IT WAS DARK. She hadn’t meant to stay out so late. But she’d been on a date.
A date.
It was a month since she’d seen or heard from Matteo. She hoped and prayed that his sister was well. But after that? She refused to allow him anymore space in her brain.
She’d checked yesterday and the house in the Hamptons still wasn’t sold. That surprised her. She was sure it would have sold quicker than this. It made her stomach flip-flop a little. Maybe she hadn’t done as good a job as she thought?
Nonetheless, it was time for some changes. Work was flooding in. There had been a sizeable bank transfer into her account and she’d wasted no time in paying her mother’s bills. There was no doubt. It was a weight off her mind.
Last week a casual acquaintance had asked her out for dinner. For the last three years her default position had been to automatically refuse. But this time, she hadn’t. This time she’d agreed—which had resulted in dinner tonight.
He’d booked an Italian restaurant and it would have been rude to insist on going someplace else. So Phoebe had smiled and tried not to baulk when John, her date, had ordered ravioli. It was almost as if everything about this date was trying to stir up memories of Matteo.
Two glasses of wine later it was clear there was no spark, no electricity—at least on Phoebe’s side. And John had been gentlemanly enough to accept her thanks for dinner graciously before she’d made her excuses and left.
Trouble was...the date had stirred up a lot of emotions and as she’d walked home she’d ducked into a little jazz club and sipped a cocktail for an hour, soaking up the music and trying to shake off her melancholy feelings.
She climbed the stairs to her apartment on automatic pilot but when she turned the corner she stopped dead.
Flowers. Lots of them. All lined up outside her apartment door.
Her neighbor, Latisha, must have heard her footsteps because she opened her door and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, Phoebe Gates. What have you been up to?”
Phoebe shook her head as she walked up and down the line.
“These are for me?”
“Do you think I would have left them in the hall if they were for me?”
Phoebe shook her head and bent down and plucked the card from the first beautiful display of yellow roses.
Can we talk please?
Matteo.
She pulled a face and stopped herself from throwing the card on the floor.
Latisha raised her eyebrows. “Oh, don’t worry, honey, I’ve read all the cards.”
Phoebe looked at the line and counted along, “Six, seven, eight, nine.”
Latisha smiled. “He gets kind of desperate at the end. Apparently there’ll be a car outside for you at nine tomorrow morning.”
Phoebe shook her head as she stomped past the coral-colored roses, the white lilies and the purple lisianthus. “I’m not getting in any car.”
“Well, honey, if you don’t, I will.”
Phoebe spun around and glared at Latisha. “You would not.”
Latisha looked along the line of flowers on the floor. “I wouldn’t? Whatever it is he’s done, I guess he’s sorry.”
“Not sorry enough!” Phoebe slammed her door closed and squeezed her eyes closed for a second, willing the tears away.
He’d left her. He’d left her to fly home alone when he’d known how scared she was. He’d waited more than a month to contact her. Why now?
* * *
She was angry with herself. Even though she’d spent all night telling herself she wouldn’t, by 9:00 a.m. she’d found herself washed, dressed and sitting in her brand-new green coat at her kitchen table.
When the knock at the door came she gulped as a wave of anger swept over her again. She swung the door open and started as she saw Matteo’s driver, Carlo.
He gave her a smile. “Morning, Ms. Gates. Are you ready?”
He held out a caramel latte and a strawberry frosted donut. She blinked. It was a little unexpected. Carlo nodded his head toward the line of flowers along the floor.
“You didn’t like them?”
Phoebe pressed her lips together. “Flowers aren’t an apology,” she muttered.
Carlo nodded in agreement. He waved out his hand. “Are you ready?”
She bit her bottom lip. What was she doing? Was she crazy?
She grabbed her bag and pulled the door closed behind her. “Let’s go.”
The route was familiar. It didn’t take her long to realize where they were going. For a few minutes she had a mild panic. Were they returning to the home in the Hamptons because Matteo’s family were unhappy with her work? Surely, if they were unhappy they wouldn’t have paid her?
She took a deep breath and settled back against the comfortable leather seat. New York City disappeared behind them making way to the cute streets of the villages and to the wide open spaces of the Hamptons.
By the time they turned into the driveway of the house her stomach was churning.
Carlo pulled up outside and opened the door for her. She waited a few seconds, sucking in a few steadying breaths before she grabbed her bag and stepped out.
