The Best Of The Year - Modern Romance. Annie West
your less than loving treatment of me all these years was supposed to teach me a lesson?’
Taut silence greeted her daring question, followed by a haughty, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear.’
Another jagged arrow of pain lanced through her. ‘Did you ever stop to think I might need a shoulder to cry on before I took my next lesson?’
Her mother laughed. ‘Even if I wanted to offer a shoulder you’d never take it.’
Ana froze. ‘How would you know, since you’ve never offered it?’
Again a small pause, before Lily sighed. ‘I may be blind to some things but not to everything, dear. But, be that as it may, I called to offer my advice. If you’re thinking of starting anything with Bastien Heidecker I suggest you think twice.’
It took a few seconds to arrange her reeling thoughts. ‘Thank you, but the advice isn’t necessary.’
‘That picture in the paper suggests otherwise.’
Ana exhaled sharply at the reminder that her momentary loss of composure was now streaming across the world. ‘I’m not thinking of starting anything with anyone.’
‘That’s good. Take it from one who knows: the Heidecker men are ruthless liars. They’ll string you along until they get what they want from you, then leave you high and dry.’ Unmistakeble bitterness coated her words.
‘So you take no responsibility for what happened sixteen years ago?’
Ana had expected a swift denial, and was shocked when her mother made a quickly veiled sound of distress. ‘Believe it or not, I do.’
Ana halted in surprise. ‘You do?’
‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing—so, yes, I wish things had turned out differently. Anyway, the thing to do is look forward.’
Ana closed her eyes. ‘Well, I can’t just yet. The past is ruining my life.’ She tried for a light-hearted tone despite the vice squeezing her heart.
‘Then don’t do as I did. Take the lesson you need from it but don’t hang on to it.’
This unexpected morsel of advice made Ana’s breath catch. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Of course I am. Or I will be as soon as I find another gig. I’ve left the show,’ she added, her attempt at flippancy not quite hitting the mark.
‘Why? What happened?’
‘The director was a bore. His artistic vision was totally wrong.’
‘The truth, Lily. What really happened?’
Her mother sucked in a shaky breath. ‘He told me he loved me... Of course it turned out to be lies. All lies.’
Against her will, a lump formed in Ana’s throat. ‘I see.’
‘You see? That’s all you have to say?’
‘I can’t pretend to be surprised.’
Her mother gave a shocked gasp. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking...calling you for support—’
‘Lily, listen to me. You’re worth so much more than what you let happen to you. Why don’t you take your own advice—?’
‘It’s that man, isn’t it? Turning you against me!’
‘Bastien has nothing to do with this.’ But his voice echoed at the back of her mind all the same...
‘Well, don’t call me when Bastien kicks you to the kerb. Just remember I warned you—all men are bastards.’ The line went dead.
Not all men... Some men could be gentle when they chose...could make you feel safe...
A cool mist touched her face. With a start, she realised she’d reached the water jet.
Turning around, she headed back to the hotel, the joy of her walk gone. Had she silently condoned her mother’s behaviour all this time? Enabled her, even, by continuing to support her just to keep the lines of communication open...the secret hope of a connection?
Her phone rang again. She stared at the number and breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Papá!’ She summoned a smile, her world brightening a little.
‘I heard something on the news about you. I’m worried,’ he said after they’d exchanged pleasantries.
She bit her lip and quickly summarised what had happened to her, knowing that her father didn’t keep up with current affairs on his dig in Colombia but not wanting to risk him finding out anyway.
‘How did this happen, Ana?’ he asked in the softly modulated voice that could turn steely when needed.
‘I don’t know, but I didn’t do it.’
‘Sí, I know that,’ he said impatiently. ‘But you need to find out who wishes you such harm and deal with it.’
His unequivocal belief in her innocence brought a lump to her throat. Taking a few seconds, she cleared it. ‘I intend to. Um...about the internship...’
‘Make things right in your world. I will make things right here.’
The lump threatened to choke her again. ‘Thank you, Papá.’
She returned to her room, still caught in a cross-current of emotion but forcing herself to shrug it off and deal with her predicament. She might be stuck in Switzerland for the time being, but she wasn’t helpless.
Two hours later she threw her phone down in frustration and hugged her knees. The few trusted friends she’d made in the business couldn’t shed any light on what had happened.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d gone all day without a meal. She reached for the phone again just as a knock sounded on her door.
Glancing down at herself, she debated whether to change. The thought of donning her suit again made her grimace. Bastien had already seen her like this. And she was wearing a bra this time.
With a deep breath that failed to replenish her oxygen-deprived lungs, she pulled the door open.
He stood tall and imposing, his face impassive as he surveyed her. She’d expected another disparaging comment about her state of dress, but his gaze merely skimmed over her loose hair and unmade-up face.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Dinner is being delivered to my suite in ten minutes. Will you join me?’
‘I was just about to order Room Service.’ She didn’t want to risk going head to head with him again; their last exchange was still very vivid in her mind.
A smile flashed on and off. ‘I’ve saved you the trouble, then. We have things to discuss. I’ll see you in five minutes.’ Without waiting for a reply, he sauntered off.
Knowing it was pointless to argue, she returned to her bedroom, applied a coat of lip-gloss, slipped on high-heeled sandals and brushed her hair. Tucking her key card into her pocket, she left her suite.
His was the only other suite on this floor, and when she pushed the open door wider he motioned for her to enter.
Decorated in identical tones of gold and blue, his suite was much grander than hers. Gilt-edged mirrors adorned the walls and an impressive fireplace rested beneath an ornate mantelpiece. Gold velvet curtains had been caught back with blue velvet rope, and beyond the window the lights on the lake twinkled in the falling dusk. But what caught her eye, as it had earlier in the day, was the plume of water, now backlit with a stunning array of lights.
‘What is that fountain?’
‘The Jet d’Eau. The highest water fountain