Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

‘Give it to me. I’ll go and talk to her. This is my fault.’

‘Your fault?’

He gave her a wry smile. ‘I asked her if she was sure.’

Jill smiled back at him and kissed his cheek. ‘Well, thank God you did, Leo. I haven’t had the guts. Here, take it. And get her out of here, can you? She doesn’t need all this hoopla.’

He nodded, took the tea and headed for the stairs. Her bedroom was over the kitchen, with a perfect view of the marquee on his parents’ lawn and the steady stream of guests who were arriving for the wedding reception that wasn’t.

Damn.

He crossed the landing and tapped on her bedroom door.

* * *

Someone was knocking.

Her mother, probably. She dropped her head back against the door and sucked in a breath. She wasn’t ready to face her. Wasn’t ready to face anyone—

‘Amy? Can I come in?’

Leo. Her mother must have sent him up. She heard the knob turn, could feel the door gently pushing her in the back, but she couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay there for ever, hiding from everyone, until she’d worked out what had happened and what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

His voice came through the door again, low and gentle. ‘Amy? Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve got a cup of tea for you.’

It was the tea that made her move. That, and the reassuring normality of his voice. She shuffled over, hauling her voluminous skirts with her, and he pushed the door gently inwards until he could squeeze past it and shut it behind him.

She sniffed hard, and she heard him tutting softly. He crouched down, his face coming into view, his eyes scanning the mess her face must be. She scrubbed her cheeks with her hands and he held out a wad of tissues.

He’d even come prepared, she thought, and the tears began again.

She heard the soft click of his tongue as he tutted again, the gentle touch of his hand on her hair. ‘Oh, Amy.’

He put the tea down, sat on the floor next to her and hauled her into his arms. ‘Come here, you silly thing. You’ll be OK. It’ll all work out in the end.’

‘Will it? How? What am I going to do?’ she mumbled into his shoulder, busily shredding the sodden tissues in her lap. ‘I’ve given up my job, I’d already given up my flat—we were about to move out of his flat and buy a family house and have babies, and I was going to try going freelance with my photography, and now...I don’t have a life any more, Leo. It’s all gone, every part of it. I just walked away from it and I feel as if I’ve stepped off a cliff. I must be mad!’

Leo’s heart contracted.

Poor Amy. She sounded utterly lost, and it tugged at something deep inside him, some part of him that had spent years protecting her from the fallout of her impulsive nature. He hugged her closer, rocking her gently against his chest. ‘I don’t think you’re mad. I think it’s the first sensible thing you’ve done in ages,’ he told her gently, echoing her mother’s words.

She shifted so she could see his face. ‘How come everybody else knew this except me?’ she said plaintively. ‘Why am I so stupid?’

‘You aren’t stupid. He’s a nice guy. He’s just not the right man for you. If he was, you wouldn’t have hesitated for a moment, and nor would he. And it didn’t seem to me as if you’d broken his heart. Quite the opposite.’

‘No.’ There’d been nothing heartbroken, she thought, about the flash of relief in his eyes in that fleeting moment. Sadness, yes, but no heartbreak. ‘I suppose he was just doing the decent thing.’

Leo’s eyes clouded and he turned away. ‘Yeah. Trust me, it doesn’t work.’

‘Was that what you did?’ she asked him, momentarily distracted from her own self-induced catastrophe. ‘The decent thing? When you married the wrong person for the wrong reasons?’

A muscle bunched in his jaw. ‘Something like that. Are you going to drink this tea or not?’

She took the mug that he was holding out to her, cradled it in both hands and sighed shakily.

‘You OK now?’

She nodded. She was, she realised. Just about, so long as she didn’t have to make any more decisions, because clearly she was unqualified in that department. She sipped her tea, lifted her head and rested it back against the wall with another shaky little sigh. ‘I will be. I don’t know; I just feel—I can’t explain—as if I can’t trust myself any more. I don’t know who I am, and I thought I knew. Does that make sense, Leo?’

‘Absolutely. Been there, done that, worn out the T-shirt.’

She turned to him, searching his face and finding only kindness and concern. No reproach. No disappointment in her. Just Leo, doing what he always did, getting her out of the mess she’d got herself into.

