‘Obviously you will need some baby items here,’ Antonio continued. ‘If you make a list, I will make sure they arrive by this evening.’
‘This evening?’ She shook her head in amazement. ‘Do you have a magic wand?’
‘No, just a magic chequebook.’ He flashed her a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Just let me know what you need.’
The next few hours were a blur of activity as they returned to Antonio’s apartment and packed up her and Ella’s things. She gave him her list, instinctively trying to keep the number of items down, but Antonio barely looked at it before pocketing it.
‘Let me know if you need anything else,’ he said. He’d given her a top-of-the-line smartphone and entered several numbers into its contacts—his office, his private line, his mobile. Despite the phone numbers, she didn’t feel he was particularly accessible, at least not in the way she wanted.
And so, just a few hours after seeing the pretty villa, Maisie found herself standing in her new home, Ella in her arms, her suitcases by her feet as Antonio’s driver closed the door on her. Home sweet home. Here she was.
Taking a deep breath, she told herself not to feel lonely or uncertain or afraid—basically all the things she was feeling—and to start making the villa feel like home.
After feeding Ella, she put her down for a nap on the king-sized bed, surrounded by pillows. Thankfully Ella couldn’t roll over yet, and so Maisie was sure she’d be safe.
While her daughter slept, she unpacked her belongings—two suitcases and her violin was all she had, so it didn’t take long. She pottered about in the kitchen and explored the garden, the air warm and dry, scented with flowers, the sun shining high above. Really, this was paradise. Right now, though, it was a bit lonely in paradise.
When Ella woke up, Maisie took her out to the garden, laying her on a blanket underneath the fig tree she’d seen earlier from the window. She tilted her head up to the sun and closed her eyes as Ella gurgled beside her. Slowly, she felt herself start to relax. Life here could be good.
Perhaps later she would put Ella in her stroller and explore the village, find out if there were any baby groups to join. She’d make friends; she’d figure out a way. She just had no idea what part, whether small or large, Antonio would play in her life...or what part she wanted him to have.
The sound of a car pulling up in front of the villa had Maisie springing up from the blanket. Had Antonio come back? Why did that thought make her feel so hopeful, so excited?
But it wasn’t Antonio; it was a delivery man bringing in package after package, the items arriving mere hours after she’d given Antonio the list.
Maisie laid Ella on a blanket in the living room while she began to open the parcels and packages. It felt better than Christmas, a feast for the senses, as she opened a top-of-the-range cot along with pink flannel sheets and an embroidered duvet, a high chair, a bouncy chair, a car seat, a musical mobile and a whole host of toys, blankets and other baby accessories. Maisie felt overwhelmed.
Ella was starting to fuss so she decided to leave all the toys and equipment and go for a walk. She hoped the village had a shop, because the house was empty of any food.
The day was still warm even though it was late afternoon, and with Ella in her stroller Maisie spent a happy hour wandering the ancient, narrow streets of the little village. She happened upon a tiny shop that sold all sorts of delicious food and stocked up on mozzarella, tomatoes and basil, enjoying the scent and texture of the fresh fruits and vegetables and doing her best to mime her needs to the smiling, apple-cheeked woman behind the till. By the time she started back, Ella was ready for her next feed and the sky was starting to turn violet at the edges.
‘Where have you been?’
The ringing, accusatory tone had Maisie freezing as she turned up the drive of the villa. Antonio stood by the front door, a chauffeur-driven limo parked in front. He looked thunderous and far too attractive, having shed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Everything about him radiated power and authority as well as blatant sex appeal.
‘I went out for a walk,’ Maisie said, striving to sound cool rather than apologetic. ‘I didn’t realise I had to tell you all my movements.’
‘I’ve been waiting here for the better part of an hour. You didn’t think to take your phone?’
‘I didn’t realise it was meant to be a tracking device.’ Maisie slipped by Antonio and unlocked the front door as he dismissed his driver. She unbuckled Ella from her stroller and went inside. ‘She needs to be fed,’ she said shortly. Antonio watched, still looking annoyed, as Maisie settled herself in one of the squashy armchairs in the living room and started to feed Ella. She could feel the tension and anger simmering in him, and didn’t fully understand it. Did he expect her to be at his beck and call? Was that how this was going to be?
‘Why did you come by, anyway?’ she asked, and realised belatedly how ungracious she sounded, especially after all the things Antonio had arranged to be sent to the villa.
‘To see my daughter,’ Antonio said, his voice as short as hers had been. ‘And to help put the cot together.’
‘Oh.’ Now she felt guilty for being so hostile, but why had he been so hostile? ‘Thank you,’ she said after a pause. ‘But Antonio, I have to confess that you confuse me. At times you seem so kind and interested, and at other times...’ She gestured to the space between them, helpless to explain. ‘If this has any chance of working, we need to establish some kind of system or ground rules. A way to get along without everything turning into a battle. Otherwise I think I might go a little bit crazy.’
* * *
Antonio stared at Maisie, her expression one of open, sympathetic appeal, and tried to suppress the guilt and irritation coursing through him. The truth was, he hadn’t had a good reason to show up only hours after Maisie had settled into her new home, except that he knew he wanted to see her as well as Ella.
But instead of the happy, cheerful scene he’d envisioned of his putting together the cot and maybe even staying for supper, everything had turned to tension and hostility and suspicion. Why should he even be surprised?
‘You’ve ruined this family, Antonio.’
Even now he could see his mother’s grief-ravaged face and felt the familiar twist in his gut. But that was in the past, and this—Ella—was his future. He couldn’t give up on her. He wouldn’t.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t mean to be confusing. This is new for me, Maisie, just as it is for you. I’ve never...’ He paused, sifting through his words as well as his emotions. ‘I’ve never had a child before obviously, but neither have I had a serious relationship of any kind.’ He shrugged. ‘You know my history nearly as well as I do, I suspect.’