Semua Bab Rule Number One: My Brother's Best Friend : Bab 61 - Bab 70

When I was a child, the living room had been an uncluttered and comfortably furnished space. And in many ways it still was, I thought as I looked around, trying not to listen to the muted but obviously heated discussion in the kitchen. The room was pristinely tidy, with everything in its proper place. It was just that every available surface was covered with mounted photographs. The walls, the mantelpiece, the top of the wall unit, the coffee tables positioned beside the chairs and the settee. Each decorative frame displayed a different picture of Paul, charting his development from gummy-smiling baby to gurning young adult.And yes, just as I'd suspected, there above the hearth was a new wooden frame, decorated with hibiscus flowers, identical to the one my mother had presented to me on my birthday. Though something inside my chest clenched tight as I moved forwards to take a closer look. Because for once, Paul wasn't the only person in the photo.Sure, he was front and centre, aged

Of course, by the time I got back to the shop, my adrenalin-fuelled euphoria had dissipated to guilt-ridden despair. Alice took one look at me as I stumbled through the door and was there in an instant, her arms around me. "No need to ask how that went," she said, before exclaiming, "Sam, you're soaked through!" then, "Oh my darling, don't!" as I promptly burst into tears. "Everything's going to be all right!""It isn't!" I wailed, letting her peel my coat from me, the tightness in my chest making it hard to breathe. "I've just made everything so much w-worse!"She pulled me close again, encouraging me to sob out the whole sorry tale, puncturing my account every now and again with muttered invective. And when at last I was done, she kissed my forehead and steered me towards the comfy chairs outside the changing rooms. "Sit," she insisted in a voice that would brook no argument. "Let's get you dried off a bit.""I'm okay," I croaked but she didn't seem to hear, already en route to the

Funny then, how the words 'it's not too late' kept whirling around my head.The next morning, sitting halfway up the stairs, I peered down through the gloom at my suitcase, parked neatly beside my overnight bag in the hallway. In the end, it had taken me less than half an hour to pack, just as I'd known it would. I'd be travelling light. A few pairs of jeans, an assortment of tops... Well, they were the only clothes I possessed, other than a certain red dress, of course. I'd always used to love clothes. Like Roxy, I used to make my own, but in recent years, I'd somehow got out of the habit of making anything nice for myself. Besides, I'd had no need of a more extensive wardrobe. I wasn't sure of the dress code at Maretti but if I was expected to be suited and booted then I'd just have to go shopping, wouldn't I? It might provide a means of bonding with my new colleagues.I winced at the thought, shifting slightly in an attempt to relieve the numbness in my left buttock. It occurred to

I gazed at him helplessly. Surely the words I'd blurted out yesterday at my parents' house hadn't come as a total surprise to him? "Maybe not my fault, exactly," I said at last. "But you can't tell me that if Mum had been given the choice, she'd have chosen me over Paul?" My voice cracked on his name. "If she could've picked which one of us should live...""Sam." I watched a muscle working in his jaw, saw new lines appearing on his brow as he squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. "Oh sweetheart.""It's not your fault.""It certainly isn't yours." He shook his head slightly. "But I am to blame for a lot of this. I should've done something years ago. I've let things go on for far too long."I touched his arm, stricken by his anguished expression. "You did your best.""Hardly." His lips twisted. "I just kept hoping she'd...""Snap out of it?"I saw the beginnings of a grim smile. "Something like that. I kind of thought when the court case was settled things would start getting back to n

"Here we are."I looked out through the rain-spattered side window as the car drew to a halt and did a double take. "H-here?""Yes, cara. Where else?" He sounded amused.I stared up at the imposing white-washed building, at its arch-shaped windows, at the flags neatly interspersed between ornate balconies bedecked with greenery. And then, as my gaze came back down, I made out the lettering above the portico. Clocked the five gold stars. "But you said—" I stopped, realising Marco was already out of the car and was retrieving my suitcase. "You said the hotel belonged to your uncle," I accused the moment he opened my door. "This is a Lombardi hotel!"He grinned. "Yes and it belongs to my mother's brother," he said, a uniformed porter stepping forward to relieve him of my bag. "Well, okay. To my mother's family, to be accurate.""Your mother's family own the Lombardi hotel chain? The international hotel chain?" My mouth suddenly felt very dry. "All of it?"Laughing now, Marco extended his