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‘Daddy, Daddy...’ he’s already racing off ‘... Aunty Liv told Mum to shut up!’
Fee throws her hands in the air. ‘God, what I’d give for some privacy in this house!’
‘You love it really,’ I say.
She looks at me, her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes bright. ‘Wouldn’t change it for the world, sis. Now, you need to go and get your man.’
‘It’s waited two weeks; it can wait a night at least.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘No. Not really.’
‘Go. There’ll be more Sunday dinners, but something tells me there’s only one Valentine Boretti.’
My smile trembles on my lips as my eyes well up again. ‘Thank you, sis.’
‘Any time.’
I hug her again, then head for the door. ‘Sorry, Pete, kids, Aunty Liv is on a mission, but I’ll see you again very soon.’
And I’m out through the door, racing to my car and to his place at a speed he would approve of, even if every second feels like an eternity. I’m desperate, so very desperate to tell him how I feel. To tell him how sorry I am that I lied. To tell him everything.
So desperate that it takes me several attempts to get my words out straight when I arrive at his apartment building and need to ask the security guard for access to the underground car park. The very same security guard that likely witnessed our extracurricular activity the other night—oh, God, that really doesn’t help.
‘I’m sorry, say that again. Who are you here to see?’
Okay, so if he did witness it, he isn’t making any show of it.
I take a calming breath. ‘Valentine Boretti.’
He nods. ‘I think Mr Boretti is away at the moment. Let me just check for you.’
My fingers dance over the steering wheel, my entire body doing a crazy little jig in the driver’s seat.
Please be home, please be home, please—
‘I’m afraid there’s no answer. I think he’s been away a few days now.’
‘Dammit!’ I slap the steering wheel, startling the guard, and quickly throw him an apologetic smile. ‘Any idea where he might be?’
He shakes his head, his smile sympathetic. ‘I’m afraid we’re not privy to that information. You could try calling him?’
‘Yes, of course.’
I hardly want this conversation over the phone though and after how I treated him...there’s no guarantee he’ll even answer. No. I have to see him. Face to face.
I reverse back out of the entrance and think. There must be some way of finding out where he is...
Someone who will know...or at least be able to find out...
Valentine
When I decided to come to Paris and deal with Autumn Beckham directly rather than having one of my employees do it, I foolishly used it as a reason to escape London and the tempting proximity of Olivia.
It was pretty clear after Alan received my report that Olivia wasn’t about to chase me down and tell me she was wrong, and I’ve had to accept it.
Only I haven’t.
