from straying. Allowed her self-confidence to be completely ripped apart when he’d found her wanting every time. When in reality, maybe her marriage had been destined for failure from the start. Because of the man Julian was. Who they both were.
One of the chefs came over and grabbed Matteo for the winner’s announcement. Quinn sat there, head buzzing as she watched him walk away. She had always believed that at the heart of her, she was somehow defective. Her disastrous marriage had only underscored it. What if it wasn’t true ? What if her inability to please her husband in bed had been more about him than her?
With her belief about her biggest failure turned upside down, she stood at Thomas Golding’s side as they announced the winner of the chef’s challenge. Paradis, to no one’s surprise, won, François’s lamb dish and outrageously eclectic-green banana pie outclassing the competition by a landslide.
Catrina James presented François with the winner’s trophy and gave each of the chefs a kiss on the cheek as she posed with them for photographs. Her one for Matteo was extra enthusiastic. Of course .
Champagne bottles were popped and the night dissolved into a big party. It was impossible not to get caught up in the exuberant celebrations, but as she watched, as the clock slipped closer to midnight, Matteo’s easy smile faded. His face shuttered and the darkness descended. It was like watching a curtain fall and she knew he’d been hiding his pain under that charming, devil-may-care demeanor.
Tonight was the anniversary of Giancarlo’s death.
It did not surprise her to turn around sometime after midnight to find Catrina James attached to another male and Matteo gone. She stood at Thomas Golding’s side, the ground feeling unsteady under her feet. She should go back to her room and work. She had enough of it for an army.
Matteo was a conflict of interest in the most important assignment of her career. She should be running in the opposite direction. But some things in life were more important than work. Funny how she’d realized that now of all moments.
Quinn looked down at the golden shimmer of the Riesling in her glass, the sparkling liquid reflecting the light of the moon. I know you would blow my mind enough to pull me out of this....
Her heartbeat picked up into an insistent rhythm that made the blood whish in her ears. How could any deal matter when a person was in agony? She could not leave Matteo alone. She would not.
She could not spend another minute of her life wondering about the truth of herself.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Thomas. “I have some work to do.”
Crossing the terrace, she took the path to the upper level of luxury suites. Saw the light burning in Matteo’s living room. She climbed the steps to the door and was about to rap on it when she heard music. A haunting piano score played so beautifully it froze her in her tracks.
Matteo .
Her heart pounded so loud in her chest she thought it might break through. She knew she was invading his privacy. Knew she should walk away. But the melody reached out and wrapped itself around her heart. The blackness of it.
Quinn walked around to the back of the suite and took the stairs up to the patio. Leaned back against the wall in the shadows and listened to every heartrending note. She did not recognize the piece, but there was no doubt in her mind Matteo had written it for Giancarlo. It was poignant, stunning and full of grief.
Her knees shook, her eyes burned. She was not someone made of emotion. But this was breaking her heart.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, pressed against the wall, listening to him play. When he finally stopped, she took a deep breath, steadied herself and stepped into the light. He sat at the piano staring at the keys. He looked up as she appeared, as if he wasn’t at all surprised to find her there. His bloodshot eyes were nearly her undoing.
“I told you last night you can’t
One of the chefs came over and grabbed Matteo for the winner’s announcement. Quinn sat there, head buzzing as she watched him walk away. She had always believed that at the heart of her, she was somehow defective. Her disastrous marriage had only underscored it. What if it wasn’t true ? What if her inability to please her husband in bed had been more about him than her?
With her belief about her biggest failure turned upside down, she stood at Thomas Golding’s side as they announced the winner of the chef’s challenge. Paradis, to no one’s surprise, won, François’s lamb dish and outrageously eclectic-green banana pie outclassing the competition by a landslide.
Catrina James presented François with the winner’s trophy and gave each of the chefs a kiss on the cheek as she posed with them for photographs. Her one for Matteo was extra enthusiastic. Of course .
Champagne bottles were popped and the night dissolved into a big party. It was impossible not to get caught up in the exuberant celebrations, but as she watched, as the clock slipped closer to midnight, Matteo’s easy smile faded. His face shuttered and the darkness descended. It was like watching a curtain fall and she knew he’d been hiding his pain under that charming, devil-may-care demeanor.
Tonight was the anniversary of Giancarlo’s death.
It did not surprise her to turn around sometime after midnight to find Catrina James attached to another male and Matteo gone. She stood at Thomas Golding’s side, the ground feeling unsteady under her feet. She should go back to her room and work. She had enough of it for an army.
Matteo was a conflict of interest in the most important assignment of her career. She should be running in the opposite direction. But some things in life were more important than work. Funny how she’d realized that now of all moments.
Quinn looked down at the golden shimmer of the Riesling in her glass, the sparkling liquid reflecting the light of the moon. I know you would blow my mind enough to pull me out of this....
Her heartbeat picked up into an insistent rhythm that made the blood whish in her ears. How could any deal matter when a person was in agony? She could not leave Matteo alone. She would not.
She could not spend another minute of her life wondering about the truth of herself.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Thomas. “I have some work to do.”
Crossing the terrace, she took the path to the upper level of luxury suites. Saw the light burning in Matteo’s living room. She climbed the steps to the door and was about to rap on it when she heard music. A haunting piano score played so beautifully it froze her in her tracks.
Matteo .
Her heart pounded so loud in her chest she thought it might break through. She knew she was invading his privacy. Knew she should walk away. But the melody reached out and wrapped itself around her heart. The blackness of it.
Quinn walked around to the back of the suite and took the stairs up to the patio. Leaned back against the wall in the shadows and listened to every heartrending note. She did not recognize the piece, but there was no doubt in her mind Matteo had written it for Giancarlo. It was poignant, stunning and full of grief.
Her knees shook, her eyes burned. She was not someone made of emotion. But this was breaking her heart.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, pressed against the wall, listening to him play. When he finally stopped, she took a deep breath, steadied herself and stepped into the light. He sat at the piano staring at the keys. He looked up as she appeared, as if he wasn’t at all surprised to find her there. His bloodshot eyes were nearly her undoing.
“I told you last night you can’t
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