12. February 2024
12
February 2024
W illow received a phone call at noon on Friday from a private number. She assumed it would be Vaughn calling about dinner, but it was his driver, Finn, asking what time she would be ready.
‘I’ll be outside at 5:30 p.m.’
‘Okay,’ Finn said on the other end of the line. ‘I’ll be waiting out front.’
Willow hesitated before asking. ‘Will Mr Gallo be with you?’
‘He’ll be waiting for you at the house.’
‘Oh.’ That was weirdly disappointing. ‘Okay, thanks.’
After ending the call, Willow headed to the studio to warm up.
Harrison spent most of the afternoon working one-on-one with Willow, refining her solo variation, scrutinising every movement and position, right down to the angle of every finger. She couldn’t recall him ever pushing another dancer that hard and didn’t know what to make of it. Either she was falling short in some way, or he simply wanted her to blow everyone away with her performance. She really hoped it was the latter. By the end of the session, she could barely lift her arms above her head.
‘You look thoroughly exhausted,’ he commented at the end of their session. ‘I suggest you go straight home, hydrate, and get plenty of rest.’
She eyed him as she towelled off. ‘You know I have that dinner.’
He rested his hands on his hips. ‘You’re not still going through with that, are you?’
The question had her wondering if the strenuous session she’d just endured had been intentionally designed to wear her out and render her useless for the evening. Normally, she wouldn’t have entertained the idea, but Vaughn’s warning came to mind.
‘Just be careful.’
‘It would be rude to cancel now,’ she pointed out.
He shook his head and said in a disappointed tone, ‘Honestly, I thought you were smarter than this.’
She licked sweat from her lips. ‘Nigel trusts him.’
Harrison tutted. ‘Nigel doesn’t have a choice. It’s trust him or close the doors. You, on the other hand, definitely have a choice.’
She bent to pick up her water bottle and took a drink before towelling off again. ‘I’m late. I’ll see you Monday.’
He crossed his arms. ‘Remember, you need proper sleep.’
She fled the studio before he could guilt her any further.
The change rooms were empty. Everyone else had already gone home. She showered quickly and put on a body suit, some printed pants that didn’t require ironing, flats, and whatever make-up she could manage in two minutes before heading outside.
It was 6:05 p.m.
She was late.
Finn had the Mercedes double-parked. He was leaning against the vehicle, eyes on the door.
‘Sorry,’ she said, jogging over as best she could on legs resembling jelly. ‘You could have parked somewhere legal and texted me your location.’
Finn opened the back door for her. ‘Evening, Miss Hayes.’ Clearly he wasn’t even going to entertain her suggestion.
She climbed in, keeping a firm grip on her gym bag.
‘Do you want that in the boot?’ Finn asked.
She placed the bag between her feet. ‘No, it’s fine. Thanks.’ Once Finn was in the driver’s seat, she asked, ‘So, where are we going?’
‘Toorak.’
Not entirely surprising. The suburb was synonymous with wealth and privilege, having some of the highest average property values in Melbourne.
They drove in easy silence, Willow eventually relaxing into the journey despite the fact that she was being driven around by a man she barely knew. If Vaughn trusted him to collect her alone, that was good enough for her. She hoped that wasn’t naive on her part.
As they entered the leafy suburb, Willow took in the palatial homes and manicured gardens. They looked like they were straight out of a magazine spread.
The sun was low in the sky when the car slowed and the indicator signalled left. Finn stopped at a set of iron gates and punched in a code. The gates swung open, and they drove into a turning circle, stopping in front of a two-storey rendered house with a tennis court beside it. Willow stared up at it while Finn walked around to get her door. Picking up her bag, she exited the car.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
He nodded before returning to the driver’s side.
The front door to the house opened, and Vaughn stepped outside, stopping beneath the portico. He was wearing a pale green shirt rolled to the elbows and tailored trousers. It was casual for him. He leaned against one of the giant pillars propping the veranda up and watched her walk up the path towards him.
‘Let me take that,’ he said, reaching for her bag.
‘It’s pretty gross,’ she warned.
He took it anyway.
‘Don’t… smell it.’ She clamped her mouth shut, realising that was a ridiculous thing to say.
Vaughn’s lips turned up. ‘I’ll try to resist the urge.’ He gestured to the door. ‘After you.’
