Page 258 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

His heart contracted then pulsed with ice that spread into his every crevice.

Fingers digging into the mahogany of his desk, Marcello inclined his head and, through a smile he had to use imaginary marionette strings to pull off, said, ‘Do you know what you are going to buy her?’

‘We did but her leaving means we need to rethink it.’

‘She likes to wear rose-gold jewellery. Do you have a card for her?’ he added in case Ryan was tempted to ask how Marcello knew the kind of jewellery Victoria liked to wear. He wouldn’t have been able to answer. It was just something he knew.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Bring it to me to sign and send me the report, and then you and Cate can leave. Take the day.’

Ryan’s eyes widened again.

‘And, Ryan?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘If I have to tell you one more time not to address me as sir, I will open up recruitment for the role.Capisce?’

Ryan gave an uncertain smile and nod.

‘Bene.If you ever meet my father you can addresshimas sir. Now get me the card and the Symon Tech report.’

Alone again in his office, Marcello blinked sharply, breathed deeply, and pulled his schedule up on his computer. He had a flight of his own tomorrow evening, to Rome, but there would be no chance of bumping into Victoria at the airport. Flying privately was a whole different experience from flying commercial.

The schedule before him had been inputted entirely by Victoria, who always thought and worked ahead. Her efficiency meant he was yet to let Ryan loose on it. Her efficiency meant that only her physical presence had been missed. He noted that meetings that had been arranged for the week the storm had shut Manhattan down had all been rearranged. She must have done it the afternoon he’d fallen asleep.

He took a deep breath to loosen the painful tightening in his chest. He was having to do that a lot.

A message pinged. The Symon Tech file.

Usually he would get Victoria to print off two copies, one for each of them to read through. Get her to write her thoughts in the margins. Compare notes. By the time they met with the company seeking his investment, he would have a good idea if he wished to go ahead with it. He was always open to changing his mind—you needed to meet the people behind the company before solidifying if you wished to invest with them. After all, he’d gone to the Hansons pitch two years ago thinking he would likely invest, but the directors had proved themselves to be such terrible people that their staff had deliberately sabotaged the pitch.

Cretins was what Victoria often referred to the directors of Hansons as. Cretins. Delivered in that Irish lilt that always put a smile on his face.

He was quite sure that in another week or so he’d be able to smile again without having to use imaginary marionette strings. One day soon, he hoped to remember her smile without having to struggle for breath.

Victoria hurried up the stairs to her apartment being careful not to squeeze her coffee cup too tightly and have the hot fluid spill over her hand.

Catching her breath, she unlocked the door and put her pastrami wrap and coffee on the small kitchen table. The washing had finished. She chucked the contents into the dryer then put her towels into the washing machine. That would be her last load. If she hadn’t overslept, it would already be done. But she had overslept, mainly because she’d still been awake at three a.m. willing her body to go to damned sleep.

She estimated she had just enough time for the towels to dry and for her to lob them in the suitcase before the car came to take her to the airport.

A car Marcello had arranged for her.

Not that he’d told her of it himself. Audrey had done that when Victoria had gone to the office the day before to hand in her company credit card and complete the company exit form. She’d timed it for when she knew Marcello would be in a meeting. She was functioning with what felt like all her limbs missing and a heart that had forgotten how to beat a normal rhythm. Just to imagine entering the skyscraper knowing he was under the same roof as her made blood pound in her head. Made it pound everywhere. She was holding up well enough, just focussing on tying up everything that needed tying up before she flew home to her family. To see him again would destroy that. She only had so much strength. Getting through each day was as much as she could cope with.

Before she’d left though, Audrey had asked what time she needed to be at the airport because ‘the boss’ had instructed Audrey to arrange for a Guardiola Group car and driver to transport her.

Victoria had no idea how she’d kept her legs upright or how she’d managed to answer without breaking down.

One day at a time had become a mantra, and she repeated it now while she forced her stomach to accept food it recoiled from. She managed half the wrap before binning the rest and dragging herself to the bedroom to clean the windows. She would give the apartment keys to the driver. If—and this was a big if—Ryan proved himself to Marcello and was given the job permanently, the keys would be passed to him.

On the bed lay her opened suitcases. Already packed in one was the Tiffany box containing a rose-gold bracelet that she’d been gifted from her colleagues. It was exquisite. It must have cost a fortune. Ryan, Cate and Dani had come to the apartment the night before with takeout and given it to her then, along with a giant leaving card. It had been a wonderful gesture and a wonderful evening, even if she’d had to deflect as to why she’d resigned and was moving back to Ireland. Missing her home was the excuse she’d used. She had the impression none of them believed her.

Was she doing the right thing? Running from her life and back to the home where she’d always felt like the cuckoo in the nest? Adapting to life in America had been hard but once she had adapted, it had been wonderful. New York was home.

But it had taken Marcello to feel like that. Taken Marcello to make her feel wanted. Needed. Remembered. To bring her to life and step into being the woman her teenage self had so longed to be, all long before they’d become lovers. And he hadn’t even tried.

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