Birdie checks her phone. ‘One hour.’
Matteo walks towards me. Birdie hovers by the door because no one has invited her in.
‘Does this mean you’re not leaving today?’ I whisper as he reaches me.
He shakes his head. ‘Doesn’t look like it.’
I half smile.
He half smiles back, his face hidden from Birdie.
Our eyes have a short conversation.
Mine are saying,Yippee. I’ll see you later and perhaps we can pick up where we left off. You saying you love me, and me saying it back because I didn’t get the chance to before.
His are saying,I’ll spend my entire life making up for all of this and I’ll adore you for the rest of time. Probably. Whatever is going through his head, it has brought a sparkle to his eyes.
‘Good luck,’ I say, reaching for his fingers, aware our every move is being monitored. ‘See you later?’
He blinks slowly, a genuine smile spreading across his face, lighting it up. He raises my fingers to his lips and stares at the wedding ring he placed there, before dipping his head to place a light kiss on it. ‘Don’t take it off. We have a lot of unfinished business, Cenicienta.’
His words send a shiver of excitement up my spine as I watch him walk out the door with that annoyingly sexy but firmly rejected French floozy. A smile spreads across my face from ear to ear.
Matteo. Is. In. Love. With. Me.
* * *
The moment they have gone, I race over to the bureau. It is adjacent to the picture window, overlooking the city. My heart is bursting, my pulse is racing, and song lyrics are zipping around my brain like electric sparks. I need to get them out before my head explodes. Matteo and I have been given a glorious second chance to get this right and, this time, I’m determined not to let anything, or anyone, get in the way.
I rip off my wig, kick off my ridiculous skyscraper sandals and tiny Barbie outfit and sling on a hotel silky dressing gown so that I might give in to this overwhelming desire to express my thoughts and feelings.
What seems like seconds later, I am opening a notepad full of scribbles and lyrics. I’m banging out a beat with the pencil, but I need more. I need a piano. Think. Think. That’s it! The Cocktail Hour. Jumping up, I race over to the wardrobe to grab some clothes. I pull on some joggers and immediately spot one of Matteo’s sweaters. Slipping it over my head, I breathe in the manly scent of bergamot and woody spice. Perfect. I hurriedly lace up my sneakers, grab the notepaper and room key and head out into the corridor.
I’m passing by Liberty and Cherry’s room when Cherry bursts out of the door cackling with laughter, stumbling into the corridor. She is dressed to kill. Her flaming-red hair is silky and salon fresh. It contrasts perfectly with her green silk baggy trousers and bra top.
‘Cherry, wait for me, man,’ Liberty is yelling from the room.
‘No time! I’ve missed five fucking days’ worth and I’m going to friggin’ well make up for it. Ooh, look. Connie’s here!’ Cherry launches herself at me in a cloud of tequila fumes.
Liberty pokes her head round the door. ‘You better come in.’
Gah! I’m in the throes of being a musical genius!
‘I’d love to but Matteo… He just said he loves me!’
‘Okay. That’s lovely. Let’s celebrate,’ says Liberty.
Cherry grabs my arm. ‘No, she’s coming with me. We’ll celebrate downstairs.’
‘No,’ says Liberty, grabbing my other arm. ‘We’re all going to go back in the room until we discuss this like adults. What did you say when he said he loves you?’
There’s so much tugging and pulling that none of us notice the door sliding quietly shut.
‘Don’t worry.’ Liberty holds out her hand, palm up. ‘Cherry, where’s your key?’
‘What key?’
‘The room key.’
