Page 20 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Carrie had thought she’d be totally cowed but strangely, with Massimo by her side, she felt her spine straightening and her head coming up. She felt the protection of his very solid presence beside her like a forcefield.
When they reached the next level Carrie was glad they’d lingered in the reception foyer for a while, giving her time to prepare her for the grandeur that awaited: a ballroom bigger than any space she’d ever been in, in her life.
Massive French doors were open to terraces outside. The glittering crowd mingled under thousands of lights that seemed to be hung by invisible threads over their heads. Flowers and greenery bloomed all around them, giving the effect of a garden inside. A small orchestra played on a dais in one corner.
They weren’t alone for long. People started to approach Massimo in a steady stream. Out of nowhere, one of Massimo’s assistants that Carrie recognised materialised by his side, and she could hear him reminding Massimo of who people were before they got to him.
Massimo introduced her to everyone, and they were perfectly civil, but their eyes and their attention skated over her. She wasn’t interesting to them. Certainly not recognisable. That suited her just fine.
She was fascinated with how Massimo expertly gave his full attention to everyone, getting what he wanted to know from them, or imparting some information, and then moved onto the next person. He had the effortless diplomacy of a statesman.
When they moved into the adjacent space a short time later, Carrie realised it was a dining room. Lots of circular tables with elaborate floral centrepieces. They were led to one near the front, where there was a small stage with a podium.
Food was served and it looked surprisingly hearty. Not what she would have expected at an event like this. She picked up her fork, suddenly realising she was starving, but when she looked around her she put it down again quickly, her face growing hot at her faux pas.
Massimo turned away from the man he’d been talking to on his other side. ‘Something wrong?’
Carrie whispered, ‘No one is eating.’
‘And you’re hungry?’
She looked at him. ‘I haven’t eaten since this morning.’ It had taken most of the day to make her look presentable.
Massimo picked up his fork and speared a large morsel of food, putting it into his mouth. It was almost comical the way everyone else at the table suddenly followed suit.
He winked discreetly at Carrie.
She ate some food and instantly felt a little less light-headed. A woman near her leaned towards her. She was older, and she had a pleasant expression on her face—less frozen than most of the women she’d noticed.
‘And what’s your name, dear?’
Carrie’s mouth went dry. Was she meant to make conversation with these people? With her less than refined accent?
But before she could answer Massimo was saying smoothly, ‘My apologies, Dorothy, this is Carrie Taylor.’
The woman’s eyes lit up. ‘One of the Taylors from Long Island? Now which one are you, dear? One of John’s daughters?’
Massimo put a discreet hand on Carrie’s arm. He said, ‘No, she’s not related to those Taylors. She’s from London—that’s where we met.’
Where we met.
As if she really was with him. As if she wasn’t just an employee doing him a favour that crossed several boundaries.
Carrie could feel an urge to give in to this fantasy that somehow she was a peer of Massimo’s and they’d met at an event like this, but it was too much of a stretch for her. She’d had the life she’d had, and there was some comfort in knowing that she didn’t regret it. It had made her who she was and she was proud of that.
The older woman’s face immediately blanked, now that Carrie was no longer someone she could relate to. She turned away to the man on her right.
Massimo said,sotto voce, ‘Don’t mind Dorothy...she’s old school. She only knows how to talk to people descended from the pilgrims on theMayflower.’
Carrie stifled a giggle. Then Massimo’s thigh touched hers under the table. It was fleeting, but it sent a shockwave of arousal through her body. The urge to giggle faded and her appetite fled. She left the rest of the food on her plate.
Shehadto control herself. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that this was somehow real. She’d believed in a fantasy before, and the consequences had been tragic. She’d promised herself she’d never be so blind again.
The waiters discreetly cleared their plates. There was a tapping sound on a microphone and then a woman stood on the podium and spoke a few words, welcoming everyone, before she said, ‘There’s no point in my saying another word—I might as well hand it over to the man best qualified to tell us more about his vision for this space, Massimo Black, Lord Linden.’
There was thunderous applause and Massimo was striding onto the stage before Carrie had even registered that he was gone from her side.
He was mesmerising. He shushed the crowd with a self-deprecating expression and then not a sound could be heard except for his deep voice as he spoke with clear confidence. And Carrie wasn’t even taking in half of what he was saying about wanting to create a space that would be solely available for charitable causes...wanting to give organisations no excuse not to raise funds.
