In a heartbeat (Heartbeat #1) Page 19

  She’d never been so jealous in her life, although she knew perfectly well that she had no right to be jealous of Max or angry with him. She wasn’t his girlfriend and he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

  And yet, the thought of him with someone else drove her completely insane.

  Then she got angry with Lisa; if her cousin had been here they could have gone out too, had some fun, got their minds off things. But she wasn’t and Stella was stuck in the house, alone and restless.

  Just then, her phone beeped. Before she’d even looked at it, her mum’s words echoed in her head:

  Everything happens for a reason ... nothing is a coincidence ... sometimes we have to take risks and explore the possibilities presented in front of us.

  She hoped the text was from Max, saying how bored he was and how he wished she was there.

  But it wasn’t.

  Rico: Hey, you wanna go out tomorrow? See a movie?

  Stella: How about tonight?

  Rico: Sure. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.

  That was her chance of getting out of the house. If she stayed any longer she’d go completely mad. And besides, why shouldn’t she go out with Rico? If Max was free to go out and pick up girls with Beppe, why shouldn’t she go out with Rico to see a goddamn film?

  Stella got dressed quickly in a simple navy dress and high-heeled sandals. She left her hair loose around her shoulders and put some mascara and lip gloss on. Taking her bag, she headed downstairs to wait for Rico.

  Her aunt came home just then.

  “Oh, hey, honey. Are you going out?”

  “Yeah. I’m waiting for someone to pick me up.”

  “Oh? Is Lisa coming?” Niki took her shoes off and headed for the kitchen, Stella following her.

  “No. She’s working tonight.” For a moment Stella contemplated telling her aunt about Lisa, but decided against it. She’d try to talk to her cousin again first, and then alert the big guns.

  “All right, have a good night then. And make sure whoever’s picking you up drops you off as well. I don’t want you walking around town alone at night.” Stella nodded in agreement and, kissing her aunt, walked out of the front door just as Rico’s black Honda Civic was parking in the driveway.

  She sat down next to him, exchanging the customary kisses on both cheeks, and they drove off. Stella was nervous in the car – she trusted Max and didn’t feel on edge when he drove, but being in another car with someone she barely knew was a bit unnerving. Not wanting to show her fear and seem weird, she plastered a smile on her face and kept it there right until they had parked at the cinema.

  Rico was the perfect gentleman – he never allowed uncomfortable silences to settle in, effortlessly keeping up the small talk. He was actually a very nice guy, quite smart and funny. Soon Stella started to enjoy herself, and managed to push Max completely out of her mind.

  They saw the latest summer blockbuster, watching New York city get destroyed for the millionth time. Rico didn’t make any move on her in the darkness of the cinema, and Stella managed to completely relax, enjoy the movie and the popcorn, and forget about the world, at least for two hours.

  She was so glad she’d gone out tonight.

  When the film was over, Rico led her out of the cinema, but not towards the parking lot.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I know this ice-cream place not far from here. It’s a warm night, so let’s take a walk and grab some ice cream.” He smiled encouragingly at her and tugged on her hand.

  There were a lot of people out and about; it was Friday night, after all. Stella wasn’t tired yet, so what harm could it do to go and have an ice cream? The ice-cream shop really wasn’t far away. They bought a bowl full of three different flavours each and headed back, walking slowly, savouring every bite.

  Soon the ice cream started to melt, and as Stella scooped some with her spoon and carried it towards her mouth, some of it spilled on the front of her dress. Rico, like the gentleman he was, offered a tissue, but Stella had the bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other and couldn’t take it. He then gently started to clean the blob of ice cream and Stella giggled at his nervousness. His whole demeanour changed in that moment, and his eyes grew serious as he dipped his head down, and enveloping her in his arms, kissed her.

  She was stunned, because he hadn’t made any move towards her all evening until then, not even a teasing comment – and then out of nowhere he kissed her!

  His lips were cold and tasted like ice cream. It was a good kiss, but nothing compared with Max’s kisses. If Max’s lips had never touched hers, she probably would have enjoyed kissing Rico. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and she didn’t feel anything while the kiss lasted, or afterwards. Gently pushing him away, Stella looked at him quizzically.

  “Sorry: I just ... I’ve wanted to do that ever since that night in the club. I meant to wait until later tonight, but I just ... couldn’t.” He seemed a bit embarrassed about it and Stella decided against making him feel worse. She just smiled and nodded, and they headed back towards the car.

  *

  Max walked out of the bar with Beppe on his heels. His night was going from bad to worse. His friend kept pushing those women on him, but he wasn’t interested. Beppe had complained that Max wasn’t a very good wing man and he would probably be going home empty-handed tonight. They had decided to change bars, because Max had grown incredibly restless.

  As they headed towards the other bar Beppe had in mind, Max stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Stella was on the other side of the street with Rico – and he was kissing her.

  His vision blurred and he saw red. Rage was not a strong enough word to describe how he was feeling inside. Max was barely aware of Beppe tugging on his arm, trying to lead him away from the scene developing before them.

  “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” Max growled, just as Beppe dragged him into a side street.