Again.

‘Leo, will you get me out of here?’ she asked unevenly. ‘I can’t stay here, not with all this...’

‘Of course I will. That’s what I’m here for.’

‘To rescue me? Poor you. I bet you thought you were done with all that at last.’

‘What, me? Change the habits of a lifetime?’ he teased, and she had to laugh, even though it wasn’t really remotely funny.

She glanced down at herself, then at him. He’d abandoned the tailcoat, loosened the rose-pink cravat which showed off his olive skin to perfection, and turned back the cuffs on his immaculate white shirt to reveal strong wrists above hands criss-crossed with fine white scars. Chef’s hands, he called them, but the scars didn’t detract from his appeal, not in any way. He’d been fighting girls off with a stick since he’d hit puberty, and the scars hadn’t put them off at all.

She managed a small smile. ‘We might have to change first, before we go.’

His lips quirked. ‘You think? I thought I looked rather good like this.’

So did she, but then she thought he looked good in anything.

‘You do, but if the press catch a glimpse of us, they’ll think the nation’s favourite celebrity chef’s secretly tied the knot again,’ she said, her mouth on autopilot, and his face clouded.

‘Yeah, well, it’ll be a cold day in hell before that ever happens,’ he said tightly, and she could have kicked herself for blundering all over such a sensitive area. She closed her eyes and let out an anguished sigh.

‘Oh, God, Leo, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that—’

‘It’s OK, it doesn’t matter, and you’re quite right. I don’t need that sort of publicity, and neither do you.’ He smiled fleetingly, then looked away again. ‘So, anywhere in particular you want to go?’

‘I don’t know. Got any ideas?’

He shrugged. ‘Not really. My house is still crawling with builders, and I have to fly to Tuscany tomorrow on business.’

‘Oh.’ Her heart sank at the thought of him going, and she felt her smile slip. ‘I don’t suppose you want to smuggle me out there in your luggage?’ she joked weakly, and propped up her wavering smile. ‘I promise not to be a nuisance.’

‘How many times have I heard you say that?’ he murmured drily, and she felt a wash of guilt flood over her.

He was right—she was always imposing on him, getting him to extract her from one mess or another. Or she had done, back in the days when they really had been best friends. And that was years ago.

She forced herself to ease away from him, to stop leaning on him, both metaphorically and physically. Time to get out her big girl pants and put their friendship on a more equal and adult footing.

She scraped up the last smile in the bottom of the bucket and plastered it on her face.

‘I’m sorry, I was only joking. I know you can’t. Don’t worry about me, Leo, I’ll be all right. It’s my mess, I’ll clear it up.’

Somehow...

CHAPTER TWO

HE COULDN’T DO IT.

He couldn’t desert her when her life had just turned upside down—and anyway, it might well be the perfect solution for both of them.

He’d been worrying about leaving tomorrow and abandoning her with the repercussions of all this, worrying about how he was going to juggle his tiny daughter and business meetings, and here was the answer, on a plate. Unless...

He studied her thoughtfully, searching her face for clues. ‘Were you joking about coming with me? Because if not, it could be a great idea. Not the smuggling, obviously, but if you did it could solve both our problems.’

A tiny frown appeared. ‘You’ve got a problem?’

He nodded. ‘Sort of. I’ve got meetings to go to, and business and babies don’t mix. Normally I’d leave Ella behind with my parents, but this is going to be for several days and it’s not fair on them at their age, especially on top of the wedding—and don’t say it,’ he added, pressing a finger lightly on her lips to stifle the apology he knew was coming.

She took hold of his hand and moved it away. ‘Why not, since it’s true? It is my fault, and they’ve gone to so much trouble—’

He pulled his hand back and placed it firmly over her mouth to silence her before she got back onto that again.

‘I don’t want to argue, Amy. Hear me out. Please?’

She nodded, and he lowered his hand and carried on. ‘I like to be there for Ella every day, even if it’s only for part of it, even if it means dragging her around with me. It’s the only way I’ve been able to look after her and my business, and it’s a precarious balance that so far seems to be working. I don’t want to upset that balance, abandon her for days and nights on end—and anyway, shortly after I get back I start filming the next TV series for eight weeks or so, and I’m going to need my parents’ goodwill for that. If you would come to Italy with us and look after her just while I’m in the meetings, it would be amazingly helpful.’

