Mind made up, he stepped onto the path and then he stepped back again.
What was he doing? He could hardly interrupt Rebecca’s date. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say to her. He just couldn’t get past the sense of panic that had hit him ever since she’d walked out. If anything, it had intensified until it burned, like a bad case of indigestion. Idly he rubbed at his sternum, unable to keep still.
He paced up and down again, taking his anxiety out on the poor shrub.
With another heavy sigh, he stepped out of the shadows, ignoring the nausea rolling in his stomach, and walked into the restaurant, trying to act nonchalantly.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked Antonio, leaning on the bar and taking a surreptitious look around.
‘All fine, boss. Did you want something? A drink?’
‘Er, no.’ He glanced to the opposite corner and spotted Rebecca, her head blocked by the back of Will’s. ‘Actually, I’ll have a glass of red wine. I’ll just sit here.’
‘I can get you a table.’
‘No, it’s fine.’
He sipped his wine, eking it out, watching every dish that came and went in and out of the restaurant, much to the increasing consternation of the waiters. Every now andthen he’d turn and pretend to survey the room when in fact he was trying to see what sort of expression Rebecca had on her face. Unfortunately, all he could see was her hands, moving as she talked, her face hidden behind Will’s ridiculous, messy mop of hair.
He was ready to order a second glass when he saw Antonio bring out a bucket of champagne from the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows in question.
‘The gentleman on table nine asked for it to be put on ice.’
Cold horror struck him and he watched the progress of the bucket being borne to the table. He saw Will lift Rebecca’s hand, although he couldn’t see what was happening after that because once again the man’s stupidly large head hid her from view. Nausea swirled in his stomach. He had to get out of here. In his hurry to escape, he turned abruptly and crashed into one of the bar stools which screeched across the tile floor. Rebecca looked up– of course she did– and he felt the slow roll of his stomach as her eyes met his. Jealousy and irritation mingled in an unpleasant cocktail as Antonio put the bucket on the table.
It didn’t take a genius to work things out. Champagne.
Will had asked her to marry him.
How did Felipe begin to compete with that?
He finished his fourth length in the pool, forcing back his burning shoulders, trying to catch his breath, and looked back towards the house.
No sign of Rebecca this morning. He desperately wanted to apologise to her for upsetting her last night before she met Will. His comments had been crass and stupid.
With a sigh, he launched into another length.
Of course she was tucked up in bed with Will. The thought scoured his stomach, reminding him that the decision to take the rest of the bottle of red back to his office hadn’t been his finest.
The hope that she might come down for her regular swim faded and he sighed. He wanted to see her. Speak to her. Find out how she felt. Was she engaged? Was she happy? Was this the right thing for her? He ought to apologise to her too… but he didn’t believe Will loved her, not the way she should be loved. But if she was happy, who was he to deny her that? Especially not when Will could offer a ring and all that it entailed.
He realised he was grinding his back teeth and swam another length, keeping a look out for anyone emerging from the farmhouse.
When he checked his watch to find it was just after seven, he realised that by now she’d be getting ready for her 7:30 Pilates class.
Twenty minutes later, showered and dried, Felipe rolled his shoulders, a little self-consciously, when he realised he was the only man in Rebecca’s Pilates class and, more annoyingly, thathe’d missed his chance to speak to her on her own. Even at 7:20, he’d been beaten to the Pilates Pagoda by three other female guests who’d surrounded Rebecca so he couldn’t see her hands. The women all looked to be in their early forties with trim figures and expensive yoga pants and cropped tops. They also looked as if they knew exactly what they were doing.
At least he was fit so he wouldn’t struggle in the class.
Rebecca caught sight of him and offered a tight, grudging, professional smile.
‘Morning, Felipe. Nice of you to join us,’ she said, clearly not meaning a word of it.
‘Nice to be here,’ he said, casting a warm smile at the other women as much to reassure them as to make him feel comfortable.
Rebecca stepped to the front of the class. ‘Please choose a mat.’ They were laid out in two rows of three and the three women took the three mats in the front row.
He shuffled to the back of the class, beginning to regret this now. He’d hoped to catch her on her own and hadn’t thought it through, and now he was committed to doing the class– and at the back, which was annoying because he wanted to get a closer look at her hand.
