Chapter Six #2
Leo had excused himself a little earlier.
Business always came first for him and she assumed he was networking about the Tessitore deal.
She picked her way through the crowd of people in dinner suits and gowns and sparkling jewellery, looking for him.
Once, she’d thought she didn’t fit in these spaces any more but now she realised her place was wherever she wanted it to be.
She didn’t know where Leo was in the throng of people but she didn’t take long to find him, in amongst a small group of men.
Hoteliers, property magnates. Potential clients no doubt.
She realised then, that Leo was moving puzzle pieces around in a way that would advantage him.
Making introductions. Helping others so that they might help him right back, when he called in the favour.
She felt a burn in her belly. Was she just another puzzle piece too? Although why should she care if she was? Did she even want the answers to those questions? Simone hesitated. Maybe she could come back later…
No.
If that’s what this was, she refused to allow herself to be a part of Leo’s complicated jigsaw, not any more.
They were supposed to be a team. She began cutting through the crowd towards him.
As she approached the group, he was engrossed in conversation but some others noticed her.
She wasn’t a fool, she knew those looks on their faces.
Admiration, attraction. Maybe it made her throw her shoulders back a little more, put a smile on her face.
It was the first time in such a long time she’d felt noticed.
Simone realised she liked it. A strange tightness gripped in her chest. She’d like it a lot more if it had come from Leo rather than some strangers.
At that discovery, she almost turned around and left.
But he must have seen their attention move to somewhere other than him.
Noticed their appraising gazes. And he turned to face her, eyebrow raised.
What was he thinking in this moment? It was hard to tell. She realised he was a man who kept a great deal hidden and whilst she might have let that slide once, now she seemed to want all of the answers.
‘Tesoro,’ he said. The endearment washed over her. It was for show and perhaps to stake a claim of sorts. ‘You need something?’
Dinner was over, the band had started in earnest. She knew what she wanted…
‘I was going to claim the dance you promised.’
‘I’m in the middle of something right now.’ He nodded to the men with him. ‘I’ll find you shortly.’
Was he putting her in her place? She wasn’t sure, though clearly he was signifying their importance over her, because where were all their wives? Were they off in some corner somewhere, all wondering whether their husbands would ever ask them to dance too?
‘Of course,’ she said, not wanting to rock the boat. She wasn’t sure what this discussion was about, its importance, so she didn’t want to crash some business deal by being difficult. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’
Simone was about to leave, when Leo smiled.
It didn’t reach his eyes. It was the smile she’d seen him give to countless numbers of people who he’d dismissed, who were unimportant to him.
A smile that was a meaningless platitude.
Something exploded inside of her, a volcanic type of sensation that burned from her solar plexus outwards. She gritted her teeth.
She was not going to keep herself in hiding, not any more.
She turned with as much composure as she could, then stalked off back through the crowd, not knowing where she was really headed.
Her usually cool, calm demeanour shattered.
There was a terrace she could go to, she supposed.
Maybe she could grab a glass of champagne and cool off, when all she wanted to do was run raging into the night.
Simone looked for a waiter as she neared the dance floor.
The couples on it all swaying to the beat of a song designed for a slow dance.
‘Signora Zanetti.’
The voice made her stop, a familiar one she’d heard before, once, when after a number of approaches from recruiters and third parties, he’d called her personally to offer her a job. She turned and looked up at the imposing form of Rocco Silvestri.
‘Mr Silvestri.’
‘Rocco, please.’
Rocco and his father’s company made some of the finest and most sought-after designer furniture in the whole of Italy.
Yet Leo refused to use any of it in his work.
Anyone who worked in Circolo knew of Leo’s disdain, if not enmity, for the Silvestris.
She’d never asked why as it hadn’t been relevant to her role.
She’d thought it might have been that Leo and Rocco were the same age and both were eligible, Italian bachelors.
Perhaps natural rivalry had morphed into something more than mere competitiveness.
Style magazines often compared the two men, even though there was no comparison to be had.
In her opinion, Leo won in all ways. Though Leo didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d hold a grudge for frivolous reasons. It had to be something more…
A question for another day.