Amy eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Really? You mean it? I was only joking, really. I didn’t expect you to say yes. I was just trying to—I don’t know. Make light of it, really. I don’t want to be a burden to you.’

‘Absolutely I mean it, and you wouldn’t be a burden. Not at all. You’d be a real help. I’m trying to set up a contract with a family there to supply our restaurants. I tasted some of their products at a trade fair, and I was really impressed. I want to see how they operate, taste the whole range, negotiate the price and see if we can strike a deal. And doing all that with Ella on my hip really won’t work.’

She laughed a little wryly. ‘No, I can see that. Not exactly professional, and not really fair on her, either.’

‘No, it isn’t, and she’s my top priority. If necessary, I’d cut the trip short rather than compromise my relationship with her, but I don’t want to have to do that, because this is a really great business opportunity and it could be important for her future as well as mine.

‘So—will you come? You’ll have lots of free time to take photos, and it’s beautiful at this time of year. You can chill out away from all this, get some thinking time, clear your head, work out what you’re going to do next. Maybe work on a portfolio of images, if that’s where you think you’re going.’

It sounded tempting. Very tempting, and she could see that he quite genuinely needed her help. He wasn’t just making it up—and anyway, even if he was, did she have a better choice? No. And to stay here another minute was unthinkable.

She could hear the sounds of people thronging outside in the garden—not their garden, but his parents’ garden next door, where the marquee had been set up for the reception.

Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes locked on his. ‘Oh, Leo! All that food...!’

She was swamped with guilt, but he shook his head briskly, brushing it aside as if it was nothing. Which it wasn’t, far from it.

‘It’s not wasted. There are lots of people there to eat it, it’s fine.’

‘Fine?’ It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine, and all of a sudden she was overwhelmed again. ‘It was supposed to be a wedding present from you, and I didn’t even have the wedding.’

‘Oh, Amy,’ he sighed, and pulled her head back down against his shoulder, soothing her as the tears spilled down her cheeks yet again and the enormity of what she’d done, the chaos she’d caused, the things she’d walked away from, gradually sank in and left her breathless with guilt and remorse.

‘I can’t even pay you back,’ she choked out, but he tutted softly and cradled her head against that solid, familiar shoulder that felt so good she could have stayed there for ever.

‘Hush. You don’t need to. Forget it, Amy, it’s the least important thing in the world right now. Don’t worry about it.’

She pushed herself up, swiping the tears off her cheeks with her palms. ‘But I am worried about it! At least let me pay you back for it when I get a job.’

If she ever did. Publishing was in a state of flux, and she’d just walked away from a great career in a really good publishing house because she’d thought she’d have financial security with Nick and could afford to try freelancing with her photography, and now she had nothing! No job, no home, no husband, no future—and all because of some vague sense of unease? She must have been mad—

‘OK, so here’s the deal,’ he said, cutting off her tumbling thoughts with a brisk, no-nonsense tone. ‘Come to Tuscany with me. Look after Ella while I’m in meetings, so I can work all day with a clear conscience and still put her to bed every night, and we’ll call it quits.’

‘Quits? Are you crazy? I know what your outside catering costs, Leo!’

He gave her a wry grin. ‘There’s a substantial mark-up. The true cost is nothing like the tariff. And you know how precious my daughter is to me. Nothing could be more important than leaving her with someone I can trust while I’m over there.’

He gripped her hands, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Come with us, look after her while I’m in meetings, have a holiday, some time out while you work out what to do next. And take photos for me—pictures of me cooking, of the produce, the region, the markets—all of it. Your photos are brilliant, and I can use them for my blog. That would be really valuable to me, so much more professional, and certainly something I’d pay good money for. I usually do it myself and blag people into taking photos of me with chefs and market traders and artisans, and if I’m really stuck I get reduced to taking selfies, and that’s so not a good look!’

She laughed, a funny little sound between a chuckle and a sob that she quickly stifled, and he hugged her again.

