Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
O n Friday evening there was a lot of giggling coming from the salon that Ana shared with her sisters.
Their quarters consisted of a TV room, lounge, their bedrooms and one extra for friends staying over.
It had been their space since they’d moved in, shell-shocked and orphaned, all those years ago.
Cristina had been little more than a toddler.
Felipe closed his eyes in silent prayer, thankful that the worst was well and truly behind them.
He wished Ana might spread her wings and go elsewhere for just a little while, to see another part of the world and experience more than the Rebelo family.
Her amazing pastry skills would benefit even more from time spent in other kitchens and other cuisines.
He made a mental note to encourage her more.
Perhaps he could speak to some contacts in Lisbon.
Felipe was loath to crash the girls’ party, but their infectious laughter was too enticing. And apart from their morning swims he’d barely seen Rebecca. Dinner in the evening didn’t count because she was monopolised by the rest of the family and after that she usually met Will for an evening drink.
Another laugh rang out and he decided that a man bearing chocolate and wine would be far more welcome, so he diverted to the kitchen to grab some supplies to smooth his entrée.
‘Knock, knock, can I come in?’
There was another burst of raucous laughter.
‘What’s the password?’ called Katerina. Felipe looked down at the label of the bottle in his hand.
‘Delancia,’ he replied.
The door was thrown open and Katerina snatched the bottle out of his hand. She gave a begrudging sniff. ‘I suppose you can come in.’
Felipe stepped past her and his heart seized a little in his chest at the tableau of love in front of him.
His m?e was sitting on the sofa, her arm around Cristina, who was snuggled up to her.
Next to them, Ana perched on the arm, idly wrapping one of Cristina’s curls around one finger, a distracted smile on her face as she listened to her cousin and aunt laughing at something.
In the meantime, Katerina bounced back to the spot she’d clearly just vacated at Maria’s feet, clutching the bottle as if she’d won a prize.
They all looked so happy and serene, completely at home with one another.
For a moment he felt his limbs soften and the tension in his shoulders fade away at the sight of all his favourite people in the world.
This was why he worked so hard, why he had made sacrifices, and it was all worth it.
Their security and love for one another shone through.
On the periphery sat Rebecca, and his heart clenched again. She looked at the others with such bare longing, as if she knew she wasn’t quite part of them, but she was smiling and laughing at the same time.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘How are you surviving this crazy makeover?’ He made a show of studying her and then pulled a face. ‘What have they done to you?’
All four women burst out laughing.
‘Don’t you like it?’ asked Maria, with an arch smile. ‘We’ve been having so much fun.’
‘Mmm,’ said Felipe. ‘I can see.’
On one side of Rebecca’s head, her hair was completely straight to the neck and then flipped up in a wave. On the other side, her hair was coiled into fat ringlets that bounced slightly like the Slinky toys he’d played with as a child.
She turned to look at him and flicked her flippy hair on one side. ‘What do you think?’
‘Cool, isn’t it?’ said Cristina.
Felipe looked back at Rebecca’s face and grinned. ‘Taylor Swift meets Agneta from Abba, I presume.’
On one half of her face, she had perfectly painted matt red lips and immaculately applied wingtip eyeliner with a smoky eyeshadow while the other half of her lips was glossed in a shiny pale pink and her other eye heavily mascaraed and dusted with shimmery blue eyeshadow.
Admittedly, both were carefully and skilfully applied.
He recognised the hand of Cristina, who spent hours watching TikTok make-up tutorials.
Rebecca’s cheekbone on the right was outlined in a dark bronze sandwiched on either side by a pale, lustrous highlight.
On the opposite side of her face was a delicate smear of pink blush that spread over a good portion of her cheek.
Growing up with this many women, not forgetting having two sisters, he’d been exposed to enough make-up product talk to run his own branch of Sephora.
Rebecca rose to her feet and Felipe instantly recognised the hand of Ana in the flowing linen trousers and pale taupe linen tunic– yes, he was also expert in colours, and knew the names of various shades and tones.
Rebecca stood a bit like a stork, as if not quite sure what to do with her legs, even though the clothes suited her long, lean lines.
It was obvious that although she looked good in them, she didn’t feel the same way.
‘The clothes are boring,’ said Cristina.