  “Calm down, man.” Beppe had his hand on Max’s chest, keeping him from running off in their direction.

  “Calm down? Calm down?” Max shouted. “He was kissing her! He had his hands all over her. I’m going to fucking kill him. Let go of me!” he continued, shouting and trying to push Beppe away, but he was strong, even though not as big as Max.

  “Either calm down, or I’m going to pin you to the ground until you do. Your choice.” Beppe’s voice was cold and uncompromising, and seemed to catch Max’s attention. He nodded and Beppe removed his hand. Max swore loudly, and shoved his hands through his hair.

  “I can’t believe this. I thought we had something. Why did she go out with him?”

  “She’s not your girlfriend, man. You’re out picking up girls.”

  “I’m here because of you. You forced me to leave her and come to be your wing man. Come to think of it, this is all your fault. You introduced her to that sleazebag the first night we all went out.”

  “Don’t try and pin your irrational behaviour on me. That night you had Antonia all over you, if I remember correctly. How was I supposed to know you had feelings for Stella?”

  Max was pacing back and forth, not even hearing what Beppe was saying. His head was dizzy with confusion, anger and disappointment.

  “This is all fucked up. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of swinging back and forth with her, and just when I think we have something she goes out with someone else and kisses him in the middle of the fucking street.”

  “Max, you need to calm down. I hate to say this, but you’re slipping up, man. I don’t like it. What would have happened if I wasn’t here right now?” Max stopped pacing, his eyes growing cold. “Would Rico be in hospital? Just like the last time you lost control?”

  Max’s body grew rigid as he straightened his shoulders, determination flooding his cold eyes.

  “I’m not that person anymore and you know it. When are you going to stop throwing my past in my face? Am I doing that to you every fucking chance I get?”


  “I’m sorry,” Beppe said, raising his hands in front of him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m still worried about you, though.”

  “You don’t have to be. It’s over, I’m done.”

  He walked off, leaving Beppe to go to the next bar alone.

  *

  When Rico parked the car in the driveway to drop Stella off, he turned towards her and went for another kiss. She moved away.

  “Look, Rico, you’re a nice guy and I had a really good time tonight,” she began as he pulled away from her in confusion. “But I don’t want to string you along. I have feelings for someone else.”

  Rico nodded, understanding flooding his eyes.

  “Max?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have gone out with you.”

  “No, Stella, it’s fine. I had fun, I’m glad we went out.”

  Stella nodded and without saying another word, got out of the car.

  Chapter Twenty

  Walking into the luxurious ‘Giuseppe Mazzini’ private medical centre always felt surreal. It was a modern building, huge and oddly shaped like a cube on one side and a pyramid on the other. Inside, the lobby was all white marble, modern art on the walls, a water feature on the left wall and a huge stainless-steel and glass reception desk on the right. It was bright and airy owing to the enormous amount of glass everywhere – the walls, the ceiling, the stairs.

  Lisa greeted the receptionist – today it was Martha, the nicer one – and signed her name on the visitors’ list. Then she headed up the stairs and down the long corridor with doors on both sides.

  She was looking for room number 256 and she knew exactly where it was – at the end of the corridor, right next to the huge window overlooking the clinic’s private grounds. Knocking softly on the door, but not expecting any answer, she waited five seconds and walked in.

  The room was large and lavish. It had a king-size bed, a walk-in closet, en suite bathroom, and a sitting area with sofas, coffee table and flat-screen TV. It was designer-decorated in neutral colours with just a hint of colour here and there, like the deep-red curtains, the brown leather sofas and the soft green rug between the bed and the sitting area.

  The ‘Giuseppe Mazzini’ medical centre catered only to the very rich. It admitted patients with long-term illnesses, ranging from depression and mental health to cancer and immobility issues, who needed round-the-clock care that couldn’t be provided at home. As Lisa saw it, it was a luxurious prison to the vulnerable who’d been cast out by their wealthy families, who at least had the decency to provide them with the best care available.

  Gino was at his usual spot next to the window, sitting in his wheelchair and looking outside, not really seeing anything. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, just as he never did. Lisa left her bag on the sofa and walked over to him, leaning on the windowsill. She looked at him, drinking in his perfect features – his straight nose, high cheekbones, luscious pink lips, blue eyes, dark eyelashes. His hair was freshly washed and combed, but he had some stubble on his cheeks. They bathed the patients here every day, but Gino seemed to prefer shaving only once a week. How the staff knew that was beyond her, because he never talked. Not once had he said a word to Lisa, or even looked in her direction since she’d started to visit him.

  Was it just her? Did he talk to anybody else?

  They were really big on confidentiality here, so she couldn’t ask anyone. All she knew was that he was here for severe depression. Ever since what had happened, Gino had shut out the world around him. The light in his blue eyes was completely gone.

  He’d had surgery on his spine and the doctors were ninety per cent sure they’d been able to fix his broken vertebra, but without any physiotherapy they couldn’t be completely certain. Gino had refused physio and hadn’t even tried to get up from his wheelchair. As far as Lisa knew, he never did anything. She’d never seen him have the TV on, or have a book, magazine, even an iPod lying around. His room was always in perfect order, as though he never touched anything.

