Two steps further back and a brief nod. ‘Sure. I’ll leave it on a piece of paper on the front desk. Now, I really must dash…meet some of the other parents… Very nice to meet you…’
Her eyes flickered across to Alessandro, then away. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was sipping his wine, his eyes drifting in boredom across the room, indifferent to her babbling. An insignificant teacher. Why should he be interested in anything she had to say? He didn’t even remember who she was!
For the next hour Megan kept her distance from them, but time and again she found herself seeking him out in the crowd. He was always easy to spot. He dominated the room—and not just with his powerful physical presence. He looked as though he owned the space around him and only the special chosen few were invited in.
She should really have stayed to the end, until after all the parents had departed, because a few of the teachers were planning on going out for a drink, but with her nervous system in total meltdown she fetched her coat, scribbled the wretched phone number and address on a piece of paper, which she left on the front desk, and headed for the underground.
It was a sturdy walk from the school, away from the chaos of expensive cars bearing the little darlings back home. After a few minutes there was only the sound of her boots on the pavement and the usual delightful London noises. The distant thrum of traffic, the occasional high-pitched whine of a police siren, the muted voices of people passing her.
Hunched into her coat and with her head down, braced against the freezing wind, Megan only became aware of the car after it had stopped right in front of her—and she only became aware of it then because she nearly crashed into the passenger door, which had been flung open.
Two words. ‘Get in!’
Megan bent and peered into the car. She knew the driver of the car. Of course she did. She would have recognised that voice anywhere.
‘Drop dead.’ She slammed the door shut with such ferocity that she was surprised it didn’t fall off its hinges.
The cool walk had restored some of her sanity, and she had figured out why he hadn’t seen fit to say that they had met before. He was a successful city gent now, engaged to be married to his female counterpart. Why spoil the rosy picture by announcing any connection to a lowly teacher? Even before he had become successful—which he undoubtedly was, if the suit and the car were anything to go by—he had ditched her because she had been inappropriate to his long-term plans. How much more inappropriate would she be now?
The car cruised alongside her, its window now rolled down, and she heard him say with lazy intent, ‘You can either get in, or else I’ll pay you a little visit at your house. Your choice.’
Megan looked through the window. ‘What are you doing, Alessandro? I thought you didn’t recognise me.’
‘Naturally I recognised you. I just didn’t see fit to launch into an explanation of how our paths had crossed. Wrong time, wrong place.’
The baldness of that statement only skimmed the surface of the shock he had felt on seeing her. To have your past leap out at you and grab you by the throat… He had felt driven to do this—to follow her on her way home—although now that he had Alessandro was beginning to wonder what would be achieved. Curiosity had got the better of him—maybe that had been it?
Somewhere in his seven-year meteoric rise to power, curiosity had become a rare luxury. His gift for money-making in the complex world of derivatives had engineered a swift rise to giddy, powerful heights. It had also provided him with more than sufficient disposable cash to move effortlessly into acquisitions. Alessandro had everything that money could buy, but the ease with which he had made millions had left him with a jaded palette. After his initial shock on seeing Megan, his curiosity to find out what she had been up to in the past seven years had been overpowering and irresistible, and—face it—he could indulge his curiosity. He could indulge anything he wanted to.
‘What do you want?’
‘Get in the car, Megan. It’s been a long time. It would be bizarre not to play a little catch-up game, don’t you think?’
‘I think it’s bizarre that you left your fiancée so that you could follow me.’
‘Old friends meeting up. Victoria would have no problem with that. Thankfully she’s not a possessive woman. I’ll drop you home. It’s a ridiculous night to be…doing what? Catching a bus? Taking a tube somewhere?’
‘Go away.’
‘Not still playing childish games, are you, Megan? You know you’re as curious to find out about me as I am to find out about you, so why fight it?’
Megan got in. For one thing the wind was whipping her coat all over the place. For another the tube would be packed and uncomfortable, and quite possibly not running to schedule. And, yes, she was curious. He had been an important piece of her past, and maybe catching up, hearing all about his bright, shiny new life, would provide her with the tools for closure.
‘Nice car.’ She took in the walnut dashboard and the plush leather seats. ‘I don’t know much about cars, but I’m thinking that you climbed up that ladder without taking too many knocks on the way up, Alessandro.’ She couldn’t prevent the note of bitterness that had crept into her voice—a leftover from the hurt all that time ago.
‘Did you ever think that I wouldn’t?’ He wasn’t looking at her. His concentration was entirely on the road and on the illuminated map on his dashboard, detailing directions to her house. He had got the address from the scrap of paper she had left at the front desk, and had punched it into his navigation system as soon as he had got into his car, having safely seen Victoria and Dominic to a taxi.
Not looking at her, but still seeing her in his head, he thought she looked exactly as she had all those years ago. Curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, full mouth that always looked on the verge of laughing. He had had no choice but to follow her.
‘Arrogance isn’t a very nice trait.’
‘Who’s being arrogant? I’m being realistic. And nice isn’t a trait that gets anyone very far in the business world. What are you doing in London, anyway?’
‘Oh, I forgot. I was supposed to be a little country girl who was destined to stay in the country.’
‘You’re bitter.’
‘Can you blame me?’
‘I did what was necessary. For both of us. In life, we all do.’
His casual dismissal of her feelings was as hurtful as if he had taken a knife and twisted it into her. ‘So…you live in London? Have you made a name for yourself? I know that was top of your list of things to do. Oh, along with making lots of money.’
‘Yes, to your first question—and as far as making money, let’s just say that I’m not living hand-to-mouth.’
‘You mean, you’re rich?’
‘Filthy rich,’ he agreed easily.
‘You must feel very pleased with yourself that your plan worked out, Alessandro.’ And the very suitable lawyer with her posh voice was obviously part two of his plan. He had dumped all handicaps and moved on, with the same relentless focus that she had seen in him years ago. ‘And how did you meet…Dominic’s mother?’ she asked, twisting the knife herself now.
‘Work,’ Alessandro said abruptly.
‘She tells me that she’s a corporate lawyer.’
‘The top of her field.’
‘Guess she ticks all the boxes, then.’ Megan thought of all the boxes she had failed to tick—but wasn’t it stupid to still be bitter after all this time? He had moved on with his life and so,