As Willow entered the house, she was taken aback by the sheer grandiosity. The foyer had high ceilings and decorative architecture in white and gold.
‘There she is,’ Paula said, appearing with a big smile. She kissed Willow’s cheek. ‘Don’t you look lovely?’
Her warmth made Willow miss her own mother, who would have been notably overwhelmed and awkward in such a setting. ‘Your home is beautiful.’
‘Thank you, love. Come, I’ll take you on a quick tour.’ When Vaughn went to say something, she added, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring her straight back.’
As she was led away, Willow looked over her shoulder and caught Vaughn’s concerned expression. She offered him a reassuring smile before turning her attention back to her guide.
‘Let’s start downstairs,’ Paula said. ‘I love to show off my laundry.’
It soon became clear why. The laundry had custom-built cabinetry, a stone benchtop, an ironing station, and the most impressive thing: a washing basket rest beneath the appliances. The room was as large as Willow’s whole apartment.
She followed Paula slowly through the house, admiring the upholstered furniture, plush rugs, and priceless artwork. When they went upstairs, she stood in awe of the living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked over the back garden, which included a vibrant green lawn, endless garden beds, neatly trimmed hedges, and a winding pathway through it all. There were bench seats placed throughout and a large pond in the middle that reflected the setting sun.
‘It’s breathtaking,’ Willow remarked.
Paula stepped up beside her, looking out. ‘Salvatore’s mother did most of the work before she left us. Now, I do the best I can not to kill her vision.’
Willow smiled and folded her arms in front of her. ‘And both your sons still live at home?’
‘This will always be their home, but they both have apartments in the CBD.’ She paused. ‘Though Vaughn has been known to sleep at his various workplaces.’
‘Can’t say I’m overly surprised by that revelation.’
Paula fixed the tuck of her blouse. ‘He really disappeared last year after the trial.’ Her brow creased with concern. ‘I was worried about him for a while there.’
Willow wasn’t sure what to say without prying. ‘That must have been a difficult time for all of you.’
Paula waved away the sympathy. ‘The important thing is that he’s doing well now.’
It was clear that while Willow was welcome in the family’s home, she wasn’t welcome in their business.
‘I hope you brought your appetite with you,’ Paula said, turning away from the window. ‘I’ve been cooking all day.’
‘I hope that wasn’t on my account.’
‘It was, actually. You’re the first woman Vaughn has invited home to dinner in… well, years.’
Willow fell into step with her. ‘I’m not sure Vaughn did invite me.’ Her tone was playful.
Paula laughed lightly. ‘True. But I know my son better than anyone, and after watching the two of you together last night, I knew I had to invite you.’
Willow dropped her gaze to the floor, resisting the temptation to ask what it was that she saw.
Downstairs, Willow found Vaughn smoking in one of the living rooms. He immediately stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray when she entered the room.
‘You’re worried about me inhaling smoke but not yourself?’ she asked.
‘I’m more worried about the person I’ll become when I stop.’ He rose from the lounge. ‘How was the tour?’
‘This house is crazy beautiful.’ She looked past him to the tidy bookshelves. ‘I’m definitely going to need a garden tour later.’
‘I’ll take you after dinner.’ He watched her for a moment. ‘Hungry?’
‘Starving, actually. Harrison pushed me rather hard today.’ Then, seeing the change in his expression, she added, ‘Because we’re working on the variation.’
‘You don’t need to be pushed for that.’ He looked out the window, allowing the tension between them to dissipate. ‘Let’s get some food into you.’
The dining room featured an assortment of rich mahogany furnishings and colourful dinnerware. Salvatore and Antonio were already seated at the table when the pair entered. They fell silent and rose from their chairs when they spotted Willow.
‘You remember my father,’ Vaughn said.
Willow nodded. ‘Of course. Good to see you again.’
Salvatore gestured to an empty chair. ‘Sit, sit.’
‘And I don’t believe you’ve met Tony,’ Vaughn said as he smoothly pulled Willow’s chair out.
‘No.’ She sat. ‘Though I’ve seen you around the theatre a lot. Should I call you Antonio or Tony?’
‘My friends and family call me Tony.’
Willow was unsure what to do with that, as she was neither.
