Her Second Chance in Italy - Chapter 8
Natasha smiled at the server as she poured her a glass of champagne. She was celebrating. Her second night out alone on the trot and she was owning it.
She’d played her hand with Arthur, she’d owned her feelings for him and now she was owning her own company. It felt good…if a little sad too.
‘Thank you.’
She sipped at her drink, enjoyed the fizz and depth flavour on her tongue as she took in her surroundings, shoulders back, eyes attuned to every detail rather than shying away. The bar was abuzz with couples, young through to old, and normally she’d feel bitter, resentful. Why did they still get to have it when it had been stolen away from her so young?
But Arthur had made her realise she could find it again and she would… He couldn’t be her only second chance, could he? The world was big enough for more Jacks, more Arthurs…but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been the one.
The one to heal her, not the one to break her all over again.
‘Is this seat taken?’
A figure appeared by her side—tan shoes, well-cut chinos, tan leather belt, dark shirt, tanned throat and…that scent, those lips, that nose, those eyes. She’d known it was him by the voice, that deep rumble capable of making her shiver and overheat at once, but to see him with her own eyes.
‘Arthur, what are you…’ She shook her head, the champagne flute trembling in her hand as she blinked up at him. Still unable to believe…not daring to hope…
‘I owe you a dinner.’
‘You’re here to eat? But you look like you haven’t slept?’ For all that he set her heart racing, she couldn’t ignore the bruised smudges beneath his eyes, the extra lines to his face too. Dressed impeccably as usual, his hair well-groomed, his face clean-shaven, but there was a worn edge to him, a frenetic energy, like he was bursting with something, though heaven knew what.
‘I haven’t, not really. I flew to New York, did an about-turn and came straight back.’
‘You did?’
‘I never should have left you in the first place, Natasha.’
‘You shouldn’t have?’ Was he serious? Was this some deluded and very real-feeling dream?
‘The second you walked away, you took my life with you.’
‘Arthur, I don’t—’
‘Wait, let me finish. I have this whole grovelling speech prepared and if I don’t get it all out in one, I fear it will all go wrong and I’ll have to ship my daughter in to do my sales pitch for me.’
She choked down a laugh. ‘Your daughter? Really?’
‘She’s already offered.’
She shook her head, eyes wide. This couldn’t be happening…not in a million years… She’d already been lucky in love once, but this…
‘I’m sorry I left you to go back to New York. More than that, I’m sorry I let you go without telling you how I feel about you, about us. I know my track record gives you no reason to trust me, but believe me when I say, I’m ready to move on with my life, I’m ready for my next exciting phase, I’m ready to retire and enjoy what comes next.’
‘The fact you’ve said the R word is progress.’
‘But it’s more than that, Natasha. It took you walking away for me to realise that work wasn’t the reason I wanted to get out of bed for, not any more. I want that reason to be you.’
‘Are you…serious?’
‘Never more so.’ He dropped to his knee before her, took her free hand in his. ‘I think I’m falling for you, Natasha, and if you can see it in your heart to risk a second chance at love with me, I’m all in.’
She stared at him, so many words revolving around her head, her heart and nothing could make it past the wild fluttering in her chest.
‘At the risk of sounding like a teenager again—will you go out with me?’
‘Yes!’ she gasped out, placing her glass down to cup his cheeks in her palms. Tears filled her vision, her smile wavering as she tried again. ‘Yes, oh yes!’
Resounding applause broke out around them, the server appeared with another glass of champagne, all of it happening at once, and before she knew it, she was being swept up in his arms, his kiss as warm and inviting as his hold around her.
‘Can I ask you something?’ he broke away to say.
‘Anything.’
‘On a scale of one to ten, where would you put my attempt at grovelling?’
She raised her brows.
‘My daughter will ask…’
She laughed. ‘In that case, I’d say you’re a six.’
‘Only a six!’
‘But don’t worry, the night’s yet young, there’s plenty of time for more practice, both here and…’ She looked to the ceiling where many floors above her room resided.
‘I’m all for that…though best not tell my daughter how I got upgraded from a six to a ten.’
‘If she’s anything like mine, she’ll know it all already.’
He gave a mock shudder that made her laugh all the more. ‘Are you ready for that dinner now?’
‘I’m ready for all our life together has in store.’
‘You and me both.’
‘Mum!’
Mum? Oh no, that voice, that intonation… She thrust Arthur back to look over his shoulder. ‘Simone!’
Her daughter gaped at them both, her coat buttoned high, a suitcase still in hand.
‘You’re early, sweetheart.’
‘And you’re—you’re—what is this exactly?’ Her daughter waved a hand up and down, her stunned eyes taking it all in and hitting an accurate conclusion. ‘I wanted to surprise you…but it seems you’re the one doing all the surprising.’
Natasha looked at Arthur, her cheeks aflame, her smile sheepish. ‘Arthur, meet my daughter Simone. Simone, meet Arthur, my—my boyfriend.’
***
One Year Later
Hart Hotel, New York City
‘Are you ready for this?’ she asked, clutching Arthur’s hand as they stepped into the speakeasy-style rum bar playing host to her daughter’s 1920s-inspired engagement party.
Arthur looked particularly slick in his Great Gatsby get-up. Her own, a bronze sequin number with matching headpiece that dazzled, if not succeeded in blinding passersby, but the glint in Arthur’s eye each and every time he looked at her made it worth every flamboyant second.
He squeezed her hand gently. ‘I should be asking you that question.’
‘It’s my family.’
‘And yet you haven’t seen Joel in how long?’
‘Too long, and I’m still not convinced he’ll show.’
‘He said he would.’
‘I know, I know. But it’s too much to hope that tonight I won’t just have you by my side, I’ll have all my children here too and it feels too perfect to believe.’
‘Well believe it.’
‘Why is it when you tell me that, I could believe anything?’
They paused. Around them the room buzzed with laughter and chatter, the music from a live pianist adding to the fun-filled ambience, but in that moment, she only had eyes for him.
‘I think that’s the power of love, sweetheart.’
She smiled up at him. ‘I think you’re right, Arthur. I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Her Second Chance in Italy is the prequel story to Billionaire’s Island Temptation and Consequence of Their Forbidden Night by Rachael Stewart.
Check out her Billionaires for the Rose Sisters duet here.