‘Let’s not stand on formality. Call me Simone.’
The corner of Rocco’s mouth kicked up. He wore a tuxedo like Leo, but was somehow stockier, brawnier.
More like a fighter, as opposed to Leo’s indefinable, almost aristocratic sophistication, which she realised now she preferred.
Rocco was still a handsome man in his own right though, with his dark hair and dark eyes.
Typical Italian good looks, she might have said.
Simone could see why he always appeared to have a different woman on his arm.
Although tonight he was without the usual female accompaniment.
‘Your husband wouldn’t like that.’
‘My husband isn’t here to express any thoughts on the subject.’
‘Which makes me a lucky man. Where were you going in such a hurry?’
A loaded question, she was sure. Did it mean he’d been watching her? The burn might still be in her gut at Leo’s rejection but she wasn’t one to air her grievances in public. Especially not with someone who Leo viewed as a kind of enemy. She was angry, not petty.
‘I was about to find myself a drink, whilst waiting for Leo to join me.’
‘Why don’t I find one for you?’ Rocco made a minute gesture with his hand, and a waiter arrived like magic. She took a glass of champagne from the man’s tray with thanks and sipped the chilled bubbles. Rocco took a dark, blood-coloured glass of red wine for himself.
‘If I were your husband, I wouldn’t be leaving you alone like this. You never know who you might run into.’
She laughed, seeing this for what it was, a kind of harmless flirtation. Probably begun by Rocco to annoy Leo.
‘I’m sure I’m safe enough.’
‘I’m gratified by your confidence. And why is Zanetti keeping you waiting?’
The hair prickled at the back of her neck in warning. ‘Oh, you know. Business.’
Rocco lifted the glass of red to his lips, took a hefty swig. ‘When there’s so much pleasure to be had? What a waste.’
The band struck up another tune. This one jauntier, less romantic. She looked over at the couples there, smiling, having fun.
When was the last time she’d done the same?
As Rocco had said, it seemed like such a waste.
Especially this existence of work and little else.
She could have fallen down a flight of stairs and never regained consciousness, and what would she have achieved out of life?
Simone wasn’t sure she liked the answer.
‘You want to dance.’
It wasn’t a question. She hated that she was so transparent.
‘Yes. But I’m sure my husband will be along soon.’
Rocco snorted. Clearly not believing her. ‘Why not dance with me?’
‘You still have a glass of wine to drink.’
‘What’s a glass of wine when I can dance with a beautiful woman?’
‘Now you’re trying to flatter me.’
‘I’m telling the truth. You’d know that if your husband told you often enough.’
If they had that sort of marriage, Rocco might be right. Still, they were admissions she couldn’t make.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Perhaps it means more coming from him.’
Rocco smacked his palm to his chest as if she’d shot him through the heart. Then he started laughing. Warm, genuine and if she wasn’t mistaken, a little chastened.
‘I’m wounded, Signora Zanetti. And it’s only a dance.’
She wasn’t so sure about that, but right now, she didn’t much care. Anyhow, she’d dealt with a hundred men like Rocco Silvestri before. She could do it again.
‘Then it would be my pleasure.’
Rocco reached out and Simone handed him her glass. He found another waiter and deposited both on their tray and came back to her. Then he crooked his arm.
‘Shall we?’
She slipped her arm through his as he led her to the dance floor.
The couples there made way for them. Some looking on in interest. Most, absorbed only in each other.
As they moved into the crowd, he eased one hand round her waist, took hers in the other.
She placed her free hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his suit, cool under her palm.
Rocco didn’t try to pull her closer than he should for two strangers, keeping a respectable distance.
The music’s rhythm singing through her as they began to move, even though this didn’t feel as seamless as it had with Leo on their wedding day.
Like a shoe that was a bit too small. Like it wasn’t quite the right fit.
But she wasn’t looking for the right fit with Rocco Silvestri, she was just looking for fun.
To find the woman she’d lost so long ago, through her family’s rejection, the hard work she’d had to put in to break away, to earn her own money.
She’d lost part of herself in trying to make something of her life so she could support herself, and now, support her sister.
It was time to rediscover who Simone Taylor really was.