Second Chances (8 page)

Maya yawned and rubbed her tired eyes, instantly regretting it when she felt her contacts moving in her eyes. She blinked furiously several times to put them back in place, then closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lids to chase away the burning sensation. The sharp rap on her door forced her to use her eyes again.

“Come in.”

She couldn’t stop the sigh when she saw Arthur’s tall figure entering the room. She had no desire to see him now; she just wanted to go home, blissfully alone and quiet.

“What are you doing here?”

He dismissed her rebuff with a wave of the hand.

“I promised Matthew to come back to see him after his tests were complete.”

Her expression softened instantly. The nurse had called earlier to say the child had accepted mashed carrots, scrambled eggs and Jell-O for dinner. Arthur went on.

“He is sleeping. When will we receive the results?”

“Two or three days; if everything is positive, they will schedule the surgery for the end of next week, I hope.”

Arthur nodded sternly. He stayed mute about the Yule Ball, which was happening the following weekend. The window behind her opened on the large square in front of the hospital. He approached to look at the white coat covering the sidewalks. Some flakes were whirling around; snow had started to fall again.

Maya stood up to distance herself from him. The young man looked from her open computer to her coat, hesitantly. He finally decided to help her with her clothing.

“If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home.”

“Why?”

“I’m your boyfriend. Boyfriends do things like that on Friday nights, especially when it’s dark and cold.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

He only smirked. Maya bent to close her computer and Arthur turned his back on her, fishing for his keys.

Arthur had chosen the underground facility instead of parking in front of the building, and she appreciated not having to wait for the car to warm up. Of course, it was probably more for his convenience than hers, so Maya didn’t thank him for it.

He turned left exiting the garage and took the avenue leading downtown.

“Arthur, you’re going west; my apartment is on the opposite side of the city.”

“I know that. How do you feel about sushi?”

“Great, if you want to take me back to the hospital within the hour. I’m allergic to seafood, remember?”

The young man blushed deeply and fidgeted in his seat, uneasy.

“Sorry. It slipped my mind. Italian?”

“Can’t you just bring me home?”

“Why do you refuse to have dinner with me? It’s not like we can’t stand each other.”

Maya put her knitted fingers on her lap, looking straight ahead.

“We’re not friends either.”

“Do you have to be so difficult?”

“Do you have to be so stubborn?”

The only sign of impatience from Arthur came from his hand clenching the gearshift. Then, suddenly, he started laughing. Annoyed, Maya glared.

“What is so funny?”

“Well, I guess this was our first fight…”

Her mouth twitched and the ghost of a smile blossomed on her lips. She renounced arguing. Truth was she was a little hungry and tired and escaping the cooking sounded good, even if it was Arthur’s idea.

***

“This place is one of my favorites.”

Curious, she inspected the small façade with red and green decorations. Arthur was already holding the door open.

“I think it’s time we learn some things about each other.”

“Well, you’re stuck with milk in your coffee for a while.”

His grimace widened her smile. Maya stepped inside the building, while his eyes burned holes in the back of her head.

The restaurant was an intimate little place, with white tablecloths and discreet waiters. Arthur chose a table near the fireplace. Maya had to admit he could be agreeable when he wanted to. He made some suggestions about the food, translating the menu for her, without making her feel out of place.

“I didn’t know you speak Italian.”

“I play golf too, but my Italian is better. La signorina prenderà una zuppa con una scaloppina di vitello parmigiana e per me un carpaccio di bue con la scaloppina. Due bottiglie di acqua senza ghiaccio, con una fetta di limone.”

The waiter took his order and left. Maya looked around before she focused on her companion again. Arthur sipped his drink.

“So, I take my coffee black, no sugar and I speak Italian. You’re allergic to seafood. Even the score: tell me something about yourself.”

She gave it a little thought before answering.

“Christmas is my favorite time of the year.”

“I had guessed that. Tell me something else.”

His blue eyes on her were unsettling. Suddenly the young woman realized the dinner looked a lot like a date; which was probably his intention from the beginning. Once again, Arthur was playing tricks on her. She could not trust him; his actions always hid ulterior motives.