It was incredible to Willow how two brothers could look so similar and yet be so different in the same breath. Same build, same colour hair, same teeth, hair, smile. However, Antonio’s face was unshaven, he wore a polo T-shirt and jeans, and he had only one visible tattoo: a partially covered cross on his bicep.
‘Nice to meet the dancer Ma hasn’t stopped talking about since the bar opening,’ Antonio said.
Willow’s eyebrows rose. ‘I can’t be that interesting, surely.’
Paula walked in carrying a tray of something. ‘All I said was that you seemed like a lovely young woman, and you had kind eyes.’
Willow straightened her already straight cutlery.
‘I hope you like osso bucco,’ Paula said.
‘As in the poet?’ Willow asked, looking up.
Salvatore’s expression turned to one of pure horror. Then, noticing Vaughn’s smirk, he relaxed.
‘What did I miss?’ Antonio asked, looking between everyone.
‘I may have thought that caponata was a composer when the menu was being discussed the other day,’ Willow explained.
Antonio grinned down at his plate. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’
‘Given you’re one-eighth Italian,’ Vaughn said, ‘I think it’s shameful.’
Suppressing a smile, Willow glanced sideways at him, noting the playful glint in his eyes despite his serious face.
Paula gestured to a bowl. ‘Try the olives, Willow. It’s a family recipe.’
‘My mother was an exceptional cook,’ Salvatore said, pushing them closer to her. ‘Eat, eat.’
Willow placed a spoonful of them on her plate and popped one into her mouth. Flavour exploded. Garlic, lemon, chilli. ‘Delicious. Vampires wouldn’t dare after a few of these.’ When she snuck a look at Vaughn, she found him watching her with that trademark intensity of his.
‘How long have the two of you been… acquainted?’ Antonio asked as he served himself some prosciutto.
‘A few weeks,’ Willow answered, feeling awkward about the short time period and the use of the word ‘acquaintance.’
Antonio paused chewing. ‘A few weeks ?’
‘Willow is here as my guest,’ Paula said, giving Willow a reassuring smile.
Antonio tossed an olive into his mouth, eyes on his brother, who wasn’t saying a word. ‘Right.’
The osso buco was delicious. Willow savoured the tender meat and rich sauce. The caponata was equally as tasty, as was the pasta alla Norma. And the prawns.
After the seafood, Willow leaned close to Vaughn and whispered, ‘I’m starting to get the food sweats.’
‘You did say you were starving,’ he whispered back.
‘I hope you’re ready to roll me out the front door.’
When he met her gaze, she realised how close their faces were. She jumped when Antonio’s phone rang.
Vaughn rested his arm on the back of her chair. ‘You okay?’
Nodding, she avoided eye contact. The presence of his hand behind her was driving her temperature up even higher.
Antonio glanced at his phone, his eyebrows coming together before excusing himself. He left the room, and Willow found it strange that no one asked who it was or if everything was all right, but then she remembered who she was dining with. There was a distinct lack of curiosity or concern.
‘Have some wine,’ Salvatore said, picking up the bottle.
‘Oh, no thanks,’ Willow replied.
‘You don’t drink wine ?’ The question was loaded with accusation.
Vaughn spoke up on her behalf. ‘ Sleeping Beauty starts in a few weeks.’
‘Dancers need to keep their brains sharp,’ Paula said. ‘Right, Willow?’
She nodded. ‘And weight down.’
Paula set her cutlery on her plate and studied Willow across the table. ‘Vaughn tells me your family’s in Sydney. Will they be flying down for your first solo?’
‘My mum and brother wanted to fly down, but unfortunately they have to work.’ She felt the weight of Salvatore’s stare on her.
‘And your father?’ he asked.
And there it was. ‘I’m not in contact with him. He left after my brother was born. Haven’t seen him since.’
Salvatore’s mouth flattened into a disapproving line. ‘What do you mean, he left ?’
‘He wasn’t suited to family life.’ That was the polite way of saying he was too selfish to see it through.
Salvatore proceeded to say a whole lot of things in Italian, prompting Paula to pat his hand in a calming manner.
‘Pa,’ Vaughn said, shaking his head.
His father fell silent.
‘How old’s your brother?’ Paula asked, moving the conversation along.
‘Twenty. He’ll finish his electrical apprenticeship next year.’
‘Good for him,’ Paula said in her proud mum voice.
