love heart on its chest. There’s also a box of chocolates and a note.
Sorry that I forgot our meet-up yesterday. -M
I grin to myself as I run to my room. I felt awful after he stood me up yesterday, but now, he’s sent me a gift, and my heart warms at the thoughtfulness.
In a week it’s his eighteenth birthday. He promised once he’s joined the family business officially and has earned his father’s respect, we can be together. How long that will take, no one really knows, and I don’t know if I can hang on much longer. Yesterday, it seemed as if I was nothing to him, but now I think he might feel the same way for me as I do for him.
The week passes in a happy blur. I don’t get to see Matteo, but we do get the chance to talk on the phone one night when both our parents are out.
He hasn’t mentioned his birthday, so I don’t bring it up either. I haven’t heard anything about a party, and I’m not sure if he’ll be having a family meal or something. I have him a gift, though. It’s a line drawing of a classic Ferrari, and it cost me over two hundred pounds to have it drawn to commission. I’m so excited to give it to him. I saved for almost a year.
Finally, as the weekend draws close, I message him.
Hey there, it’s almost your birthday. Are you excited?
It’s just another day, really.
What are your plans to celebrate?
Dinner with family. Nothing special.
Cool. Hopefully we can meet soon. I have a gift for you. X
He replies almost instantly.
Thanks for the gift; you shouldn’t have. We can meet next week.
I sigh. I wanted to see him on his birthday, which is Saturday, but I can’t insist if he has family plans.
Cool. Let me know a time and a place.
* * *
I’m reading, bored, and too hot. It’s a stifling summer day where the humidity in England makes the heat unbearable, unlike in Italy where it’s glorious.
My phone buzzes, and I grab for it, my heart picking up. Maybe Matteo has decided to sneak out and meet me today.
It’s not from him, though, but from Jilly, my best friend and the only person in my circle who knows about Matteo and me.
Hey, are you going to the Mancini party tonight? I know your family would go crazy, but we could go together, and I doubt any of the elder Mancinis would recognize you if you dress different and wear some party clothes. I have an invite. Shall we go? See what your birthday boy is up to?
Party? He’s having a party? The hurt is swift and sharp, tiny nettle-like barbs of pain all over as my skin prickles and burns with shame. Hot, burning shame.
He never mentioned having a party. He said his family were hosting a dinner to celebrate.
I get why I wouldn’t be the guest of honor, but he lied to me. He could have told me the truth, and I’d have accepted it.
Who is going to be there? I text Jilly back. Her family is old money and linked to so much of the social scene here.
Everyone who is someone.
I know she doesn’t mean it the way I take it, but that statement cuts me a little deeper. I am someone. I’m a damned Andretti.
I’ll get ready and meet you at the coffee shop on the corner. I’ll tell Mamma we are studying. Tell yours the same.
She sends a xx back, which means yes in our code, and I fall back on the bed, my stomach churning.
Why wouldn’t he just admit he couldn’t invite me? Instead of lying about having a party?
Hopefully, he won’t be mad when he sees me there, but if he is, then I’ll know he’s ashamed to be with me, and I don’t think my heart is prepared to take that right now.
He needs to grovel, I decide, as I hug my pillow to me.
Yes, Matteo Mancini needs to earn my forgiveness.