“I live alone; I love children and I love my job at the Foundation; I play the piano; I love books and horror movies; I can’t keep a plant alive for more than two months. I love live concerts. Is that enough for you?”

The avalanche of information was flooded with evident annoyance. Arthur backed into his chair. He didn’t understand why she sounded angry all of a sudden. Her temper fuelled his instantly.

“You forgot about your favorite dessert and animal.”

“Raspberry sorbet and cats.”

Their appetizers stopped the growing argument. They ate in silence and the delicious food helped to settle their respective flaring moods. Arthur put down his fork first.

“My turn, then. I visited Italy after Uni, and learned the language. I speak bits of French too, mostly because I dated women from the country. I used to do a lot of sports, but lately I lack the time except for occasional indoor training. I read so much during university I refuse to approach a book now. I listen to whatever the radio is playing; I have never had a relationship that lasted more than two weeks. I don’t have plants. I cannot remember the last time I took a proper holiday. I like chocolate. No preference for cats or dogs.”

Maya looked closely at him. Who defined oneself with so many negations? Suddenly she doubted she knew who Arthur Pendleton was, at all.

The food was incredible, and it helped finding a safer conservation topic, as Maya asked Arthur to tell her about Italy. She listened as he slowly opened up, talking about the beautiful of Venice and Florence. He described the wonderful buildings, the art and the Dolce Vita, and she discovered he could be simple and passionate, a side of him that was new for her and she actually liked. He still used irony to mock Italian Machismo, and exuberance, but he did it in a teasing way, to amuse her rather than to vex.

“… Seriously, he could not be older than twelve. And here he was, parading and putting his sunglasses down his nose to wink at women twice his age. And it worked!”

“They were probably making fun of him…”

Arthur shook his head. “No, not at all. Believe me, I know when a woman is interested or not.”

Maya opened her mouth to retort she had no doubt about it, and closed it in extremis. Arthur noticed her hesitation and fell silent, his grin vanishing quickly. Their waiter arrived to clear their plates; both welcomed the interruption.

“May I bring you some desert? Coffee?”

Maya shook her head.

“Oh, no, thank you. I could not swallow another bit. It was delicious.”

“Caffe dopio per me.”

“Si signore.”

Casual conversation seemed no longer an option. Maya sipped her water. She regretted holding her tongue earlier. Maybe Arthur would have understood she was teasing, and just joked back. He was glimpsing toward the kitchens, probably hoping for his double expresso to arrive as soon as possible. She sighed internally. No, Arthur ignored about self-derision. Teasing his dating habits would have been equally disastrous. So be it. She had questions, and he was already antagonized…

“I still don’t understand why you can’t simply say no to Robert about his marital ideas.”

Arthur reacted instantly. “You don’t know what it’s like to deal with a man who does not consider “no” as a suitable answer.”

She did not; but she could guess well enough. Be successful; be flawless; obey blindly. She had had her share when she was younger, when she was in high school and Robert still cared about the whereabouts of his goddaughter.

Their waiter presented Arthur with his coffee and left. She watched her companion more closely as he spooned his coffee unnecessarily, his stare fixed on the dark beverage. Maya refused to let him close up and teased, “You could do worse than Isobel. At least she is nice.”

After a moment, Arthur looked up. His expression was mocking again and she dreaded his repartee.

“You are surprising me, Maya. You, of all people, are approving arranged unions?”

Maya tensed, “I don’t—”

“No, of course you don’t. You are a romantic at heart.”

She frowned.

“If I was that romantic, I would get caught in this masquerade, fall helplessly in love with you, and nurse a broken heart for the rest of my life.”

Arthur laughed and gestured for the bill.

“Fortunately for your tender heart, this has little chance to happen; hasn’t it?”

She liked his tone less and less and replied dryly.

“Absolutely.”

“Then we’re good.”

Arthur drained his coffee and stood to proceed to the cashier.

Maya followed his retreat, speechless. She nearly swore he sounded sad.