‘Come on. Do this for me—please? It would be so helpful I can’t tell you, and it’ll get you away from all this. You’re exhausted and you need to get away, have a total change of scene. And I need you, Amy. I’m not making it up. Not for the photos, they’re just a valuable added bonus, but for Ella, and I can’t put a price on her safety and happiness.’

She searched his eyes again, and saw behind the reassuringly calm exterior that he was telling her the truth. He wasn’t just being kind to her, he really was in a jam, and he’d never ever asked her for help, although God knows he’d given her enough over the years, bailing her out of umpteen scrapes.

Not to mention the catering.

No. She had no choice—and she realised she didn’t want a choice. She wanted to be with Leo. His sound common sense was exactly what she needed to get her through this, and let’s face it, she thought, he’s had enough practice at dealing with me and my appalling life choices.

She nodded. ‘OK. I’ll come—of course I’ll come, and I’ll help you with Ella and take photos and do whatever else I can while you’re there. It’ll be a pleasure to help you, and it’s high time I gave you something back. On one condition, though.’

‘Which is?’ he asked warily.

‘I help you with her care when the filming starts—take some of the burden off your parents. Then I’ll call it quits.’

‘That’s a big commitment.’

‘I know that, but that’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’

His shoulders dropped, relief written all over him, and she felt some of the tension leave her, too.

‘I’ll take it. And thank you, Amy. Thank you so much.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Do you have a case packed ready to go?’

‘Yes. I’ve got smart-casual, beach, jeans—will that do?’

He nodded and got to his feet. ‘Sounds fine. I’ll get Ella’s stuff together and we’ll go. I’m not sure, but we might even be able to fly out today.’

‘Today!’

‘Is that a problem?’

She shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Not at all. The sooner the better. I was just surprised. I thought you said you were going tomorrow.’

‘I was, but today would be better and I seem to be unexpectedly free now,’ he added, that wry grin tugging at his mouth and making her want to hug him. ‘I’ll see what I can do. How soon can you be ready?’

She shrugged. ‘Half an hour? Twenty minutes, maybe?’

‘OK. I’ll call if there’s a problem. Don’t forget your passport—and your camera.’

‘In my bag. Just do one thing for me before you go. Get me out of this dress? I’d forgotten all the stupid buttons.’

She scrambled to her feet and turned her back to him, and he began undoing the million and one tiny satin buttons and loops that covered the zip underneath. And as he worked, button by button, he became suddenly, intensely aware of the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders, the fine line of her neck, the slender column of her throat. He could see a pulse beating under the skin at the side, and feel the tension coming off her. Off him, too, but for an entirely different reason. Crazy. This was Amy, for goodness’ sake! She was his childhood best friend, virtually his sister!

He finally freed the last button and slid the concealed zip down, and she caught the dress against her chest and turned to face him, a peep of cleavage above some transparent lacy undergarment taking him by surprise. He hauled his eyes up away from it, shocked by the sudden heat that flared through his body.

Really?

Amy?

He backed up a step. ‘OK now?’ he asked tersely, his throat tight.

‘Yes. Thank you. I’ll get changed and see you downstairs in a few minutes.’

‘Good. Wear something comfortable for travelling.’ Preferably something that covered her up. He backed away further, turning on his heel and reaching for the door handle, suddenly desperate to get out of there.

‘Leo?’

Her voice checked him and he turned and looked at her over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in question.

‘I’m starving. Grab some food to take with us, would you?’

Food? He laughed, letting some of the tension go. Food was easy. Food he could do.

‘Sure. See you in a bit.’

He called the catering manager on the way down the stairs, rang his mother to prime her and went into the kitchen.

Three pairs of eyes locked on him instantly. ‘How is she?’

‘She’ll do. Jill, can you help her get ready? I’m taking her to Tuscany with me and we’re leaving as soon as possible. I’m trying to get a flight this afternoon.’

‘Tuscany? Brilliant, it’s just what she needs.’ She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, Leo. Bless you. She’ll be ready.’

* * *

It was tight.

While he packed he rang the charter company he used from time to time, and found they had a small jet flying to Florence for a pick-up; he could hire the whole plane for the ‘empty leg’ rate, but it was leaving City Airport at three. And it was twelve forty already.

