Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

‘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.