Chapter 13

Maya turned to look at the clock on her bedside table. It was barely eight. She stretched, arching her back and curling her toes, before rolling on her stomach to bury her face in the pillow. She could indulge a bit longer in the warm bed; Tristan would not arrive for at least another hour and Arthur had announced he would join them directly at the market. She suspected he was going to the office, even though he had not disclosed any reason for his delay.

She sighed and flipped on her back again, disturbed by memories of their dinner. From his own confessions, Arthur was a workaholic, and he settled for undemanding getaways when he had some free time, which was apparently very rare. Colin seemed to be his only real friend. Somehow, she pitied him.

Knowing this, their little masquerade was gathering a new meaning. By refusing his father’s choice for a daughter-in-law, he was shaking the stifling cloak cast over him; or at least he was trying to escape it. She pondered if Arthur was even conscious of his attempt. Probably not.

Restless, Maya pushed away the sheets and walked to the bathroom. Arthur’s true motives for asking her to pose as his girlfriend were his and his alone and they would remain so.

As for her, all that mattered was Matthew…and for the next couple of hours, preventing her “suitor” and her cousin from killing each other. Of course, Isobel was going to help by distracting Tristan, or so she hoped…

She had yet to tell her cousin they were to have company for the day. She was nearly sure he would not object to Isobel, but Arthur was another matter. Maya twisted her hair into a bun and observed her image in the mirror. Moira’s comment the previous day came back to taunt her. Her sister was seeing her with biased eyes. She was far from being beautiful. Interesting, maybe, but certainly not anything more than that. She sighed and smiled, dismissing the thought, then turned the hot water on to have a shower.

***

Tristan took a mouthful of coffee. “Did I miss something?”

“Huh, no. That’s it. We will pick up Isobel at her hotel and Arthur will join us later.”

He gulped more coffee. “Why?”

“Arthur argued he had to come because we are supposed to be together and I can’t be seen spending my weekend with another man, even you.”

“Right. But what about Isobel? Arthur didn’t require her presence, I suppose. Isn’t she Robert’s choice for a daughter-in-law?”

Talking about Isobel was exactly what Maya had hoped to avert. Unfortunately, her cousin knew her too well to let her off the hook that easily. She tried to smile her way out of it.

“I like her?”

He pointed one accusatory finger at her and repeated, “Right. Try something else, Maya.”

“Oh fine! She needs a date for the Yule Ball because I’ll go with Arthur, and I thought that if you like each other…”

Tristan choked on his beverage, his cheeks growing a deep pink. “I beg your pardon?”

Maya gave him her best kitty-cat pout.

“Maya…”

“Oh, please Tristan…You’ve been pining over Ines for too long now. You deserve a little fun. Isobel is nice and attractive and she’s…”

Her mention of his former girlfriend shadowed his face instantly and she regretted bringing up the name. Tristan groaned. “I don’t have a choice, I suppose.”

She beamed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll like her.”

Tristan interrupted her at once. “I warn you, Maya. This is not an invitation for you to try to pair me up, and make sure your “date” stays away from me. Is that clear?”

“Crystal!”

She danced out of the kitchen and the young man sighed heavily, vaguely suspicious about the trouble she was leading him into. He equally worried about the reasons that had pushed Maya to play matchmaker. In his experience, she did that only when her loving heart was content. He drained the rest of his coffee. Spending the day watching Arthur Pendleton was probably a good thing.

***

“Oh, my, these are fantastic!”

Isobel tugged Maya toward the next shop to admire the home-made knitted pieces. Maya smiled in apology at her cousin as her nose, pink with cold, disappeared behind layers of forest green wool. The cloth was incredibly soft on her skin and she rubbed the fabric against her cheek while Isobel chose another one and giggled. The bright yellow piece made its way back on the rack. The blonde woman wrapped a fuchsia scarf around her, then a cornflower blue one and a grey, admiring herself in the small mirror nearby.

Tristan observed them from afar for a minute before he started moving slowly toward them. Isobel radiated energy and charm and her bright smile was contagious. His cousin tended to be reserved with strangers, but the blonde had overcome her shyness without Maya even knowing it. His stare found a pair of intelligent grey eyes, and Isobel’s smile widened, before it turned slightly mischievous. Her gaze fixed on him and sparkled.