Tempted By The Bridesmaid. Annie O'Neil
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Deceit. Honesty. Lies. Weakness.
He had no time in his life for weakness. No capacity for lies.
He forced himself to look Francesca in the eye, knowing there wasn’t an iota of kindness in his gaze. But he still couldn’t give in to the innate need to feel empathy for the position she’d been put in. Or compassion for the tears rising again and again, glossing her eyes and then falling in a steady trickle along her tear-soaked face. How easy it would be to lift a finger and just...
Magari!
Shooting the messenger was a fool’s errand, but he didn’t know how else to react... A knife of rage swept through him. If he never thought about Marina or Marco again it would be too soon.
“It didn’t seem like it was the first time,” Francesca continued, her husky voice starting to break in a vain attempt to salve the ever-deepening wound. “I’m happy to go and get her if you want.”
“Basta! Per favore!”
No need to paint a picture. He almost envied Francesca. Seeing in an instant what he should have known for weeks. He should have ended it before she’d even thought to stray.
“If you want, I’ll do it. Go and get her. I would do it for any friend.”
Francesca shifted from one foot to the other, eyes glued to his, waiting for his response. He’d be grateful for this one day, but right now Francesca was the devil’s messenger and he’d heard enough.
The words came to him—jagged icicles shooting straight from his arctic heart. “I know you mean well, Francesca, but you and I will never be friends.”
* * *
Shell-shocked. That was how Bea had looked for the rest of the day. Not that Fran could blame her. Talk about living a nightmare. She knew better than most that coming to terms with deception on that kind of scale could take years. A lifetime, even, if her father’s damaged heart was anything to go by.
From the look on Luca’s face when they’d finally parted at the basilica he was going to need two lifetimes to get over his girlfriend’s betrayal. Good thing they wouldn’t be crossing paths anytime soon.
“Want me to see if I can find a case of prosecco lying around? A karaoke machine? We could sing it out and down some fizz.”
Fran scanned the hotel suite. The caterers had long been sent away, the decorations had been removed and the staff instructed to keep any and all lurking paparazzi as far away as possible...
“No, thanks, cara. Maybe some water?” Bea asked.
“On it.”
As she poured a glass of her friend’s favorite—sparkling water from the alpine region of Italy—Fran was even more in awe of her friend’s strength. All tucked up in bed, makeup removed, dress unceremoniously wilting like a deflated meringue in the bathroom, Bea looked exhausted, but not defeated.
“Want to tell me anything about this mystery job I’m due to start tomorrow?”
“No.” Bea took a big gulp of water and grinned, obviously grateful for the change of topic. “Although it will make use of both your physio skills and the assistance dogs.”
Fran frowned. “I thought you said she had a doctor looking after her?”
Bea blinked, but said nothing.
“The girl’s in a wheelchair, right? Lower extremities paralyzed?”
“Yeah, but...” Bea tipped her head to the side and gave her friend a hard look. “You’re not going to waste all those years of practicing physio are you?”
“What? Because the person I was stupid enough to go into business with saw me as a limitless supply of cash?”
“You’re clear of that, though, aren’t you?”
Fran grunted.
People? Disappointing. Dogs? They never asked for a thing. Except maybe a good scratch around the ears.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Fran flipped the topic back to Bea. “Don’t you want to stay in the palazzo with your family?”
“And listen to my mother screech on about the disaster of the century? How I’ve ruined the family’s name. The family’s genetic line. Any chance of happiness for the di Jesolos forever and ever. Not a chance. Besides—” she scanned the sumptuous surroundings of the room “—your suite is great and I’d much rather be with you, even if the place does smell all doggy.”
“Does not.” Fran swiped at the air between them with a grin. She’d washed the dogs to within an inch of their lives before they’d checked into Venice’s fanciest hotel. A little trust-fund treat to herself before heading out to this mystery village where Bea had organized her summer job.
“You don’t need to watch over me, you know,” Bea chided gently. “I’m not going to do anything drastic. And you are allowed to take the dress off. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but the wedding’s off!”
“Just wanted to get my money’s worth!” Fran said, knowing the quip was as lame as it sounded.
The truth was, she hadn’t felt so pretty in...years, really. When your workaholic dad bought your clothes from the local menswear shop, there was only so much ironic style a girl could pull off. When she’d graduated to buying her own clothes it had felt like a betrayal even to glance at something pink and frilly. It wasn’t practical.
“Not exactly what a proper engineer would wear, Frannie!”
So much for that pipe dream! It had died along with a thousand others before she’d found her niche in the world of physiotherapy and then, even more perfectly, in assistance-dog training. Dogs. They were who she liked to spend her time with. They were unconditionally loyal and always ridiculously happy to see her. When she had to hand over these two dogs to her mystery charge at the end of the summer...
Fran swallowed down another rush of tears. Bea shouldn’t have to be the one being stoic here. “I’m so sorry, Bea. About doing things the way I did. There just wasn’t time to catch you after I’d seen them, and before I knew it, we were all up there at the altar and—”
“I’m not sorry at all.” Bea said. “I’m glad you said something. Grateful you had the courage when no one else did.”
“That’s pretty magnanimous for someone who just found out they were being cheated on!”
“Others knew. All along. Even my mother.” Bea chased up the comment with a little typical eye roll.
Fran’s hands flew to cover her mouth. Wow. That was just... Wow.
“They were all so desperate for me to be one half of the most enviable couple in Europe. Even if it came at a cost.” She shuddered away the thought. “You were the only one today who was a true friend.”
Fran’s tear ducts couldn’t hold back any longer.
“How can you be so nice about everything when I’ve ruined the best day of your life?”
“Amore! Stop. You were not the one who ruined the day. Besides, I’m pretty sure there will be another best day of my life,” Bea added, with a hint of something left unsaid in her voice.
“Since I barely see you once a year, it would’ve been nice to be honest about something else. Like how ridiculously beautiful you looked today.”
Fran’s heart rose into her throat as at long last Bea’s eyes finally clouded with tears.
“Everyone has their secrets,” Bea whispered.
“Including you?”
Bea looked away. Fair enough. There had to be a full-blown tropical storm going on in that head of hers right now, and if she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself, she was most deserving. Thank heavens her family had the financial