Entwined Fates

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Geneva International Airport

Saturday, October 17, 2009

6:00 p.m.

“I don’t believe it. I don’t.” Sophia shook her head, baffled. “I received a message and a phone call from your company saying our flight had been changed to eight o’clock this evening due to the weather.”

“Je suis desolée. Your flight has already departed.”

“You’re sorry, my ass,” Valentina murmured in Portuguese from behind her.

Sophia fished her iPhone from her bag and showed the attendant the message. “Then transfer me to another. Here is the message.”

“You owe me a thousand pounds, Allenthorp.” Ethan watched the scene from a seat a few feet away.

“No, I don’t. Our bet didn’t include you cheating and arranging to send fake messages from the airline company. Sometimes, I don’t know how you can live with yourself, Ashford.”

“I can see you’ve never read Machiavelli’s Dell’Arte della Guerra.” He frowned slightly, remembering the exact words. “He taught, ‘Though fraud in all other actions be odious, yet in matters of war it is laudable and glorious.’ And, ‘He who overcomes his enemies by stratagem is as much to be praised as he who overcomes them by force.’ Although, she isn’t an enemy, I followed his instruction to the letter.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, she’s not alone.” Leonard was clearly annoyed. “And if she discovers your plot?”

“Another quote from Machiavelli for you, Allenthorp. ‘All courses of action are risky, so prudence is not in avoiding danger, but calculating risk and acting decisively’.”

“I just don’t agree with how Machiavelli’s beliefs are applied here. Not always ‘the end justifies the means’.”

“Bravo, Allenthorp. A true lawyer speaking. Don’t be a boring moralist now. We have a ride to offer.” He stood and walked up to Sophia.

The attendant finished typing and looked at Sophia. “There are no more flights this evening, madam. I’m sorry, again.”

“This isn’t happening.” Sophia shook her head.

Felipe put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “Sis, it’s okay—”

“It seems I have to rescue you again, darling.” A deep voice came from behind Sophia.

Felipe, Valentina, and Sophia pivoted to find Ethan and Leonard at the corner of the counter.

“Ethan!” She smiled at him. “What a coincidence. I thought you were going back yesterday.”

“No. My meeting only concluded late this morning. And I convinced Allenthorp to join me for lunch at l’Auberge du Lion D’Or.”

“Hmm. We went there on Thursday.” She nodded, absently. “Let me introduce you, this is Felipe and Valentina, my older brother and youngest sister.” She turned to Felipe and Valentina as her hand flicked in the air toward the men. “Leonard Allenthorp, the Duke of Galewick, and Mr. Ethan Ashford.”

Leonard immediately interjected, “Oh, no, please. There’s no need for formality.” He stretched out his hand to Felipe. “Leonard Allenthorp. How do you do?”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Felipe replied, shaking Leonard’s hand. “Mr. Ashford.”

The men greeted Valentina.

“So, Sophia, ready for another ride?” Ethan asked.

“Another ride?” Felipe looked at her, surprised.

“My flight was cancelled due to a snowstorm. Ethan gave me a ride here, saving my day. His plane already had permission to depart.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Felipe said surprised.

“It was…” she stopped herself quickly. “Ah…we had so many things to talk about that I forgot, my dear.”

Leonard looked amused.

You won’t forget about me so easily, Sophia. “May I offer my hospitality again? There is enough space for all of us.”

“Sophia?” Felipe looked over at her, waiting for instructions. A normally talkative Valentina quietly surveyed the conversation.

“It’ll be a pleasure,” Ethan interjected, his voice low.

Sophia stared at Ethan.

He gave her his most dazzling smile.

“Yes, I think so. It seems that I’m in your debt again.”

“Don’t worry, darling.” Ethan smiled wolfishly at her. I’ll collect in due time.

London, The City, Fleet Street

Leibowitz Oil Building

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

10:10 a.m.

“But Sophia—” The intercom buzz interrupted Edward.

Sophia pressed the speaker button. “Yes, Sarah?”

“Mr. Ashford on line three.”

Sophia faintly blushed as Edward gave her a knowing smile.

Edward had started working for Leibowitz Oil as a trainee. His rise to the CEO position had taken eighteen years. He’d been Sophia’s good friend since her marriage to Gabriel. And after Gabriel’s death, Sophia had relied on him more and more.

“He said it was a private matter,” Sarah answered.

Edward chuckled.

Sophia rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Answer it, Sophia,” Edward prompted.

“Okay, Sarah. Put him through.” She motioned to pick up the receiver.

Edward made a signal for her to talk on the speakerphone.

“Hello, Ethan.”

“How are you, darling?”

“Darling, huh?” Edward mocked in a whisper.

Sophia made a funny face at him.

“I’m very well. Thank you, Ethan. And you?”

“I’m fine. I’m calling to collect my lunch. Are you free today?”

“Ah…let me check my schedule.”

“Accept, Sophia. You have nothing better to do at lunch,” Edward murmured.

Sophia shook her head.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Sophia,” Ethan said huskily.

