Page 3 of The Heir

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Unable to wait for me to get to the end of the barrier, she rushes over to me and envelopes me in a huge hug.

“I love you,” she says.

I feel the backs of my eyes start to burn. I’m not going to cry. No, I’m not. I have no reason to cry. My life is good. I have everything the way I want it. I blink hard and the sensation goes away.

She takes my hands. Hers are warm and soft. Her beautiful eyes search my face anxiously. “Your hands are cold. Are you cold?”

I shake my head. I’m not lying. I’m not cold at all.

“Come,” she says, and leads me away. Outside, the sky is grey, and it is less warm than it was in Rome. Her blacked-out Mercedes is waiting. We pile into it and the car pulls away.

I turn to look at her. “Thank you for coming to pick me up. I didn’t expect you to.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. Are you?”

I nod and smile broadly so that she can stop worrying about me.

“What happened?”

I frown. How strange. The meeting with Dante feels as if it happened a long time ago. “He wanted me to move to Rome and for us to bring up the baby together.”

Her eyes become saucers. “What?”

“Yes, that was his grand plan.”

“Are you going to?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. He’s no good, Star.”

“People can change.”

“While he was talking with me, he had a naked woman waiting for him in his suite upstairs.”

Her hands drop into her lap. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. It’s not like I love him or anything. There were no promises made. It was just a one-night stand, pure and simple. He promised me fun and he kept his side of the bargain. I definitely had fun. It is completely my decision to have this baby. I knew I was going to do it on my own and that is fine by me. I just wanted to let him know so that I could move on knowing I had done the right thing. I’ve done it now and I’m good. All good.”

Star threads her fingers through mine. “For what it’s worth, I would have done exactly the same thing you have.”

“I know, Star. I know you would have.”

She beams at me. “It’ll be fun, you’ll see. This baby will have so much love poured on it, it won’t know what to do with it.”

I laugh. “It’s not a dog. It has to go to school, get a job when it is older, marry, and have its own kids so you’re not allowed to spoil it.”

“You’re not allowed to spoil it. I am,” she says smugly.

I squeeze her hand back. Maybe it’s going to be all right. I don’t need a man just to help me bring up a baby. I’ve got the best support system I could ever ask for.

Star’s phone rings. She looks at the screen. “Oh, it’s Cindy.” She hits accept and puts her on speaker.

“Is she there yet?” Cindy asks.

“Yup, got her here.”

“Is she all right?”

“I think so. Talk to her. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Cin,” I say cheerfully.

“Did you switch your phone off? I’ve been trying to call you for ages,” she complains.

“Yeah, it’s off. I haven’t switched it back on yet.”

“What did he say?”

“He wants us to bring up the baby together.”

“He did? Oh my God. That’s great,” she screams into my ear.

“I’m not bringing the baby up with him, Cin.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“Because he’s a terrible womanizer. Because he lives in Rome. Because I don’t like him. And finally, because I just don’t want to.”

“Right. Okay. Got it.”

“Listen, I’ll call you back a bit later when I get settled in, okay?”

“Okay. Speak later, babe.”

I look at Star and she opens her mouth. “Don’t say it, Star. Just don’t say it.”

She closes her mouth.

“Let’s talk about you. What’s going on with you?” I ask in a determined voice.

We spend the rest of the journey to my place talking about an author’s convention that she has to attend. It is an exciting thing for her, and I put my own thoughts back and concentrate on her. I am so proud of Star. How high she has flown since her first husband caged her.

Star asks if I want her to come in, but I tell her I need to be alone.

“Do you want to join Nikolai and me for dinner?”

“Thanks, but not tonight.”

She peers at me with concern. “Do you want me to come over and have dinner with you?”

“No, you go ahead and have a good time with your husband. I’m fine. I’m just tired. I’ll probably get a takeaway and go to bed early.”

“If you change your mind, call me, all right?”

I stretch my lips and smile broadly. “Okay. Thanks.”

She leaves and I go up to my apartment and close the front door. I take a deep breath. This is my life. These four walls. That whole thing with Dante was just a piece of fantasy. It is time to put it all behind me. Once and for all.

I go into my bedroom, strip naked, and walk to my bathroom. I switch on the shower and stand under it. The water is deliciously warm. I love being in the shower. The sensation of water washing away everything. Sometimes when I get stuck for ideas I stand under a hot stream of water and new inspiration comes flowing into my brain. Today my brain feels empty.

Numb.

The sobs come suddenly from somewhere deep inside me. At first I don’t even realize I’m crying. It is only when my whole body starts jerking with the strength of the sobs and my face is scrunched so tight that I recognize I am howling. I slide down the glass wall and slump on the floor. Water cascades down my body, bouncing on my head, my nose, my chin, dripping down my throat.

I don’t know why I’m crying.

I put it down to hormones. It’s hormones. Of course, it is. It’s not disappointment. Just hormones. The baby. The changes going on inside my body. Besides, I’m also tired. As if I have taken the world on my shoulders.

