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Maya compressed her lips. Five minutes ago the news had come that everyone had arrived and, with it, the gentle suggestion that it was not done to keep royalty waiting was left hanging in the air. She had felt a clenched fingernail away from total panic.
Fortunately, her mood had moved on. She no longer felt like hiding in a cupboard, she felt like hitting someone—all right, not someone, just the one person who had let her down, abandoned her to her fate, after he hadpromisedto be there with her.
Just as her dad had promised he’d be back to watch her in the Christmas nativity play, but he hadn’t come back, had he? They’d told her that he wouldn’t be coming back, ever, but she had refused to believe them. She’d sat on the window seat looking down into the street, sure that his car would appear, totally sure because he had promised... Finally she’d fallen asleep and someone had put her to bed.
She’d waited the next day and the next but he’d never come.
She’d never forgotten the feeling, and all her life she’d been guided by a determination never to experience it again, until Samuele!
Even as she embraced her anger she knew it would eventually ebb and she’d just be left alone again.
There was a tentative tap on the door and the person who appeared in response to hercome inrevealed breathlessly, ‘The royal party has arrived.’
‘I’ll be right there.’ She knew etiquette meant she as hostess should have been there to greet them...but, thanks to her experience on San Macizo, ironically royalty was one of the few things that didn’t spook her about tonight. The same could not be said for everything else.
‘Right then, Rosa, he’s a no-show so let’s do this.’ She glanced at herself in the mirror, and decided she looked like a cross between an old-fashioned Southern belle and a lampshade. ‘But no, not in this meringue of a dress. Help me out of it, will you, Rosa?’
A wide-eyed Rosa obliged, helping Maya to slip into her second choice for tonight, which had actually been her first choice before she’d doubted herself.
Five minutes later she looked at her reflection in the same mirror and a very different Maya looked back, a much more edgy, sexy Maya.
The pretty froth of pale lemon tulle was gone, and in its place was a scarlet full-length silk slip dress; simple and dramatic, it clung lovingly to the curves of her body.
She had added a dash of old red lipstick on top of the frosted gloss she had previously applied and it didn’t take much to intensify the grey eyeshadow she wore to give it a smoky effect.
If she’d had time she would have put her hair down again, but while she had pretended an indifference to the waiting royalty, she was aware that she really didn’t have time to hang around, so her hair would have to stay in the classic chignon that it had been tamed into, emphasising the length of her slender neck.
She stood poised at the top of the stairs underneath the spotlight of a chandelier, conscious of a sea of eyes looking up at her, her heart thudding frantically. There was a split second when she wanted to pick up her skirts and run away as fast as she could.
Then she focused on one face, she had no idea who it was, but blanking out the rest worked. She got down the stairs, and the rest was a blur. She parried the obvious questions about Samuele’s absence without actually giving a straight answer, but luckily most people didn’t seem to realise it until she had moved on.
Every lie and prevarication had only built the resentful head of steam that was choking her. Perhaps he was making a blatant point that her importance in his life came way below a bunch of statues?
Her homework on the collection paid off; she was able to give intelligent responses to several questions. There were a few speeches, people said complimentary things about the evening and her...and then she was told it was her turn.
‘What?’ she whispered frantically to Diego, who had pretty much been her shadow all evening.
‘Well, officially it is—’
‘Samuele’s turn,’ she bit out.
Diego gave her an understanding look. ‘There is no need for you to do it. I could make a small speech apologising—’
She was tempted—oh, my, but she wassotempted to let him do that—but she shook her head. ‘No, that’s fine, I can do this.’
‘I’ll introduce you, shall I?’
‘That would be good, thank you, Diego.’
She actually had no idea in the world what she was going to say until she started.
‘I’m sure you’re all wondering where Samuele is—well, so am I!’
She paused for the ripple of laughter, which came satisfyingly on cue. Sometimes the truth worked better than a lie. Samuele didn’t ever explain himself to anyone, so why should she do so in his absence?
‘The fact we are here tonight is a testament to one man’s determination and single-minded vision, not to preserve this collection, but to celebrate it. Because the past is an organic living thing, which has shaped all our presents and our futures...’
She sensed Diego, who up until that point had looked ready to stage a face-saving intervention, relax. And she continued to speak.