Salvatore swallowed his mouthful of food. ‘Then he can take care of his mother.’
Willow reached for her glass of water. ‘Mum’s fairly self-sufficient. She works in a daycare centre.’
Salvatore went to say something, then changed his mind.
After a few more questions about where she grew up, Vaughn placed his napkin on the table and stood. ‘Willow wanted to see the garden.’
Paula looked up from her plate. ‘I made cannoli?—’
‘Later, Ma,’ Vaughn said. ‘Let Willow digest dinner first.’
Willow’s stomach protested at the mere mention of more food.
A knowing look settled on Paula’s face. ‘Of course. Take your time. Be sure to show Willow the herb garden.’
Rising, Willow followed Vaughn out of the dining room and through the house to the back door. They exited to an alfresco area, which was lit up by festoon lights. Willow took a moment to appreciate the space before they stepped down into the garden.
It was a peaceful haven that made her forget they were only minutes from the city. The air smelled of basil and flowers. Willow stopped in front of the herb garden Paula had mentioned. ‘Rosemary, basil, parsley, mint. The rest I have no idea.’
Vaughn pointed. ‘Sage, thyme, marjoram, oregano, dill.’
She was suitably impressed. ‘Well, aren’t you full of surprises? Did you spend time out here with your mum as a kid?’
He nodded. ‘And Nonna. I cooked with them too. Though unfortunately, the habit didn’t stick.’
Willow regarded him as they continued walking. ‘What’s your go-to dish to impress a date?’
‘I don’t cook for people. On the rare occasion I do date, we eat at a restaurant.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘ Every date? What if you can’t be bothered going out and just want a quiet night in?’
‘Then I’ll stay at home—alone. If I can’t be bothered going out, then I’m in no mood for company.’
It was an honest answer, at least. ‘Fair enough.’
Vaughn slid his hands into his pockets. ‘If I was to cook for a date, I would keep it simple. A mushroom risotto or filetto di pomodoro with a leafy salad and a good shiraz.’
‘Thankfully, I’m in no condition to get hungry again.’ The image of him plating Italian food in a pristine kitchen flashed in her mind, his face serious, an open bottle of wine breathing nearby. In this image, she was seated on a stool, perhaps admiring his knife skills. She expelled the thought and changed the subject. ‘Is it normal for Antonio to disappear halfway through his meal?’
Vaughn watched his feet for a few paces. ‘Presumably, he had business to tend to.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Is it the same for you? The phone rings and you get up and leave?’
‘I leave if I have to. Sometimes things can’t wait.’
They continued towards a small grove of citrus trees. Willow was turning a sprig of rosemary she had picked between her fingers. ‘When you say “business,” are you referring to DeLuca Construction or your bars?’
He looked at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Making conversation.’
‘About business?’
‘About everything.’ She swallowed. ‘Am I not allowed to ask you questions?’
He exhaled, like he was tired of her. Maybe he was. ‘There are family businesses and personal businesses. Often they overlap. That’s all you need to know.’
She chewed on her lip as her curiosity got the better of her. ‘The trial that took place last year?—’
‘What about it?’ His tone had an edge.
‘Paula mentioned earlier that it was tough on you.’
‘Did she now?’
‘I imagine the media attention took its toll.’
He looked up at the sky. ‘The trial was tough on everyone.’
‘Of course.’ She paused. ‘But I was asking specifically about you .’
He stopped and pulled out his cigarette case, then, changing his mind, returned it to his pocket. ‘You want a sad story in hopes of humanising me, Miss Hayes. Is that it?’
‘I don’t need a sad story to do that,’ she replied as confidently as she could. ‘I just want to know you a little.’
He met her gaze, his eyes appearing more blue than grey in the fading light.
‘I was there the night of the accident. It was a difficult scene, even for someone like me.’
Willow remained perfectly still.
‘There was a girl.’ He looked around before continuing. ‘Eight years old. She was conscious when I lifted the plaster off her.’ A pause. ‘She died before the ambulance arrived.’
Willow pressed her eyes closed. ‘Oh my God.’ She had read a little about the case but not the victims. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He shook his head. ‘You can google the rest.’
‘I know it was ruled an accident.’
He stared at her, saying nothing.