She hated it. The way she loved this place. The way just being here made her skin tingle. She knew this place was blackened and tinged with bad memories for Matteo, and maybe now she should have a few bad memories herself. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Every part of her loved this place. Every room. Every piece of furniture. Every scent. And every thought.
Because most of them were filled with Matteo.
She tried to clear her head. She tried to focus. Flowers, coffee and donuts were not an apology. Not in this lifetime.
She might have decided she was ready to move on. But she would ultimately decide when, and with whom.
Her heels clicked across the marble floor, the steps echoing up the spiral staircase she loved so much. She stopped.
There was a different kind of scent in the house. A mixture of lemon and fresh linen with a hint of something else. Was it lavender?
“Hello?” she shouted. There was no response, so she started to walk. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this place.
Flowers. That was the extra scent. Flowers in every room. A different display, sometimes shades of white, yellow and pale blue to match the surroundings. Sometimes something completely different to add a splash of color. As she walked through to the back sitting room, a tall vase of orange gerberas adorned every table.
She walked over and touched one of the petals. Bright orange and green. It was an interesting combination.
There were footsteps behind her. She turned around as Matteo walked in, holding a tray with coffee and a china plate filled with desserts. He gave her a tentative smile. “I visited our favorite bakery and bought you one of everything.”
She didn’t respond. Just watched as he walked over and slid the tray onto one of the tables.
She was tempted. Tempted by the smells. Tempted by the sight of him again after a month. That strong jaw, his floppy hair and broad shoulders. But she wouldn’t waver.
“What is this, Matteo? What do you want?”
It was the first time in her life she’d seen him look a little uncertain.
“I want to talk,” he said quietly.
She moved across the floor quickly. “Is something wrong with the house? With my work?”
He shook his head. A familiar furrow creased his brow. “Why would you think that?”
She glanced around. “The house—it’s been a month. Why hasn’t it sold yet? I know it’s the wrong time of year. But a place like this? I expected it to be snapped up in a second.”
Matteo licked his lips and nodded. “I’ve had three offers.”
Now it was her turn to wrinkle her brow. “And they didn’t offer enough?”
He shook his head and glanced out the window at Mecox Bay. “They offered more than enough. We... I mean... I decided I didn’t want to sell.”
“You don’t?” She couldn’t hide the surprise from her voice.
She moved over beside Matteo and hesitated for only a second before sitting down.
He turned to face her. “You made me think about things. You made me think differently—” he held up his hands “—about this place.”
She shifted on the seat. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and looked around. “You didn’t have the same cloud hanging over your head when it came to this place. You saw it through different eyes, and you helped me see it through different eyes too.”
Her heart rate started to quicken. “But you have reasons for how you feel. I don’t want you to hang onto something that you’ll always associate with something bad from your childhood. You need to move on. You need to let go.”
“Like you did?”
It was like a dozen little caterpillars crawling gently up her spine. “What do you mean?”
He reached for her hand. “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, Phoebe. And the one with the biggest heart. I’m sorry I left you in Rome. I’m sorry I left you to travel home alone.”
She pulled her hand back. “I’m not.” She couldn’t help how blunt the words were.
“What do you mean?”
She turned away from him and looked at the array of desserts in front of her. She didn’t want him touching her. She didn’t want little electrical sparks shooting up her arms and heading straight to her heart. She picked up a slice of pie and a fork. She stabbed at the pie. “I mean, it was good for me. It was probably what I needed. Life is about looking after yourself. The first time I got on the plane it was for you—and for my mom. I could tell myself there was a reason to do it. I needed that money. I needed to complete the job. But the second time? It was for me. It was to tell myself I could do it. I didn’t need anyone else. I could do this on my own—on my own terms. It was more important than you could ever imagine.”
Matteo shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to her, eyeing the way her fork continued to stab at the pie.
“And what did you learn?”
She licked her lips. “I learned I could trust myself. I learned I could do anything.” Her voice wavered a little. “I learned I could live this life on my own.”
He reached over; the hand holding the fork was trembling and she hadn’t even noticed. He put his warm hand over hers. “And do you want to? Because I believe, Phoebe, that you can do anything you want to do.”
She swallowed and gulped, letting the plate rest down on her coat.
He kept talking. “You’re beautiful and you’re talented. I’m so lucky that I met you. Every day I regret leaving you behind. I was so focused on my sister and my family that I didn’t realize my family reached further than my blood. I didn’t realize my heart had already decided that you were family too.”
Her hand froze. “What do you mean?”