I’ll get out of the shower and have a nap. A nap will refresh me and put everything back into perspective.

Chapter 6

Rosa

I push open the glass door embossed with the bold black letters that spell out the name of the magazine, Mirabel. Entering the white and pink space, I nod to the receptionist sitting behind her glossy counter. There is a blue neon sign above her head that flashes out the magazine’s creed.

HAVE IT ALL

I dash into the lift just as the doors are closing, but regret it almost instantly. Someone in the lift is wearing a cloying sweet perfume that makes me want to retch. I really hope and pray morning sickness doesn’t become a big thing for me. I get off at the second floor and take the stairs.

As I enter my department, Mary Withers waves me over, calling out, “Morning, Rosa.” When I get closer, she drops her voice to a whisper. “The old dragon wants to see you in her lair right away. I have orders to tell you to go in before you become involved in anything else.”

Willa wants to see me first thing on Monday morning. I try to think what could have gone wrong and come up with nothing. “Hmmm. Do you know what she wants?”

She pulls a sour face. “Damned if I know.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll go see her now,” I say and head down the corridor. I really love my job as a fashion writer, and even Willa Smithton, my direct boss and the executive editor of Mirabel, cannot make me love it any less.

I pass my office and hurry next door to hers. I knock on the door. Her office is almost a duplicate of mine, except that it’s twice as large and has two windows in the back rather than just one.

“Enter,” her gravelly voice commands.

I open the door and stand just inside her office. “Mary said you wanted to see me.”

She lifts her head from the papers she is

reading and smiles. Willa is a woman of indeterminate age—she could be anything between forty-five and eighty. Nobody has dared ask.

“Well, it seems congratulations are in order.”

Congratulations? What on earth is she talking about? I allow my lips to stretch into a polite smile. “Er, what for?”

She is still smiling but her eyes are glittering. “It seems you have suddenly become the head honcho at our sister magazine in Rome.”

My jaw drops to the floor. “What?” I nearly shout.

“Yes. I received word early this morning. You could be the editor of Mirabel in Rome—that is, if you agree to take the job.”

Suddenly, I feel lightheaded. “I have to sit down,” I croak.

Willa waves towards one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Thank you.” The word editor swims around in my head as I sink into one of the winged chairs. I stare at her in shock. “Are you sure this is not some mistake or misunderstanding?”

“I don’t make mistakes,” Willa snaps.

“It’s just … Rome! I can’t believe it. It’s … it’s totally unexpected. I mean, editor. How? Why?” I snap my mouth shut. I’m babbling wildly and Willa hates even mild babbling.

Willa’s sharp little eyes regard me expressionlessly. “Yes, I did wonder if it was a mistake, but I spoke to the executive director in our head office in Milan.”

“But Rome though,” I repeat incredulously.

She sighs. “Yes, if you take away the strutting men, the whiny women, and triple parking, I suppose, it is a beautiful city. Lovely fountains.” She pauses. “There’s no doubt you’ll take the position, is there?”

“I’d certainly be a fool not to. Oh, my God, I’ll be living in Rome!”

“If you’re going to work there, you’d better live there too, don’t you think?” she remarks dryly.

“Unless this is some sort of dream?”

“Or a nightmare?”

My eyes widen with surprise.

“Surely, you don’t expect me to celebrate. You’re my best writer.” Her voice is grudging.

“Oh.”

She cracks a reluctant smile. “We’ll all miss you.”

“I’ll miss everyone too,” I say automatically, even though nothing could be further from the truth. Other than Mary, most of my colleagues are extremely competitive. They would quite cheerfully stick a knife in my back if it means getting ahead on the ladder of success.

“You won’t have time. You’ll be too busy putting your own stamp on that magazine.”

“It’s already pretty darned good, I suspect.” I shake my head. “Do you know how all this came about? What happened to the previous editor?”

“That information would fall under the realm of pure gossip.”

“Why me?

“Apparently, Angelo Ricci’s granddaughter is a big fan of yours. She loves your style—the wit and the humor. Reads everything you write.”

“She is?” I gasp. Angelo Ricci is the billionaire owner of Mirabel. His granddaughter is a fan of my work!

“At least that’s what I’ve been told. Once the position opened, she persuaded her grandfather that you were the one for the job.”

“Which one of his granddaughters?” I ask curiously.

“Gina Ricci.”

I shake my head to clear it. I think I’m too stunned to think. Gina Ricci is a beautiful socialite butterfly. I had no idea she even read, let alone my column. “Wow! This is all too much to take in. When am I supposed to start?”

“Next week, from what I understand.”

“Next week! But there’s so much to do.”

“You could always refuse the job,” she says slyly.

“Are you kidding? I’d kill for this job.”

The button on her phone blinks and she waves her hand. “Well, you better get on with your day. I still need that Ten Sex Tips article from you.”

I jump up from my chair. “Thank you, Willa. Thank you. You’ll have the article by tonight.”