Willow offered him the sprig of rosemary, and he took it. She decided it was time for a change in subject. ‘I think your mum really likes me.’
‘I think you’re right.’
‘This has been one of the best first dates I’ve had since moving here.’ A smile spread across her face. ‘Too bad my date is a married woman.’
His eyes shone with amusement. ‘That is too bad.’
‘Does your dad normally take a while to warm up to people?’
‘Yes. If he warms up at all.’
She laughed through her nose. ‘And what about you?’
‘What about me?’
She shrugged. ‘Are you mad that I said yes and came here?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
It was so difficult to read him. ‘Because I’m a dancer?’ Her cheeks heated at her own question.
His brows pinched together, like the question pained him. ‘Because you’re a lot of things.’
The silky tone of his voice combined with how beautiful he looked washed in the last rays of daylight had Willow stepping closer. She reached up and touched the cross on the side of his neck. ‘Are you quite religious?’
Vaughn caught her hand.
‘What?’ she asked, feeling no urge whatsoever to pull out of his grasp.
‘This is not a good idea.’
‘But you said I was a lot of things.’ Her mouth stretched into a smile. ‘You’re a lot of things too.’
His hand slackened around her wrist.
‘You could have told me not to come,’ she said. ‘I would have stayed away if you had.’
No response.
‘I think you let me come here as a test,’ she said, feeling brave. ‘You wanted to watch me with your family, see me in this setting. Perhaps you wanted to prove to yourself that I don’t fit, and then you would be justified in keeping your distance.’ When he didn’t reply, she asked, ‘Does my single-parent upbringing disqualify me?’
He exhaled. ‘You think I give a shit where you came from or who raised you?’
‘I’m certain your dad does.’
Vaughn watched her for a few seconds before speaking again. ‘He was the first person in our family to marry someone outside the… larger family. You think his parents were welcoming of my mother?’
The question caught her off-guard. ‘Seems like they accepted her eventually.’
‘It was a long road to get to that point.’ His eyes moved over her. ‘When he looks at you, he sees his own struggles.’
She sat with that information for a moment. ‘And you’re trying to avoid that struggle?’
He blinked. ‘The only time our worlds should meet is when someone like me is enjoying art made by someone like you.’
Something pulled in her chest. ‘Because of’—she lowered her voice—‘the larger family?’
‘Because of who I am.’
‘I trust you,’ she said without hesitation.
He leaned in. ‘ Don’t .’
Willow found herself pushing up onto her toes and kissing him. A proper lips-to-his kiss, with no idea how he would react. The moment their lips met, his fingers went into her hair, simultaneously pulling her closer. A wave of fire tore through her, followed by a melting sensation. It coursed through every part of her body. Her hands went to his face, to the hint of stubble that prickled her skin in the most delicious way. Touching him was an entirely new sensation.
Breathe , she reminded herself.
Vaughn returned the kiss with intense enthusiasm, his movements slow but firm. Then he pulled away and dropped his forehead to hers, his breath coming fast like her own. He stroked the back of her hair as they gathered themselves.
‘Willow.’ Her name from his mouth was a new kind of pleasure. ‘I’m going to need you to walk back inside. Can you do that for me?’
She shook her head.
‘Please.’
‘I don’t want to.’
His fingers pressed into her head. ‘ Willow .’
This time, her name came out as a frustrated growl. The tone of his voice had her drawing back and looking at him. His broken expression had her stepping away.
Confused and embarrassed, she said, ‘You know, I think I’m going to skip the cannoli. I couldn’t possibly…’ She touched her lips, which were still warm from his. ‘I should go thank your parents and say goodnight.’ Turning away, she headed towards the house before he could respond.
‘Finn will take you home,’ he called to her back.
She hugged herself despite the warm air. ‘I’d prefer to get an Uber.’
Vaughn jogged up behind her. ‘Stop.’
She didn’t stop.
‘Willow—’
‘Please don’t say anything else. I’m already humiliated enough.’ He caught her arm, and she turned to him. ‘It’s fine. Everything you said, your reasons, it’s all fine.’ She pulled her arm free and resumed walking.
Vaughn’s footsteps sounded behind her, then fell away as she entered the house. She paused inside the door, ordering an Uber with trembling fingers. Once it was confirmed, she took a moment to collect herself, then continued on to the dining room to say her goodbyes.