He gave her a half-smile. “I mean, that this house, you, taught me to look ahead, to look to the future. The memories I have about this house are now about you, Phoebe. You even helped me remember some happy memories as a child here too. And you were right. Right about my sister and brother.”
“How is your sister?”
“Brianna’s good. She can’t wait to meet you. Jay—and I might be biased—is possibly the most beautiful baby on the entire planet. And Brianna’s well. Apart from being mad at me, and using a few choice words.” He paused for a second. “But she understands. She understands why I didn’t tell her. Not that she’s happy.” He shook his head and lowered it slightly. “She was particularly unhappy when she heard I’d left you in Rome when I got the news about her labor.”
Phoebe pushed herself back in the chair. She was trying to take in what he was saying. But she’d been left in Rome feeling as if she’d misinterpreted everything. She couldn’t feel like that again. She wouldn’t feel like that again.
She glanced down at the pie on the plate on her lap. It had been well and truly desecrated.
Phoebe looked up into Matteo’s eyes. They seemed sincere, but all she could think about right now was the ache in her heart.
“Why did you leave me in Rome, Matteo?”
He opened his mouth. The easiest thing for him to say was to repeat that it was all for Brianna.
“I was afraid.”
She blinked. “You were afraid?”
He nodded. “I told myself I was protecting you—leaving you like that.”
She gulped. “Well, it certainly didn’t feel like that.”
“I know. I thought I could never be enough for you. You’re so open and honest, Phoebe. You’re so full of life. You grab life. You want it. And you love with your whole heart.”
She nodded and bit her lip. “And what about you, Matteo?” She understood more than he’d already said.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think I could do that. I’ve never done it before. I’ve never been able to.”
“Why?” She pushed him. She knew she had to.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Because I don’t want to open myself up. I don’t want to open myself to the same kind of hurt I felt before.”
Pain was written all over his face. Her fingers ached to reach out and touch him. But Matteo wasn’t quite ready for that. She needed everything. She needed to know that he could love her just as much as she loved him.
“When your mother died? But you already have. Don’t you see that? You opened yourself when you told me about your mother. You did it again when you told your brother and sister.”
He nodded slowly. But her insides twisted. She needed more. He was almost there. But he had to get there on his own. She couldn’t do it for him.
She set the plate down on the table with a bang. “What do you want, Matteo? Why am I here?”
“You’re here so I can say sorry.” The words came out quickly—almost automatically.
She blinked. “Well, you’ve said it. I’ve heard it.”
He tried to reach for her hands again but she brushed him off. “Please, Phoebe...”
“Please, Phoebe, what? What is this? What do you want me to say? I’m glad your sister is well, Matteo. I’m glad she has a healthy baby. I know you sold the house in Rome, great. And, as for why you don’t want to sell this place?” The anger was starting to dissipate from her voice. She looked around the room. “That’s entirely up to you. Maybe this place just needed a face lift.” She shook her head, “Maybe you just needed to open the shutters.” She couldn’t help the metaphor.
Matteo shook his head. “What I needed, Phoebe, was you.”
She stood up and walked over to the glass doors looking out over Mecox Bay. Matteo was right behind her and he gently laid his hand on her shoulder. “And maybe, what you needed was me.”
She spun around to face him, tears brimming in her eyes. She pressed her hands up against her heart. “How can you say that? How can you? You were the first person I kissed since Jason died. The first person I actually felt something for. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t looking for it. But it just happened. And I thought you were right there alongside me. But I was imagining it. I made a fool of myself. And now this? You ask me here?” Her voice was getting louder and louder. “Is this just to remind me about the time we spent here? Is this just to rub my face in it? Because you’ve still not told me why I’m here. You’ve still not told me what you want.”
Matteo reached up and touched her cheek. “Because what I want is you, Phoebe. I want you to give me a chance. I’m sorry, for leaving you behind. I’m sorry for not being there on the flight with you. I want to make this work. Ever since I’ve met you, I’ve felt differently. You’re like no one I’ve ever met before. You see the good in people. You walk into a room and just bring the light with you.” He was smiling at her again. “I love being around you, Phoebe. I’ve always been a workaholic and I’m not like that with you. When I’m around you, all I can think about is you.” He pressed his hand against his heart. “I love you, Phoebe. I’ll say it. I’ll say it out loud for the world to hear. I don’t care I’ve only known you for a couple of months. Every day for the last month, all I’ve thought about is you. Every day I’ve wanted to speak to you—to message you.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
He met her gaze with his bright green eyes. “Because I hadn’t done what I should have. You challenged me before I left Rome. You told me I had to be honest with my sister and brother. I couldn’t make excuses anymore for not telling them the truth. It didn’t feel right, to come back and ask you to be part of my life when I hadn’t taken the journey you’d challenged me to take. You’d faced your fears, Phoebe.” His voice dropped. “I hadn’t.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “You thought I wouldn’t want to be with you until you’d told your family?”
