Page 87 of My Fake Italian Marriage

As the kettle whistled, Moira entered the kitchen. Though it was nearly noon, she wore nothing but a summer robe over a pink lacy camisole that Cleo was sure was new. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t been able to bear packing her new camisole and knickers. She’d left them in the closet in Luca’s guest room. To hide her sudden choked emotions, she busied herself with brewing a pot of tea and fetching mugs and milk.

“Welcome home!” Moira said brightly. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” She crossed the kitchen to lean against the doorframe to the conservatory, no doubt to draw Cleo’s attention away from the front door.

Despite herself, Cleo smiled. “There’s no point pretending he’s not here. I recognise the car outside.”

Moira fidgeted with the tie of her robe. “I’m sorry. I should have told you, but—”

Cleo shook her head. “There’s no need to apologise.” After all, who was she to judge? She’d been keeping a few pretty big secrets of her own lately.

A throat cleared behind them and Cleo turned slowly to see Kevin tucking his shirt into his jeans. He looked dishevelled and more than a little sheepish.

“You prefer coffee to tea, if I remember correctly?” She spooned instant coffee granules into a mug. It was a new brand, not one they usually stocked, so she could only assume it was his.

God, he hadn’t moved in, had he? She had no problem sharing the house with a couple, but having her boss as a housemate would be a step too far.

Kevin nodded. “Um, I dropped by to … mow the lawn.”

Cleo glanced pointedly out the window at the darkening sky which threatened imminent rain, and he blushed.

“So everything is resolved at the vineyard?” He tried to sound both casual and business-like, and failed at both.

She nodded. “Giovanni Fioravanti Junior will take over as vintner, and I’ll offer Ennio the job as manager.” The bean counter. Her chest gave another of those painful tugs. “He’s a bit risk-averse for my taste, but he’ll be diligent in looking after the bank’s interests. Gio is a highly respected winemaker and the vineyard will have a bright future, so all’s well that ends well. This might even turn out to be a boost for you.”

“And for you. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. Whatever you want, name it.”

Cleo toyed with the filigree dragonfly ring on her index finger. Despite the many rings she usually wore, her left hand felt strangely bare without the weight of the art deco Fioravanti ring. “I’m handing in my notice.”

Moira gasped and Kevin’s eyes grew round. “Because of this?” He waved a hand between him and Moira.

She shook her head. “Because of me. I want to spend some time with my family in Dorset. Maybe even move there.” She hadn’t realised it was an option until she said it out loud, but it felt right. During these weeks in Tuscany, she’d rediscovered the importance of family, and she wanted a job that wouldn’t keep her indoors and chained to a desk. She wanted to be surrounded by people who loved her, by parents and children, not just friends and colleagues. She wanted to be part of a business she could truly be invested in, not for a few weeks or months, or as just one of many plates in the air, but long enough to see it grow and be part of its success. She wanted … but it wasn’t always possible to get what one wanted, so she’d make do with the next best thing.

She blinked and focused back on her friend. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Moira rounded her shoulders defensively. “I know this could be uncomfortable because you work together, and I know it’s against the Friend Code to date your friend’s ex,” – she straightened and raised her chin – “but none of that matters, because I love him.”

Kevin moved behind her, as if shielding her back. As if they were a team.

Cleo shook her head. “This isn’t about him being my boss or our friend’s ex. We both know Sarah didn’t feel enough for Kevin to be hurt that you’re dating him. No offence intended, Kevin.”

“None taken.”

“But you did cheat on her.”

He nodded, expression penitent. “I didn’t know how to end it with her and took the coward’s way out. I was a tosser, and don’t deserve your understanding or forgiveness, but I promise I’ll never cheat on Moira.”

She believed him. Aside from that one out-of-character blip, Kevin had always been a decent guy, but she pinned him with her fiercest glare. “Damn right, you won’t. Because if you ever hurt our girl in any way, Sarah and I will serve you your balls on a platter. And I don’t mean that figuratively.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said it earnestly, but when he looked at Moira, his whole face softened. “I promise to take care of Moira. For the rest of her life, if she’ll have me.”

Moira blinked. “That sounds rather like a proposal.”

“It was, but I promise I can do it better.”

She smiled. “No, that was perfect.”

Cleo picked up her steaming mug of tea. “Now that’s sorted, I’m going to take a long, hot soak in a bath full of bubbles.” There was only so much love and sentiment a girl could take when her own heart was broken.

Though it was barely past noon, she might crack open that bottle of Brunello she’d bought at Duty Free. Because it was drinking time somewhere in the world, and tea wasn’t going to be strong enough to dull the ache in her chest.

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