Edward’s eyes twinkled and he whispered, “Come on, Sophia. Accept or I’ll go in your place. He seems quite interesting.”

“Ah, I—yes, I’m free, Ethan.”

“Great. Where do you want to go?”

“Le Gavroche,” Edward suggested immediately.

“Are you crazy?” Sophia retorted. Too public.

“Pardon?” Ethan aske over the speaker.

“Ah, sorry. I was—I saw something in my e-mail,” she stuttered, and scowled at Edward. “Anywhere you choose is fine with me.”

“Oh, no, darling. I would like you to suggest it.” He lowered his voice to a seductive tone. “I want to know your taste.”

Edward put his hand on his mouth to muffle his laugh. “He’s hot. Go for it, Sophia. I guarantee he’ll like your taste.”

“Ah…so, what about Le Gavroche?”

“My mouth is already watering,” he answered, the sensual intonation stronger. “What time?”

Already, Edward seemed to love this crude man as he grinned hugely at her.

“Is one o’clock okay for you?”

“Sure,” he sounded satisfied. “I’ll make reservations and pick you up at a quarter to one.”

“There is no need—”

“I insist. Until then.”

“Edward Davidoff, you’re sooooo dead!” Sophia said after she hung up.

He laughed. “Sophia, if you don’t want to go…”

“Oh, you wicked man. Let’s finish with this contract before I forget you’re the best CEO in England and kill you.”

Sophia walked through the hallway with a curious Edward in tow.

“What’s his car?”

“I have no idea.”

“I bet it’s a sports car.”

“Probably a Mercedes. No, not a Mercedes. A Rolls-Royce with a driver.”

“He may have a Rolls with a driver, but on your first date he’ll drive to impress, love.” He smiled cunningly at her. “I have to give you some lessons in male behavior, Sophia. You’re too naïve.”

“Our first date?” she sputtered. I’m not ready for dates yet. “I’m only having lunch with him and Leonard Allenthorp, the lawyer.”

“Are you sure he invited his friend?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Do you want to bet?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. You know I don’t gamble.”

“I won.” Edward elbowed Sophia when a dark-blue Porsche Carrera stopped in front of the building and Ethan stepped out of the car. Edward turned her toward himself to look into her eyes. “Are you crazy? How could you have second thoughts about wanting to go out with that man? He’s better looking than in the online images and newspaper photos.” Then he turned her to face the handsome man waiting outside the car. “Take a good look, my dear. Now, go. Enjoy your lunch. I’ll take care of Leibowitz Oil for you.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, but before she could walk away, he stretched out his hand to grab hers. “Wait! Give me your rings.”

She recoiled. “I’m going to be late.”

“Uh-uh! The rings, please.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Besides, he’s early. Don’t be too eager.”

Sophia rolled her eyes at him. “Edward, I’m not too eager. I don’t see the point in making Ethan wait if I’m already here.”

“The rings, please,” he insisted. “Anyway, he already knows you’re a widow. I’ll return them to you after lunch.”

Sophia took off her engagement ring and wedding band placing them in his palm.

She gazed longingly at them and whispered, “I feel naked without them.”

“You’re not! You look astonishing in that dress.” He pushed her toward the door. “Enjoy your date, love.”

“It’s not a date.”

“If you say so…” He smirked and pushed her again.

Ethan sucked in his breath when Sophia appeared on the sidewalk exactly on time. An open gray overcoat with white fur cuffs and collar exposed an elegant knee-length tweed, white-and-orange dress with a black belt that hugged Sophia’s small waist. “Sophia, you look wonderful.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

He opened the door and held out his hand to help her inside the car. “Allenthorp couldn’t come. He asked me to convey his apologies and he said that he’ll call you to collect his lunch.”

“That was not our agreement,” Sophia muttered, entering the car.

“He needs to be in court. His loss. But I’m sure he’s going to call you.” Ethan shrugged and closed the door. “Have you eaten at Le Gavroche recently?” he asked, starting the car.

“No. But I have fond memories of a lunch I had there. Such spectacular food.”

“Michel is a spectacular chef. I already informed him I’m having lunch with a special guest.” He smiled at her. “I’m happy you have accepted my invitation, Sophia.”

He’s so sure of himself. She smiled back, without uttering a word.

He turned on the radio, but before putting a CD in, he probed, “Do you like opera?”

“Sure. What is this one?”

“A selection of Maria Callas.” He slid the CD in. “I just love her voice; so much emotion. She takes the role, transgresses and transforms it. She makes you feel all the drama, the love and ecstasy, the fear and the death.”

The intense enthusiasm expressed in his voice and face seemed to baffle Sophia. “You really like her.”

“I admire those who have no fear of demonstrating passion, to live life to the fullest.” He quickly surveyed her, his blue eyes electrifying. “I think you can.” And I’ll ignite your fire.

She grinned mysteriously at him, turning toward him sideways on the seat, her dress rising to the middle of her thighs. “What makes you say that, Ethan?” she asked in a deceivingly naïve voice.

