Happiness seemed to be taking her over, streaming to her fingers and toes, bringing a silly smile to her face. She controlled it hastily.
‘I think we should be making a move,’ she said.
He seemed to come out of a dream. ‘Yes-yes, of course.’
In the car he resolutely discussed his plans for the trip. ‘A few days here, looking in on my customers, trying to keep them happy, then Richmond, Phoenix, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Memphis, Dallas, New Orleans.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘I’m really going to be busy!’
‘Are you going straight home from New Orleans, or coming back to New York?’ she asked, carefully neutral.
He didn’t answer at once. At last, he said in a strange voice, ‘I’m not sure. Are you free for dinner tonight?’
‘I think so,’ she said, sounding casual, although it had been marked in her diary for a week.
‘I’ll meet you in the Imperial Bar at eight.’
She had a mass of work that afternoon but she got through it fast and was in the bar a few minutes early. Lorenzo’s eyes opened wide when he saw the soft white dress she was wearing. A gilt belt clasped it in at the waist, and the V neck made the perfect setting for the chain and locket. She wore her black hair loose about her shoulders. He too had dressed up, not formally, but with the casual, silk-shirted elegance that made him even more impossibly handsome.
The sight of him made her heart skip a beat. But that was natural, she told herself quickly. The terrors of the afternoon had heightened her emotions. They would soon fade. But she couldn’t repress a smile as she saw him, and her heart went right on beating fast.
‘You haven’t told me yet where we’re going,’ she said when they were in the taxi.
‘The Jacaranda,’ he said, grinning. Then he took her hand and said, ‘You’re beautiful.’ But he saw her shake her head. ‘What? What have I said?’
‘You sounded like the others. I don’t want you to do that.’
‘Then I won’t,’ he said, alarmed.
Not until they reached the restaurant and were seated, waiting for the wine, did he speak again, saying severely, ‘What’s this about “the others”? As a good brother I demand to know.’
‘I like to be entertained in style, and I’m not short of offers,’ she said lightly.
‘Doesn’t Erik mind?’
‘Not in the slightest.’
‘So what’s the big deal with Erik? Are you two engaged or not?’
‘I told you we weren’t.’
‘Yes, but you’ve also been mighty mysterious. What did he say to you that could only be said here?’
Helen’s lips twitched. ‘First, he wanted to give me this,’ she said, touching the gold chain and locket.
‘That must have set him back a few hundred dollars.’
‘Nearly a thousand, actually.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ He sounded edgy. ‘And you say you’re not engaged?’
‘It was a kind of goodbye and apology.’
‘He’s got someone else?’
‘He’s always had someone else. I was a “front” to fool the world-’
‘The jerk!’
‘-while he plucked up courage to “come out”.’
Lorenzo stared. ‘You mean-?’
‘I’ve met the “someone else”. His name’s Paul. He’s very nice.’
Lorenzo covered his eyes with his hand, struggling to control himself. He failed, and the next moment he’d burst out laughing.
Helen laughed with him. But behind the laughter she was musing on the things she couldn’t tell him: the sudden seriousness in Erik’s face as he’d said,
‘I knew you’d forgive me, my dear, because it’s been obvious to me for some time that you were in love with Lorenzo. You don’t mind my saying so, do you?’
She had minded, but she supposed his mistake was understandable.
‘Now I think of it,’ she said, ‘the way he courted me was always like a performance. Lots of romantic gestures, but he never really got close. I barely noticed because I didn’t care about him that way.’ She glanced up. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘I’m not,’ Lorenzo said, hastily wiping the silly grin from his face. It was crazy but suddenly he could hear birdsong.
The waiter arrived with the wine, and soon as they were alone he toasted her.
‘To your exam success,’ he said.
‘Thank you. I owe it all to Gigi. What a sweet thought. How did you come to think of a bear? Most people are conventional and just send flowers.’
‘Conventional? Me? You know I never do what the other guys-’ His voice ran down. Something about the gleam in her eyes, plus some worrying entries on a recent credit card statement, told him the worst. ‘Did you-get anything else from me?’
‘Only three bunches of flowers. And three cards.’
He groaned.
‘I tried to tell you when we talked that night, but something you said made me realise you hadn’t meant the flowers to arrive.’
‘I thought they might send the wrong signals, so I cancelled them. But then I got my credit card statement and there they all were.’
Her lips twitched. ‘I loved the cards.’ A wild impulse made her add, ‘especially the first one.’
‘That one said-?’
‘Love and best wishes.’
‘Yes-well, you know how it is-in that sort of message-you say “love”, but-’
‘But what?’
‘But-I don’t know.’
‘Neither do I.’
The silence was jagged. Helen looked up to find Lorenzo watching her, and everything they had tried to deny was in his eyes. She was back in the first night, in his arms, feeling his scorching lips on hers, growing dizzier, crazier.
But then she pulled herself firmly together. What happened that night had been a passing moment, and if she had ached for him ever since that was nobody’s concern but hers.
‘We may have a problem here,’ Lorenzo said at last, speaking with caution.
‘Not-necessarily,’ she replied, trying to sound firm.
‘Oh!’ He sounded deflated. ‘I thought maybe you-sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Of course I-it doesn’t have to be a problem unless we let it. It’s really only what happened this afternoon, me thinking you might be dead-’
‘And me thinking I’d never see you again-’
‘Exactly. That sort of thing makes people emotional, but only for a while. It doesn’t
‘Of course it doesn’t,’ he said resolutely.
‘So if we’re sensible, and don’t get it out of proportion-not let it spoil things-’
‘Fine. Ah, here’s the first course. Looks good.’
After that no more was said on the dangerous subject. Helen didn’t feel she’d handled it very well, and half hoped he’d bring it up again. When he didn’t she felt depressed. But he didn’t notice. He seemed rather depressed himself.
Three precious days in New York, so eagerly anticipated, seemed to shrink to nothing. There was a working lunch with Erik, at which Lorenzo was at his best, realising that he’d always misjudged this splendid man. There was a stream of visits to customers old and new. His mobile was never silent.