Tight, but doable, if she was ready to go. He rang to warn her, loaded the car in no time flat and drove straight round there, reaching the front door as Amy opened it.

‘I’m ready,’ she said, her smile a little forced in her pale face, her eyes still red-rimmed, but there was life in them now, unlike the blank eyes of the woman he’d walked down the aisle less than an hour ago. Sure, she was hanging by a thread, but she’d make it, especially once he’d got her out of here, and he was suddenly fiercely glad that he’d managed to convince her to come with him.

‘Got your passport?’

‘Yes, I’ve got everything. What’s the luggage limit?’

He smiled wryly. ‘There isn’t one. It’s a private charter.’

Her jaw dropped slightly. ‘Private—?’

He pushed her chin up gently with an index finger and smiled at her stunned expression. ‘It’s going on an empty leg to pick someone up—I’m only paying a fraction of the normal charge.’ Which was still extortionate, but she didn’t need to know that.

‘Wow. Great. OK.’ She turned to her mother, hugged her hard, hugged her bridesmaids and got in the car.

‘Thank you, Leo,’ Jill called, and he lifted a hand as he slid behind the wheel and closed the door.

‘Did you get food?’ Amy asked, and he leant over into the back and pulled out an insulated bag.

‘Here. You can feed me en route.’

‘Or I might just eat it all.’

‘Piglet. Buckle up,’ he instructed, but she was there already, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, the eyes that kept flicking to his filled with a welter of emotions that he couldn’t begin to analyse. He didn’t suppose she could, either, but there seemed to be a glimmer of something that could have been excitement.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back, but it was a fleeting parody of her usual open, happy smile, and he felt another sudden pang of guilt. What if it wasn’t excitement? What if it was hysteria? She was on a knife-edge, he knew that. Had he imposed his own feelings about marriage on her? Put doubts in her mind when they hadn’t really been there at all? He hoped not—even if Nick hadn’t been right for her, it wasn’t his call to sabotage their wedding.

‘You OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes—or I will be, just as soon as we get out of here.’

‘Let’s go, then,’ he said, and starting the engine he pulled smoothly off the drive and headed for London.

* * *

Amy had never flown in such luxury.

From start to finish, boarding the little jet had been a breeze. They’d driven right up to the Jet Centre terminal, their luggage and the baby’s car seat and buggy were handed over, and the car had been whisked away to secure parking. The security check-in was thorough but almost instant, and then they had a short walk to the plane.

At the top of the steps the pilot greeted them by name as he welcomed them aboard, gave them their ETA, a benign weather report and told them there was a car waiting for them at Florence. Then he disappeared through the galley area into the cockpit and closed the door, leaving them with the entire little jet to themselves, and for the first time she registered her surroundings.

‘Wow.’ She felt her jaw dropping slightly, and no wonder. It was like another world, a world she’d never entered before or even dreamed of.

There were no endless rows of seating, no central aisle barely wide enough to pass through, no hard-wearing gaudy seat fabric in a budget airline’s colours. Instead, there were two small groups of pale leather seats, the ones at the rear bracketing tables large enough to set up a laptop, play games, eat a meal, or simply flick through a magazine and glance out of the window. And Ella’s car seat was securely strapped in all ready for her.

Leo headed that way and she followed, the tight, dense pile of the carpet underfoot making her feel as if she was walking on air. Maybe she was? Maybe they’d already taken off and she just hadn’t noticed? Or maybe it was all part of the weird, dreamlike state she’d been in ever since she’d turned her back on Nick and walked away.

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she grabbed the back of one of the seats to steady herself and felt Leo’s hand at her waist, steering her to a seat at the back of the plane across the aisle from Ella’s.

‘Sit. And don’t argue,’ he added firmly.

She didn’t argue. She was beyond arguing. She just sat obediently like a well-trained Labrador, sinking into the butter-soft cream leather as her legs gave way, watching him while he strapped little Ella into her seat, his big hands gentle and competent as he assembled the buckle and clicked it firmly into place.

She hoped she never had to do it. It looked extraordinarily complicated for something so simple, and she was suddenly swamped with doubts about her ability to do this.