After Meghan’s next client came in, Cristiano put a hand beneath Alice’s elbow and led her out of the salon. ‘Nice kid.’
‘Yes...’
And I’m going to make her drink boiling-hot wax when I get back.
‘She’s very enthusiastic.’
‘I should probably warn you there will be paparazzi hanging—uh oh, too late.’ His hand on her elbow shifted to go around her waist when a cluster of people with cameras and recording devices surged towards them. ‘Let me handle it.’
Alice stood in the circle of his arm and listened to him give a brief interview about their whirlwind romance. He was scarily good at lying. No one would ever think he wasn’t in love with her. What her mother was going to say about their engagement was something that was niggling at Alice’s conscience. She hadn’t yet called her to give her the heads up. She’d been delaying it because she had been so preachy about her mother’s multiple marriages. She hadn’t attended the last one on principle. How was her mother going to react to this news?
‘We’d like to hear a comment from the blushing bride,’ a female journalist said, pushing the recording device towards Alice. ‘Your reputation as the go-to girl for wedding make-up is on the up and up. Does this mean you’ll expand the business into Italy and beyond or will you be keen to start a family?’
Ali
ce blithely ignored the slight pressure increase from Cristiano’s fingers and painted on a bright smile. Why should she let him answer for her? She wasn’t a ventriloquist’s puppet. He might have cornered her in private, but in public, well, that was where she could win a few points back. ‘We’re going to get started on the baby-making right away, aren’t we, darling?’
His eyes sent her a warning. ‘I’d like a little bit of time with you all to myself first.’
After the press moved on, Cristiano took her firmly by the hand and led her down the street. ‘What the hell were you playing at?’
Alice threw him a glance that could have cut through plate glass. ‘Why do women get asked such ridiculous questions? Why didn’t that journalist ask you if you were going to give up your career to start a family? Why are women always expected to give up everything they’ve worked so hard for?’
His mouth was pulled tight. ‘I’m not asking you to have a child, for God’s sake, Alice. All I’m asking is for six months of your time.’
‘I can’t believe women still have to put up with this crap,’ Alice said. ‘It’s no one’s business but mine if I want a baby.’
‘Presumably it would also be your partner’s business.’
Alice sent him a sideways glance but his expression gave little away. ‘Do you plan on having a family with...with someone else after we’re—?’
‘No.’
‘But you were so keen—’
‘It’s not something I envisage for myself now.’
Why? Because I ruined your dream of happy families?
Alice didn’t like the feeling she’d been the one to change his mind. He would make a wonderful father. Why would he give up that dream of having a family of his own? He had so much to offer a child. Stability. Security. Love. She stopped walking and glanced at him again. ‘Did I make you change your mind?’
His eyes met hers for a brief moment before he looked away and continued walking in long purposeful strides. ‘We’re going to be late for the lawyer if we don’t step on it.’
Alice blew out a breath and trotted alongside him. ‘I’m a career woman. So shoot me.’
A career woman with a vague sense of something missing...
* * *
Cristiano led her into the lawyer’s office where they dealt with the business of signing the prenuptial agreements. It was all so cold and clinical it made Alice feel uncomfortable, as if she was breaking some sort of taboo. What about, What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours? It was contrary of her to be feeling so piqued because she had her own financial interests to protect, but still it made her wonder, if she had married Cristiano seven years ago, whether he would have insisted on drawing up such a clinical agreement.
The lawyer brought their meeting to a close with the news that a lump sum as promised in the will would be deposited in Alice’s bank account now her engagement to Cristiano was official. The money did not have to be refunded if the engagement came to an end as in the marriage not taking place, which was a surprising footnote to Alice.
It was a large sum of money, enough to pay a decent deposit on new premises plus some, if not half, of the mortgage. She found it hard to understand why Volante Marchetti had stipulated that particular clause. Or had his grandmother known Alice would think twice about walking away with such a large amount of money without seeing the whole arrangement through?
When they were leaving the lawyer’s office Alice got a call from her mother. She looked at the caller ID and grimaced. ‘Hi, Mum, I was about to call you—’
‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ her mother said loud enough for Cristiano to hear. Possibly the whole street. ‘My daughter—the daughter who swore she would never ever get married—is now getting married?’