‘Cristina’s make-up is too much,’ said Katerina.
‘Neither hairstyle works,’ said Ana.
‘You look beautiful without make-up,’ said Maria. ‘Doesn’t she, Felipe?’
His mouth twitched. The delicacy of his mother’s matchmaking skills needed some work.
‘Try on the red T-shirt and denim skirt,’ said Katerina, standing up and pushing Rebecca behind the three-panelled screen that served as the fitting room. The two women disappeared from view.
‘Put her hair in a messy bun,’ advised Cristina. ‘And high heels.’
Ana rolled her eyes and Maria patted her on the leg. ‘What do you think, Felipe?’
There was more giggling from behind the screen and then Rebecca emerged in a scarlet off-the-shoulder, skintight top that stopped just beneath her boobs, and a low-slung full skirt of lightweight denim.
Felipe’s eyes were drawn to the taut expanse of bare midriff and his groin tightened at the memory of the lean, naked length of her in bed beneath him.
As if she read his mind, she glanced at him and to his embarrassment he felt himself blush. He never blushed!
On her feet were high red strappy sandals that made her coltish legs look even longer.
‘You look like the raunchy one from West Side Story ,’ said Maria.
‘Yes. Yes. Anita,’ said Katerina with a clap of her hands. Rebecca swished her skirt from side to side and rolled her shoulders, her eyes suddenly mischievous as she sang a few lines of ‘America’, in a passable Latin American style accent.
The women all joined in and trigger-fingered Cristina brought the song up on her phone in seconds.
Felipe felt the quick hitch of his pulse as Rebecca beamed and shushed her skirt even more.
‘I like it,’ said Felipe, with a quick wink at Rebecca, who now took a few careful steps, tottering on the heels like a newborn foal on stilts. Maria beamed at him.
‘I need lessons in walking in these,’ she said, taking a few more clumsy paces forward. Then her heel caught the rug and she went pitching forward.
Felipe caught her just in time, his hand splayed across her bare stomach as he set her upright.
‘You okay?’ he asked, reluctant to remove his hand from her soft skin. She looked up into his eyes and the world went still. It lasted a mere second before she straightened, regaining her balance.
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I don’t need saving.’ He saw the familiar lift of her chin and her ingrained refusal to admit to any vulnerability. As always, she demonstrated that determined independence he knew so well. His heart hurt for her.
‘We all need saving sometimes,’ he said softly.
She looked up, her eyes sharp and bird-bright, and gave him a brittle smile.
‘What do you think?’ Back on her feet now, she twirled. The sassy red of the top suited her, as did the off-the-shoulder cut which emphasised the delicate lines of her collar bones and, despite the breadth of her shoulders, made her look a little more fragile.
‘Very sexy,’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
She flipped the skirt again and gave him a pleased smile. ‘I like it,’ she said. ‘It’s fun and way more daring that anything I’d choose.’
‘It would look even better with a pair of denim shorts. Your legs are wasted in that skirt.’
‘Ay!’ screeched Katerina. ‘He’s right! Damn. Yes, shorts.’ She dived back behind the screen and returned holding aloft a tiny pair of shorts.
‘They’re mine!’ said Cristina.
‘Well, of course. Mine won’t fit Rebecca!’ She slapped her own curvy behind. Cristina, with her stork legs and gawky arms, had a while yet to grow into womanhood.
Katerina hustled Rebecca back behind the screen.
‘And perhaps a pair of ballet flats,’ suggested Felipe.
Ana groaned.
‘What?’ he asked, holding out his hands in mock supplication.
‘Why do you always have to be right? That’s perfect.’
When Rebecca returned, her feet squashed into a pair of Katerina’s shoes which were at least a size too small, she looked sassy, sexy– and like herself. And those long legs were shown off to much better effect.
‘Now how do you feel?’ he asked.
She grinned at him. ‘Like a better version of me, although I’m not sure I could go out for dinner like this.’
‘Don’t you worry,’ said Cristina. ‘We’ve only just got started. Now go away, Felipe. You’re spoiling our fun!’
He bowed, catching his mother’s eye. She gave him an approving nod before he backed out of the room, giving Rebecca one last admiring look. She was glorious, and now he was worried that Will might think so too.