Now was not the time to try and work it all out, not in a reception hall filled with industry bigwigs all wanting to shake hands, exchange stories and assert individual dominance. There was a convivial atmosphere, however, as rivalries were set aside for the night, at least superficially.
The Moretti table was situated directly before the main stage and thus in the glare of the majority of the video cameras. Anna kept her head held high as they joined the executives and company nominees who’d been invited to join them on this prestigious night, pretending not to see the curious glances being flashed her way.
Only one member of the UK board was in attendance, the rest from Sweden, Japan and America. She knew with one look that they all knew exactly what had happened in that boardroom. And they knew she had received her P45 for gross misconduct the very next day and had had no contact with any member of staff or with her husband...
Until the morning she’d woken with a bang on her head and her memories wiped.
And now, she remembered...
It explained everything. All the stares she’d received, Chloe’s appropriation of her desk, Stefano’s anger...
She remembered everything.
Everything.
Oh, how she wished she hadn’t. Ignorance had been more than bliss; it had been an escape from the unbearable agony that had become her life.
Stefano put his hand on hers. Her veins turned to ice and she fought not to snatch it away. He whispered something in her ear and she fought not to flinch.
She made sure to keep a smile on her face and play the role of the happy wife. It was the greatest role she’d ever had to play.
When Moretti’s was given its third award of the night and Stefano took to the stage with the innovative hipster who’d been the brains behind it, she clapped as hard as everyone else.
Her pride would not allow her to show publicly that her heart had been irreversibly broken.
But she couldn’t keep it together for ever.
Not long after the halfway point of the evening she rose from the table.
Stefano grabbed her wrist. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To the Ladies’.’
‘Can’t you wait?’ His nostrils were flared, his jaw clenched.
‘What?’ She snatched her hand away. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
As she hurried her way through the tables she became aware that shocked faces were staring at her. Voices at every table she approached dropped to a hushed whisper and there was a furious tapping of phone screens accompanied by more shocked faces.
Fortunately the ladies’ room was empty. She wished there were a window she could crawl out of but if all she could have was a few moments to compose herself then she would take that.
Sucking in some deep breaths, she pressed powder to her white cheeks and fixed her eyeliner and lipstick, then took some more deep breaths for luck and left her brief sanctuary.
The stares and whispers were even more pronounced now. There was still a handful of awards left to be given but Stefano had risen from their table and was taking great strides towards her.
‘We need to go,’ he said, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her to the exit.
‘It??s not finished yet.’ As much as she longed to escape the stares, protocol dictated that everyone should stay to the bitter end.
He didn’t answer or slow his pace. If anything he moved faster.
If he could get her out of the hotel and into his car before the press noticed them, Stefano knew he had a chance. A chance to explain himself before Anna learned of the bomb he’d detonated.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse since their arrival. Thick droplets of rain were falling and the breeze had picked up.
They almost made their escape. The press were too busy huddled together in little clusters, staring at their phones, chattering frenziedly among themselves, to notice the couple slipping out half an hour early or the gathering storm around them.
But then a driver got out of a yellow cab and called out loudly, ‘Anna Moretti?’ and with a violent curse, Stefano knew he was too late.