The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

‘So, we’ll have a nice dinner and discuss this situation we find ourselves in,’ Cristiano said after a time.

‘Discuss?’ Alice’s voice held a generous note of scorn. ‘You don’t discuss. You command.’

He sent her a smiling glance. ‘And as my wife you will obey.’

Even from the other side of the car he could feel the heat coming off her livid blue glare. ‘They have rewritten the marriage ceremony since the nineteen-fifties, you know. Women no longer have to obey their husbands. Not that you’re going to be my hus—’

‘We’ll have a month-long engagement as the will specifies,’ Cristiano said. ‘You either marry me at the end of it or find yourself paying a rent you can ill afford.’

Her face was a picture of impotent outrage, almost puce instead of her natural creamy colour. ‘You...you bastard.’ Her hands curled into tight little balls as if she was tempted to fly at his face and was only just stopping herself. ‘You scheming bastard.’

He gave a careless shrug. ‘Sticks and stones.’

It was a while before she said anything. Cristiano wondered if she were thinking things over, running her mind over the figures, so to speak. She ran a good business, he had to give her that, but it would not survive a big hike in rent. And to get her to do what he wanted, he was prepared to go as high as it took.

Whatever it took.

‘Why engaged for a month?’ she said. ‘If you’re in such a hurry to get a ring on my finger then why not frogmarch me to a register office right away?’

‘I’m not having anyone speculate on why we’re not having a proper wedding, that’s why,’ Cristiano said, wondering if she was speaking figuratively or if she was changing her mind about marrying him.

‘But you can’t really mean to go to such lengths? I mean, a wedding is a big expense.’

‘I can afford it.’

There was another silence.

‘All right.’ Her breath came out in a whoosh. ‘You win. I’ll marry you.’

Cristiano hadn’t expected such a rapid capitulation. He’d thought she would have fought it a little longer and a little harder. But then he wondered if she had a counter plan. She was clever. Whip-smart and streetwise. What devious plan had she cooked up? Did she intend to make him suffer every minute they were engaged? Did she really think she could outmanoeuvre him? He smiled another private smile.

Who knew this could be so much fun?

‘I’m glad you’re starting to see the positive side of our circumstances. It’s a win-win for both of us, sì?’

The look she gave him would have sent a swarm of wasps running for cover. ‘Everyone’s going to know this is a farce the moment we’re seen out in public together.’

‘Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, tesoro,’ Cristiano said. ‘We’re going to act like a happy and devoted couple at all times and in all public spaces.’

A spluttering noise came from her side of the car. ‘Not on your life—’

‘Apart from when we’re alone,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Then the claws can come out. I’m quite looking forward to it, actually.’ He gave her another goading smile. ‘It will be like old times, yes?’

Her eyes were spitting chips of blue ice, her mouth set in such a tight line her lushly shaped lips all but disappeared. Her whole body seemed to be shaking with rage. He could feel the vibration of it from his side of the car.

‘Why are you doing this? Why? Why? Why?’

Why was he?

Good question. It wasn’t just the shares, although that was a big part of it. It was more the sense of wanting to rewrite the past. To be in control this time. To be in charge of his emotions and passions. To be the one who told her when it was over, not the other way around. He was not going to be that person ever again—the person left behind. He had been that person as a child of eleven.

Left behind by his family.

The shock of that loss had never left him. Sometimes he could still feel that claw of despair in his chest, dragging, tearing at his organs. That terrible day when his grandparents had delivered the devastating news of the death of his parents and brother, he had felt as if he were the only person left on the planet.

Alone.

Abandoned.