Lorenzo's Reward

Jess groaned. “Have I had a fraught day!”

“Is it desperately hush-hush, or are you allowed to tell me?”

“This bit I can! I ran into Roberto Forli in a pub at lunchtime.”

Emily’s big eyes widened. “Really? Your sister’s ex from Florence? What’s he doing here in London?”

“No idea. Whatever it was I wish he’d been doing it somewhere else,” said Jess irritably.

“Why?” said Emily, astonished.

“It’s a long story.”

“But jolly interesting, by the sound of it.”

Jess took a deep breath. “Simon Hollister, the marketing bloke on the jury with me, asked me out for a swift lunch. By sheer bad luck we hit on the same pub as Prosecuting Counsel.”

“No!”

Jess described the incident with Roberto Forli to her riveted friend. But, for reasons she wasn’t quite sure of, made no mention of the stranger. “We’re forbidden contact with anyone connected to the court, of course, so when I saw Roberto all chummy with Prosecuting Counsel I shot out of the pub like greased lightning and did a runner back to the courthouse.”

“Did Roberto see you?”

“You bet he did.” Jess collapsed into a chair, grateful for the fruit juice her friend handed over. “Wonderful. I needed this. Thank goodness you were home early today.”

Emily Shaw worked for an executive in a credit card company, and it was rare that she was home at this hour. “Mr Boss Man’s away, and I’ve been slaving like mad to get everything shipshape before I take off on my hols. I developed a nasty little headache after lunch, so I knocked off early for once.”

“I should think so.” Jess eyed her closely. “You look horribly peaky. Have you taken any painkillers?”

“Yes, Nurse. And I’m going to bed early.” Emily grinned. “You should do the same for once.”

“I probably will.” Jess smiled ruefully. “Pity I had to offend Roberto like that. You should have seen his face when I bolted!”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense—what happened when you went back into the jury box? Did the judge excommunicate you, or whatever?”

“No, thank goodness. But while Defence Counsel was droning on I realised I shouldn’t have drunk so much water.” Jess giggled as she described the trooping out of the entire jury on her account. “There’s only one loo in the jury room, and it’s not exactly soundproof. I think I’m still blushing.”

“Oh, bad luck!” Emily laughed, then eyed Jess speculatively. “I wonder why Leonie’s ex is in London?”

“No idea.” Jess sighed. “Pity he was with Prosecuting Counsel. In any other circumstances I’d have enjoyed a chat with him very much.” And, more to the point, achieved an introduction to the interesting stranger at the same time.

“Never mind,” consoled Emily. “Perhaps Leo will know when you go home for the wedding.”

Jess brightened. “Which now seems plain sailing, thank goodness. I was getting a bit tense about the way things were dragging on, in case I had to dash straight back after the wedding to go to court on Monday, but with a bit of luck the case will finish tomorrow. Lucky for me, anyway,” she added, sobering.

“Cheer up—the weekend forecast looks good.” Emily grinned. “The sun is sure to shine for Leonie on Sunday, anyway. The minute I set foot in a plane to fly away from it Britain always swelters in a heatwave.”

“Since you’re off to sunny Italy it doesn’t matter.” Jess sighed. “I wish I was going with you. After seven years apart Jonah and Leo were all for dashing off to a register office right away, of course, but when they were persuaded to wait for a conventional June wedding I hadn’t the heart to say the date clashed with my holiday.”

“You know nothing would have kept you from Leonie’s wedding! Not to worry; we’ll do a holiday together some other time. And my sister was in raptures when I suggested she stepped into the breach.”

“Who’s looking after the children?”

“My mother’s taking turns with the other grandma. And Jack gets home to supervise bathtime and bed, anyway. I told Celia to relax—they’ll all cope.”

“Of course they will. And I’ll use the time off to laze about at home.” Jess yawned widely. “I’m off for a bath.”

Jess was towelling thick layers of flaxen hair when Emily banged on the bathroom door.

“Phone call for you,” she called. “Guess who?”

“Surprise me.”

“A sexy-sounding gent by the name of Forli!”

“What? Tell me you’re pulling my leg, Em!” said Jess, throwing open the door in dismay.

“Of course I’m not,” said Emily indignantly. “He’s hanging on as we speak, dearie, so get yourself to the phone.”

Jess shook her head violently. “I still can’t talk to him.”

“What on earth shall I say?”

“Tell him I’m in the bath. Asleep. Anything. Why didn’t you say I was out?”

“I didn’t realise a phone call was taboo as well.” Emily shook her head. “Honestly, Jess, any woman in her right mind would kill to listen to that voice purring down the line. Who would know?” She flung up her hands. “All right, all right. I’ll lie through my teeth and swear you’re prostrate with a migraine.”

“Perfect. If I’m not I should be!”

When Jess joined Emily minutes later her friend grinned as she ladled cream and smoked salmon over bowls of steaming pasta.

“I’m afraid the gentleman didn’t believe a word of it. But he was much too civilised to blame the messenger.”

“Damn, damn, damn!” said Jess bitterly. “Any other time I’d have been delighted to talk to him.”

“I believe you. Is he tall, dark and handsome to match the voice?”

“Not quite.” That particular description belonged to the third man in the equation. “Roberto’s tall enough, but fairish in that olive-skinned, Latin sort of way. A bit of a star on the ski-slopes, according to Leo.”

“Smouldering blue eyes, of course,” said Emily, smacking her lips.

“What have you been reading lately? Actually his eyes are dark like mine.”

“Smouldering black eyes, then. Even better.”

Jess’s heart gave a sudden lurch at the memory of dark eyes which had smouldered so effectively she couldn’t get them out of her mind. She ground her teeth in frustration. If only she’d been able to talk to Roberto he could have introduced her. Why did this kind of thing never go right for her? She eyed Emily hopefully. “I don’t suppose Roberto gave you his number? I could happily ring him tomorrow, after the trial.”

“Sorry. A second rebuff must have been too much for the poor guy.”