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in the same room as him. Her stomach had been in knots. Regret. Desire. Attraction. Guilt. The weight of her feelings had been impossible to manage. She’d avoided him neatly for the rest of the day and into the evening, though she’d braced to see him again today.
His not being here was a reprieve, and she was glad for it, she told herself, even as the day stretched towards the evening and she knew he still hadn’t returned. She told herself the ache inside her stomach had everything to do with guilt at having obliterated the last hold of Thom from her body, and nothing to do with wanting Rafaello again. She’d broken a silent pledge she’d made herself and something about that had renewed a kernel of grief in her belly.
In the evening, when Yaya was taking tea with Maddie and Nico, Lauren slipped out into the citrus grove and sat on the warm, thick grass, breathing in the fragrance of the trees in all their heady glory before reaching for her phone and dialling Ashley’s number. She generally spoke to Thom’s mother a few times a month, and it had been a several weeks between calls now.
“Hello?”
More emotions flared inside Lauren as Ashley’s familiar voice crossed from England and into Europe and landed square in Lauren’s heart.
“Hey,” she cleared her throat, tears inexplicably moistening her eyes. “How are you?”
“Oh, dearest, how wonderful to hear from you. I’ve been thinking you must be busy, not to have called.”
“Yes,” Lauren nodded, as a tear slid down her cheek. She dashed it away, her eyes narrowing at what looked to be a drone in the distance.
“Your mother said you’re in Italy?”
“Mmm,” she agreed, plucking a blade of grass between her fingertip and thumb.
“Somewhere lovely?”
As it drew closer, Lauren saw that it wasn’t a drone, but a helicopter, dark black in colour. Her eyes followed it lazily, an easy target against the twilight sky.
“It’s very beautiful here, but I’m working,” she responded stiffly. “I don’t have any time for sightseeing.”
She heard Ashley’s faint sigh through the phone line. “You’re always working.”
The helicopter drew lower, perhaps a tourist chopper, admiring the expansive Tuscan views.
Lauren ran the blade of grass over her upper lip but stopped when the light touch somehow made her think of Rafaello.
“Perhaps when your contract finishes you could spend a bit of time in Rome. You always wanted to go there, didn’t you?”
Lauren’s eyes squeezed shut. “With Thom,” she said thinly.
Another small sigh. “But surely it was your dream too? For you?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Dearest,” Ashley’s hesitation showed that she was choosing her words with care. “Think about what you want from life, won’t you?”
Lauren stubbornly wiped at another tear. “I’m fine, Ash. Honestly, this is just another job. It just so happens to be in Tuscany.”
“Tuscany!” Ashley enthused. “How glorious. I insist you find some time to stomp grapes and roll down hills.”
Lauren smiled, imagining doing exactly that – the sense of freedom would be incredible.
“I’ll try.” The helicopter was loud now, right overhead. She turned to watch as it came lower, and then her heart slammed into her ribs. From this distance, she could see who was behind the controls – Rafaello. He wore a headset and dark sunglasses, but as if he sensed her, he turned in her direction so a frisson of awareness rushed the length of her spine.
“Tell me about home,” she implored Ashley, needing, more than anything to feel a connection to the small village south of London where she’d grown up.
Twenty minutes later, Lauren felt somewhat more centred, but the sensation was only temporary. Walking back into the villa with the intention of checking on Yaya once more before bed, she bumped straight into Raf, literally bouncing right off his chest. She would have flown backwards if his reactions weren’t so quick, snaking a hand out and catching her before she could fall.
She opened her mouth to say something cutting but realised, belatedly, that they weren’t alone. Nico Montebello was beside him, a relaxed expression on his handsome face.
“Hey, Lauren, isn’t it?”
“Yes, hi,” she pulled out of Raf’s grip quickly, wiping her hands down her jeans as if to erase any semblance of Raf’s touch.