He closed his eyes for a second. “I thought I probably didn’t deserve you if I hadn’t. I was still so worried. I was watching Brianna the whole time. What if she had become ill? How fair would it be to ask you to be part of a family that could potentially be dealing with health problems for a long time?”
She tilted her head to one side. “And how fair would it be to ask you to be part of my life when my mother has just finished her cancer treatment? It could come back, then I’ll spend all my time taking her for treatments and worrying about taking care of her. Do you see how ridiculous that sounds, Matteo? Family is family. What if you’re ill? What if I’m ill? None of this should matter. The only thing that should matter is how two people feel about each other.”
He nodded. “You’re right. You’re always right, Phoebe. It seems that even when I plan to tell a woman how much I love her I get that wrong too.”
She was frozen to the spot. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Her heart was swelling in her chest. Partly because of his response, and partly because she was still cautious.
Matteo stepped in front of her. “I did plan something else.” He held out his hand toward her. “Will you come with me?”
As she lifted her hand toward his, he paused. “Wait a minute—do you want to slip off your coat?”
She glanced down. She was a little embarrassed to admit she was wearing the yellow dress underneath—the one he’d caught her dancing in. But she tilted her chin toward him as she undid the buttons on her bright green raincoat and handed it to him. Matteo left her coat over one of the leather chairs then held out his hand toward her again. There was a flicker in his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned upward as his eyes took in her yellow dress.
He led her down the corridor to the atrium with the curved staircase, pulling his phone from his pocket and pressing some buttons.
There was a gleam in his eyes. “I added a little extra to the house in the last few days.”
She frowned and looked around. She couldn’t see anything different. “What?”
Gentle music filled the air around them. The music from Phoebe’s favorite musical. She couldn’t help but smile.
“May I have this dance?” Matteo asked.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked.
He raised his eyebrows. “Around you? Apparently not. But I’m willing to spend a lifetime finding out.”
She was holding her breath as she slid her hand into his. “I believe you need to start on the stairs,” he said as he led her up the curved staircase, then stood a little underneath her.
It was silly. It was ridiculous. But it was exactly what she’d dreamed of. Matteo was just underneath her. He wasn’t in a suit—just a simple pair of dress trousers and white shirt.
This time when he looked up at her there were no shadows in his eyes—only sincerity. His gaze was fixed entirely on her.
Her heart was playing a pitter-patter kind of tune in her chest. It had taken three years to kiss someone again. It had taken three years for her to find the courage to step onto a plane again—and whether he believed it or not, Matteo had given her the boost to do that. But was she really ready to give her heart away again?
The music was infectious. Her body started to sway in time to the tune, her feet soon following. Matteo was watching her the whole time. She moved up and down the staircase but as she reached the last few steps Matteo held out his arms to lift her down onto the main floor. One hand fitted snugly at her waist, the other held her hand tightly as he started to move around the room. Matteo could dance. He held her tightly to him as he swept her around the atrium. “How do you feel about doing this, every day, for the rest of your life?”
Her footsteps slowed. “How can I trust you, Matteo? What do you have to give me?”
He didn’t hesitate. “My heart. It’s yours. Forever. I hadn’t realized that I needed to learn to trust. To open the shutters. To put myself out there. So, I’m here now. My heart. From this point on, we’re family. You and me. For always.”
Phoebe snaked her hands around his neck. “I might have some conditions.”
He picked her up and swirled her around. “Name them.”
She was smiling as her feet touched the ground again. “I might want you to dance me around every room in the house.”
“Done.”
“I might want the same amount of flowers in every room. I love them. The orange gerberas were particularly ingenious.” She raised her eyebrows. “You might have a good eye.”
“Done. Anything else?”
She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “We might need to reach a more formal agreement.”
For a second, his brow furrowed. “How?”
This time it was her turn for there to be a twinkle in her eye. “It might involve a certain book, in my favorite room in the house.”
Matteo gave her a wide smile as he slipped her hand into his and led her down the corridor. “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” he said as he winked at her. “I think you’ll have to show me...”