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‘Now she has.’
‘She is sorry for what happened, and concerned for you too.’
‘She doesn’t blame me?’ Tears that had been held firmly in check couldn’t be contained now. A big fat one was rolling down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away—but it was a pointless exercise, because when he answered her, when this usually distant, emotionally absent man spoke, the softness, the tenderness in his voice, was so unexpected, so laced with the right words, it lacerated her.
Not just what he said, but the fact that it was him saying it. ‘You have nothing to feel guilty for. You did nothing wrong, Caitlyn. Antonia knows that, and so must you.’
‘I do know that.’ She nodded, because now—hearing him say it, knowing Antonia had said it—finally she did.
‘I should have taken your first complaint more seriously…’
‘No!’ She shook her head, because that really was pointless. ‘It’s done now. I’m just glad that Antonia’s okay.’
‘She is. She said…’ His voice trailed off and Caitlyn frowned.
‘Said what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Oh, but it did to Caitlyn. But he shook his head, that part of the conversation clearly over. Which brought them to the next, and Lazzaro swallowed hard before he spoke again. ‘I owe you an explanation.’
‘You do?’
A muscle was pounding in his cheek, his face was moist with perspiration and his tongue moved to moisten dry lips. When that didn’t work, Caitlyn watched as he drained his drink in one gulp. She could almost feel his fight or flight response, knew that he might just stand up and walk out. Because she was feeling it too—was sitting there with her neck so rigid, her nerves so taut, that at any moment she could walk out too—just not go ahead with this appalling conversation.
Only Lazzaro didn’t get up and walk out. He sat there and faced it, and so too must Caitlyn.
‘After I offered you the job I found out you were Roxanne’s cousin. From that moment on…’
‘You were waiting for me to reveal my true colours?’
Bitter with regret, he nodded. ‘I didn’t want to like you, knew that I must never trust you…only more and more I did. When Roxanne came that day, told me about your legal battle when you hadn’t even mentioned it…’
‘What would you have done, Lazzaro?’
‘I would have helped.’
‘No.’ Caitlyn shook her head. ‘That would have proved to you that I was using you. My mother grew up in that house. Apart from a couple of years when she had me, she’s lived there all her life. She’s renovated it, decorated it, furnished it…’
‘You don’t have to explain…’
‘You’ve made it so that I do,’ Caitlyn pointed out. ‘It wasn’t about money—and it wasn’t even about the house. It was about her home. My mum offered to Cheryl to leave it in her will equally to both Roxanne and I…’
‘I misjudged you.’
‘You did.’
‘I have misjudged many things—you see, Roxanne and I…’
His hand tightened on the glass he was holding, and she wanted, how she wanted, to reach out and hold it, to comfort him, console him somehow as he served up his wretched past. Only it wasn’t her place any more.
Never had been her place, Caitlyn realised, because Lazzaro had seen to that.
Lazzaro had refused to let anyone in.
‘There was an incident,’ Lazzaro bravely started. ‘One that didn’t reach the newspapers. When he came to my office, I told Luca that I had arranged rehab for him, that I would stand by him so long as he made some attempt to sort himself out—only he wouldn’t go.’ His voice was surprisingly calm—resigned, even. ‘He just wouldn’t accept there was a problem—but everyone could see it. His drinking, the gambling—he had debts everywhere. I was running around cleaning up the messes he was leaving behind him, and I just couldn’t do it for ever…’
‘Of course you couldn’t.’ Caitlyn’s voice was strong. ‘He had to acknowledge it before he could get help…’ But that wasn’t the issue today, and they both knew it.