I walk straight over to Mary’s desk.

“Will you pinch me, Mary?”

“What?”

“Pinch me,” I order with a laugh.

“Why?”

“I want to know if I’m dreaming.”

“All right,” she says and pinches me hard.

“Ouch,” I yelp and look at her with a surprised, wounded expression.

“There you go. You’re not dreaming, and I’m just a little bit envious about why I’m having to pinch you after you’ve been in the dragon’s lair.”

I grin. “A little?”

“Okay. A lot. Now, what the bleeding fuck happened in there?”

Chapter 7

Rosa

The rest of the day passes in a blur. I’m in such an excited state, I hardly know what I’m doing. On the way out I decide to treat myself to a taxi, even though I live only a few blocks away. Once home, I kick off my shoes, shuck off my jacket, and without even bothering to hang it in the downstairs closet, I pick up my phone and head over to my couch. I curl up and FaceTime Star.

“You’ll never guess what,” I said when she comes on.

“Judging by your expression it must be brilliant news.”

“Unbelievably brilliant,” I tell her, as I lean my head back against the buttery softness of the old leather. I’m so going to miss this sofa in Rome. “They want me as editor of the Italian arm of the magazine. I’m going to Rome!”

“What? You’re kidding!” she screams.

“No, I’m not.”

Her reply is to leave the phone on its holder, fly off the sofa, and start doing a crazy dance all around the room. All I catch is her body zipping past.

Grinning at her antics, I shout out, “Stop that and come back here.”

She comes back laughing. “I want to know everything.”

“When I got to work this morning, Mary told me the dragon wanted to see me right away. Naturally, I thought I was in trouble, but Willa gives me this news.”

“It’s so incredible. This is what you have dreamed of all your life. Remember when we were kids and you told everybody that one day you were going to be the editor of a magazine in France or Italy.”

I chew on my lower lip. “Uh huh. I remember.”

“So how long is it for?”

“I don’t know all the details. The contract is being couriered over to me tomorrow from Milan. If I accept I’m supposed to leave next week.”

Her voice drops an octave. “If I accept? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m crazy excited about the prospect, but something is bugging me.”

Her forehead creases. “It’s not the baby, is it?”

“No.”

She sits cross-legged and leans her chin on her knee. “Then what problem can keep you away from Rome, the most romantic city in the world, well, apart from Venice in spring, of course?”

“That’s part of the problem. Maybe the biggest problem of all.”

“What on earth are you going on about?”

I push my hair away from my neck. Even thinking about him makes me hot. “In a word, Dante.”

She grins. “Dante? Your playboy.”

I roll my eyes. “Not my playboy, Star. Definitely not mine.”

“Fine, but quite honestly, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“He lives there with his one thousand and one girlfriends, Star.”

“I know that, but he’s the father of your child, and you really should start getting to … know him better.” Her expression is serious, but her eyes are twinkling.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, obviously.”

I sigh. “It would be a totally different matter if I was not up the duff. Now I’m going to be in Rome with the job of my dreams, the man who terrifies me, and I’m going to have a baby. I’m worried about juggling the three things in a foreign land. I won’t even have mum at hand to help out.”

“Haven?

?t you heard of nannies, Rosa?”

“I can’t get my head around the idea of entrusting my newborn baby to a total stranger. Haven’t you seen the You Tube video of women abusing the children in their care? Actually, I’m freaking out just thinking about it now.”

“I love you, Rosa, but you’re crazy. Why are we even having this conversation now? The baby is not here yet. Plus, didn’t Dante say he wanted to play a bigger part in bringing up his child?”

“Hand my baby over to that Casanova? No way. He’s a complete animal.” I have a sudden image of the way he growled while he ate me out. Heat spreads through my body. I scowl at the phone as I burn that image away. “He’s almost uncivilized. I bet he has pineapple on his pizza.”

She giggles. “Oh, don’t.”

“And he probably doesn’t know how to use a semi-colon.”

She laughs. It’s a pet hate of hers. “Seriously though, the baby is months away. You never know what could happen in the future. Why don’t you go try the job out? If you don’t like it, or change your mind you can always come back.”

“I guess so,” I concede.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. So why are you still frowning?”

“I’m thinking of the usual things, I suppose. You know—moving from one country to another. All the red tape. All the little details. What to do with my apartment.”

“Whether to keep it or not?” she asks.

“Well, I certainly don’t want to move all my furniture to Italy. And things like dishes, linens, you know. Willa told me the place I’ll be living is entirely furnished so what do I do with all my things? Should I sublet my place here? Should I put my things in storage? Should I keep the flat just in case …”

“Well,” she says reasonably, “why not do nothing for a couple of months until you decide for sure? I can keep everything ticking along for you.”

“But everything has to be done quickly. I don’t know if it’s possible to do everything in the time I have.”

“You’re leaving that soon?” Star sounds surprised.

“Next week.”

“Oh,” she says and swallows hard.


Tags: Georgia Le Carre Romance