  Every time Lisa signed the visitors’ register, she glanced around it to check if any of Gino’s family or friends had been to visit. So far she’d found a pattern of his mother visiting once every fortnight, at best. That was it. Nobody else. They had locked him in here, ashamed of their golden-boy heir.

  “Hi, Gino,” she said, even though she knew he wouldn’t reply. Lisa didn’t care. She wouldn’t stop coming here, if that was what he wanted. At some point he was going to look at her, he was going to reply to her greeting. Until then, she talked to him about her life, about her jobs, about her art, about films she’d seen or new albums she’d downloaded. Sometimes she played him some music from her iPod or read to him from the newspaper or a book. He knew more about her than anyone: but that’s what happened when you talked for hours about yourself without anyone interrupting you.

  The only thing she hadn’t told him was how her father had died, but neither of them was ready for that yet.

  “Ready for our walk?” she said, and pushed the wheelchair towards the door. Every time she visited, Lisa took him outside to get some fresh air. The clinic’s private grounds were beautiful. Paved paths weaved through endless lawns, hidden from the outside world by huge trees all around the edges of the property. There was a small lake with alcoves and picnic tables around, and it was a favourite place for the patients and their families to gather.

  Lisa pushed the wheelchair along a path absent-mindedly, thinking how hiding her visits to Gino from everyone took its toll on her. The stress had proved too much two days ago when, after coming to see him, she went to the gallery and every little thing annoyed her. All she could think about afterwards was going to a bar, getting drunk and probably sleeping with a random guy, just so she could erase Gino from her mind.

  Lisa needed to share her secret with someone, but there was no one she could trust to support her decision. Max, Stella and her mum would never understand why she was doing this, and – even worse – they’d probably be horrified.

  No, there was no one she could trust to help her carry her burden. She was on her own.

  Chapter Twenty One

  “Stella, wake up,” someone said, stroking her cheek. She opened one eye and saw Lisa sitting on her bed.

  “What? Why? What time is it?” It certainly seemed too early to be awake.

  “It’s 7 o’clock.”

  “Why exactly do I have to get up at seven on a Saturday?”

  “Mum and I have a surprise for you. Come on, get washed and we’ll see you in the kitchen in ten.” Lisa hopped off the bed, while Stella groaned. Her crazy cousin was definitely travelling the bipolar road.

  “I made coffee,” Lisa called as she opened the bedroom door. “The sooner you get up, the sooner you’ll feel the caffeine working its magic in your body.” She closed the door, not too gently, and Stella sighed. Flicking her covers off, she stomped to the bathroom and began brushing her teeth.

  “So what’s up?” Stella asked, wrapping her fingers around a coffee mug and taking the first amazing sip. Lisa and Niki were holding their own cups, grinning like Cheshire cats and looking at her. Since she’d arrived, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d seen them looking so genuinely happy.

  “Well,” Lisa said and sat down at the table. “We haven’t been really good to you. Especially me.”

  Stella opened her mouth to protest but Lisa raised a hand to silence her.

  “It’s true. We’ve both been working a lot and even when I wasn’t, I haven’t been a really good friend, because I’ve been too wrapped up in my own issues. So, to make up for that, and to spoil ourselves this weekend, we’re going to Milan!” She left her cup on the table and clapped excitedly.

  “Really? Now?” Both Lisa and Niki nodded excitedly. “Wow! That’s amazing, I’ve always wanted to go there. Thank you!” She hugged them both in turn and couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Finish your coffee and go and pack an overnight bag, honey,” Niki said. “We have to
leave in about an hour if we want to take full advantage of the weekend.”

  Stella didn’t need to be told twice.

  The drive to Milan took about two hours. Niki had booked them a hotel in the city centre, so that they could leave the car and explore the breathtaking city on foot.

  Stella had read the tourist guide Lisa had lent her in the car, and both her aunt and her cousin had encouraged her to choose what she wanted to see, because they’d been to Milan many times and had seen most things.

  Considering they had less than two full days, Stella had to choose wisely. Their first stop was the Duomo – Italy’s most famous cathedral. No wonder it took five hundred years, and counting, to build. Standing before the Duomo, Stella felt insignificant, small, ugly. Taking the lift, they climbed to the cathedral’s roof where they could walk around and enjoy a full view of the city. It felt like standing on top of the world – Milan stretched below them and further away they could see the Alps standing guard between Italy and the rest of Europe.

  Next, they visited the Pinacoteca di Brera art museum, which hosted art by Italy’s most famous and distinguished artists like Mantegna's ‘Dead Christ’, a moving ‘Pietà’ by Giovanni Bellini and Caravaggio's ‘Supper at Emmaus’. Stella chose that particular museum because she knew Lisa loved it and also because just behind it was Orto Botanico di Brera – a five-thousand-square-metre botanical garden. At this time of the year it was incredible – all the flowerbeds were blooming and their scent filled the air all around the garden. It was like an oasis of calm in the middle of the busy city. They walked around for a while, breathing the fresh-smelling air, and relaxed on a bench to have a little rest and eat the sandwiches they’d bought from the nearby snack stall.