His breath hitched at the sight of those creamy thighs peeking out of her dress. “Your eyes sparkle with passion when you talk about your pro bono work.” He clutched her hand gently, and looking right into her eyes, kissed it. “It is up to the man who holds your heart to ignite that fire inside you.”

Sophia’s eyes rounded at him.

Smiling, he gave her hand a squeeze. Yes, I am serious about this, little Sophia.

Their arrival at the restaurant saved her from having to respond.

“Here we are.” He signaled to a doorman, who took a traffic cone from the street. Ethan maneuvered the car with an ease that belied the difficulty of fitting it into such a small parking place.

“You’re lucky,” she said, stifling the mocking hue in her voice. “A parking place just in front of the restaurant.”

“We make our own luck, Sweetness” he retorted enigmatically.

“Not always,” she countered. “Trust me, I know.”

He exited the car and rounded it to help her out, offering his hand again.

“I’m not crippled or old.” She laughed, accepting his hand to leave the car.

“High-heels.” He pointed at her knee-high black boots and arched an eyebrow at her, closing the door. He waited for her to take his arm. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No offense taken. I’m well-versed in getting in and out of all types of cars. Never had a problem with my heels.”

“I love women in high-heels, Ms. Santo.” He flashed a smile at her.

“Mrs. Santo,” she corrected him.

“Sophia. Calling you Mrs. Santo makes me feel like I’m going out with a married woman.”

“I see.” She gave him a small smile.

Ethan tipped the doorman who’d collected the cone.

The man made his own luck. Sophia’s smile died when she remembered her late husband doing the same thing.

Ethan watched her. “Everything okay?”

“Sure.” Lies; more lies; always lies.

The restaurant was full. The staff treated Ethan in a deferential way. On the way to their reserved table, he possessively put a hand on her shoulder and greeted some acquaintances with a nod, but didn’t stop, concentrating fully on her.

Forty minutes flew by as they chatted and enjoyed an entrée of hot foie gras and duck crispy pancake perfect foiled on a Sauternes Chateau D’Yquem.

“Monsieur Ashford, mademoiselle. C’est un plaisir!”

“Michel! How are you?” Ethan greeted the owner of the restaurant in perfect French. “This is a dear friend of mine, Ms. Sophia Santo.”

“Monsieur, the food is magnificent,” Sophia complimented the chef, also in French.

“Merci, Mademoiselle Santo. I’m happy you enjoyed it.” He turned to Ethan. “Mr. Ashford, I prepared a special dessert for you. Chocolate, of course, but spicy. Let me know if you like it or desire something else.” He made a small bow and continued his wanderings through the restaurant.

Sophia felt certain Ethan had asked for the service to come very slowly but she didn’t care. He was intelligent, witty, extremely well-read, and they shared many mutual interests.

“Mademoiselle, the chef presents your grilled scallops with carrots, and for monsieur, the roast milk-fed lamb with flageolets beans and thyme-scented jus.” The waiter put their plates in front of them and with a flourish and opened the silver coverlets. The sommelier tasted the wine, approved it, and served a little for Ethan’s assent.

“Do you like the wine?”

“Excellent.” Sophia reveled in the way Ethan clearly prepared everything for her. She gave him a teasing scowl. “I think you’re trying to get me drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” He pierced her with his sparkling blue eyes. “You have it the wrong way around. I’m the one who is drunk, Sophia. You’re so beautiful, so intelligent, so perfect that it makes a man forget what he’s doing.”

You haven’t seen my scars. “Beautiful?” she sniggered. “I’m not beautiful. Much less, perfect.” Not perfect at all.

“Yes, you are. More than beautiful and perfect. You’re…” He scooted to her side of the booth and lifted his hand to touch her raven strands. “Your hair is shiny and lustrous.” His knuckles caressed her cheek, “Your face is like a cameo.” He opened his hand when it reached her neck and then it descended to her shoulder. “Your body… You leave me speechless, and this is not a common thing.”

“Compliments, compliments!” She waved her hand in the air, uncomfortable, trying to recapture the light conversation they’d been having. “When men desire something, they scatter compliments in the wind.” That sounded terrible, Sophia. Why are you so nervous?

“And what do I desire, Sophia?” He lowered his tone, his voice husky, and leaned into her. The movement showed his strength that had been hidden within his suit, making his muscles visible.

Sophia’s mouth went dry as she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue and bit her bottom lip.

“Don’t, Sophia.” His thumb caressed her bottom lip.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t do this.” He was serious, his voice hoarse. His knee touched her thigh and she almost jumped. “You drive me crazy with desire.”

His voice and hand hypnotized Sophia. “Ethan…”

“I want to take you out to dinner, Sophia. Are you free on Thursday?”

“No,” She shook her head. “I’m traveling on business tomorrow.” My little, loved baby daughter needs her mother for a few days.

“When do you return?”

The waiter arrived.

She waited for him to serve the dessert before answering, “On Sunday afternoon.”

“Sunday evening, then.” His azure eyes were so brilliant they surpassed the color of the Mediterranean Sea.

Sophia found herself answering before she could think, “Sunday, then.”