Page 47 of Storm in a D Cup

‘Of course.’

Wow. ‘Wait – what do you mean? Am I really, really that much of a control freak?’

Julian unfolded his arms (good sign) and sighed, taking me by the shoulders and speaking softly the way you do to a mental case.

‘Sweetie – yes. You are a complete war chief.’ He grinned, and I knew everything was OK once again.

*

The next morning, after a night with his rocks on the rocks, Julian was much better and we had a good session of (careful) lovemaking and came down the stairs hand in hand like two teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It was amazing, the power of love. And ofmake-up sex.

‘How about an espresso?’ I offered as he kissed me. ‘Not that you need any waking up.’

‘Sì, grazie,’ he said with a grin and I reached for the espresso pot on the top shelf as the house phone rang.

‘Hello!’ Julian answered, all chipper.

‘What the hell, man, your cell is off,’ thundered Terry’s voice over the phone, loud and clear. Jesus, I’d get a new phone system just so I didn’t have to hear the jerk’s voice. ‘I get you Marty Liebermann, the best producer in Hollywood and you won’t evenmeetthe man because yourdogis having surgery?’

Julian glanced at me, his ears turning pink, then stepped away as his hand stole to the back of his neck like whenever he was embarrassed. ‘It’s true,’ Julian lied, now scrubbing his nape.

‘It has to be! I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous!’

‘Terry, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, OK?’

And before Terry could bark back an answer, Julian hung up with a sigh of relief.

I put my hands on my hips in my usual teapot style and looked at him. ‘Sookie is not a spring chicken anymore, but she’s hardly at that stage that she needs surgery, is she? What’s going on, Julian? Why did you skip out on a producer?’

Julian shrugged. ‘I just needed to stay home for a bit, that’s all.’

‘And you turned down a meeting with a Hollywood producer?Why?’

‘It doesn’t matter anymore, Erica. Really. Where’s that espresso you promised me?’

I stared down at the mocha that was still in my hands and tried to twist it open.

‘Here, let me do that,’ Julian said as he took it from me, unscrewed the top and filled the bottom with cold water and kissed me on the lips so tenderly that I wanted to cry. He’d ditched a producer to be home with me at such a tough time for me. I mean forus. And then I understood I had to stop playing goddess, or my version of it.

‘Call Terry back to tell him you’re going to meet Marty Lieberstein.’

‘Liebermann.’

‘Liebermann. Now go call Terry and book your flight. I’ll bring your espresso into your study.’ He looked at me longingly, torn. ‘I don’t want you making more sacrifices than necessary for me, Julian. Go.’

He kissed me again as I packed the coffee down tight so it would come out nice and strong, just the way he liked it, while a million questions roiled around in my mind. I had to stop being a control freak and let things be as they were. I decided right there and then that if anything was going to change, it was me – effective immediately. My heart felt like it was coming out of my ears but hey – this was a new, better me. A stronger me.

*

I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Renata’s slight figure at her gate as she called her dog Argo back. I hadn’t seen her in ages. She had needed some space, and I was too ashamed to show my face for what I’d implied. How could I have been so stupid to think that she would actually have an affair with Leonardo Cortini?

‘Hi from your neighbor, who’s missed you,’ I scarcely managed as I got off my bike and pushed it through the gate.

‘Come in, come in! You must be crazy riding around in this heat.’

‘Only mad dogs and the Foxhams.’

She snickered, and I knew we were OK again, just like that.

---