Page 94 of The Bodyguard

Enrico smiles and tosses the towel he was holding over his shoulder as he starts to clear away my empty plates. “It’s an old family recipe. My grandmother’s. She’ll be up there…” He raises his eyes skyward for a second or two, “… watching me, making sure I follow it to the letter.”

“Well, I can only assume that your grandmother was an amazing cook.”

“She was. She’s the reason I wanted to be a chef, all those memories of standing next to her, on this little wooden stool she got my grandfather to make especially for me, so I could reach the counter, and watch her cook. She taught me so much.” He shrugs and smiles again, his deep, dark eyes crinkling at the edges. “There was only one thing I wanted to do with my life, after that. Are you having dessert?”

“God, no! I’ve eaten more than enough, I don’t think I have room for anything else.”

“That’s a shame, because, I’m about to make fresh churros with three different chocolate dips.”

“You’re not going to make me weaken, I have a lot of willpower.”

He sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Your loss. Because I make the best churros.”

“I’m sure you do,” I laugh, reaching for my purse. “But, for now, I’ll just have the check.”

“No. Not today.” He waves my request away with the flick of his towel. “Today, lunch is on me.”

“No, Enrico…”

“No arguments. Just say you’ll come to our barbecue tonight. At the villa.”

Enrico and his brother have been so kind to me, since I arrived here on Ibiza. And I know their sister has just flown in from Portugal for a visit, hence the barbecue, and it would be lovely to meet her, too, but I can’t help feeling like I’d be intruding, somehow. I’ve only known them a handful of days, it seems a little soon to be attending family barbecues.

“You look like you don’t want to come.” Enrico frowns, and I smile and shake my head.

“No, it isn’t that, it’s just…”

“This isn’t just a party for Rosa. It isn’t a family get-together, there will be a lot of people there, Lena. People who would love to meet you.”

And I know it would be good to have a circle of friends here, yet, at the same time, there’s a part of me that just wants to be alone. I still have a lot to think about.

“You can trust us, Lena.”

I smile again, and relax my shoulders a little. “I know I can. It isn’t that… Oh, what the hell. I’d love to come.”

He grins and picks up my empty glass. “Then we’ll see you this evening. We’ll be firing up the barbecue around seven.”

I watch him walk back inside and sigh quietly. I’m still not sure I should be going, still not sure I want to, but maybe it would be good for me. I just can’t help wondering if they’d be so keen to have me as a friend if they knew who my family were. What they did. And then I give my head a shake and stand up, grabbing my purse from the table as I make my way along the street, towards the harbour.

It's a fairly long walk back to my rented cliffside home, but it’s also an incredibly picturesque route. And that walk gives me time to think, because every opportunity I have to do that, I grab it with both hands. I can pretend that everything’s fine and I’m just here on holiday, like my family are choosing to believe, but I’m not. So, yeah, I like this walk. And I love my temporary home. Overlooking the ocean, the harbour and the island of Formentera, it’s surrounded by a pedestrianised zone, there’s no traffic noise, which means it’s a wonderfully peaceful place that feels a lot more isolated than it actually is. Which is perfect. And the roof terrace with its three-sixty-degree views means I get to see the sun set every evening and watch it rise again in the morning. I could honestly stay here forever, but I probably won’t. I’ll move on, soon, once I work out exactly what I’m doing with my life.

I stop at a small grocery store on the way home, after remembering I was out of bread and cheese, but as I finally fish my keys out of my pocket and slide them into the lock, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool, shaded hallway, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s good to get out of the sun for a little bit.

Taking the groceries into the kitchen – which has huge glass doors on both sides leading out onto two separate terraces – I take a second to look out over the view. The dining area looks out over the harbour, the other side has the view of the ocean and the island of Formentera, and for a moment I just let the fact that I’m here, in this beautiful place, sink in. Maybe I should settle somewhere like this, buy myself a place, just like this. Could I afford it? Without my father’s money to help me? Yeah. Possibly. I have my own savings, that was something our parents always instilled in both Ollie and I. We needed to have our own money, but in reality, was that really what it was? Our own money? When the majority of it came from Dad’s business? All aspects of it. Does that make it dirty money? Possibly, in Ollie’s case, but I ran a legitimate business. My money comes guilt free… No. I’m not sure I’ll ever be guilt free. And Nielsen Construction never was and never will be one-hundred-per-cent legitimate, I know that now. I knew it before, in reality, I just didn’t want to admit it. I come from a family that will stop at nothing to win, using whatever means, no matter what. How did I turn a blind eye to that for so long…?

I’m stopped from heading down that particular rabbit hole by the doorbell ringing. Not many people know I’m here, and I’m not expecting any visitors, and for a second all that wariness that comes with being brought up within an organised crime family kicks in, and I’m instantly on my guard. Have my fucking family been watching me? Following me? Jesus, how fucking naïve have I been…? Did I really think this was going to be as easy as just walking away?

I drop my head and close my eyes, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter, and the doorbell rings out again. Am I just overreacting, maybe? It could be one of the neighbours, a delivery driver with a package for someone who isn’t home just wanting to know if I’ll take it in, it could be a number of things. I’m just being paranoid.

Making my way back out into the hall, I take a deep breath and slide the chain on first before I open the door just wide enough to see who’s there. And as soon as I see him… well, everything I thought I was paranoid about just a few seconds ago, I was right. I was fucking right.

“What do you want, Ollie?”

“I want you to let me in. Come on, Lena, I need to talk to you. And before you say anything, yeah, I would’ve done it over the phone but you changed your number. And Dad had a bit of a problem trying to get hold of your new one.”

“Jesus Christ,” I sigh, pulling the chain back and, reluctantly, letting my brother in. Not because I want to, it would just be pointless fighting this.

“I’m here to give you a heads-up, okay?”

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