Page 22 of Forbidden Fruit
The day with the kids passes agonisingly slowly. Mr Marquesi and I didn’t discuss telling them that I live on the property, so I keep quiet. They do a lot of talking anyway, eager to tell me about their weekend and spending Sunday evening withMammonaandBabbone. Their little eyes shine with a love so pure my heart squeezes. It’s always been just me and my mum, until it was just me. My father was apparently a one-night stand, so I never even looked for him.
I’m pacing the length of the small studio living room when a knock sounds on the door, and I jump. I didn’t think our conversation would happen here. And this late. I feel like a cornered animal who won’t be able to escape. At least, at the main house, I’d have the distance to protect me.
I open the door. Mr Marquesi’s imposing frame takes up the entire space, his khaki wide-legged pants and soft beige linen shirt make him look more casual but I’m not fooled.
I invite him in.
“I apologise, Miss Winfrey. Anton and Livia were,” he hesitates, “excited with the news of having you live on the property. It took a long time to calm them and get them ready for bed.”
His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. He just looks tired. I take in the dark circles under his eyes and the set of his shoulders, high against his ears.
“That’s no problem. Would you like some chamomile tea?”
I had time to do some grocery shopping after I finished work earlier, but money is still tight, so I only bought the essentials, including this awful off-brand tea. But it was the cheapest option.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m not staying,” he says, voice unflinching and resolute, like spending too much time in my company is a stress he’d rather avoid.
My own shoulders deflate, but I paste a fake smile on my face.
“I do not, under any circumstances, want you to spend time outside of your working hours with us.”
His tone is harsh and final.
“Oh, okay. I didn’t know seeing me was such an issue for you.”
“It isn’t.” His answer comes sharp and contradictory.
I’m nauseous again, sweat forming at my temples.
“It’s what is best for the kids. I don’t want to confuse them. You’re their nanny, not their mother,” he says harshly.
That last comment heats my blood with anger.
“Mr Marquesi, with all due respect, you’re being an asshole on purpose right now. I’d never try to take Anton and Livia’s mother's place, and accusing me of it is unfair and unwarranted. I care deeply for them and I will stay out of your hair when I’m not working, but I’m basically your neighbour, so we will cross paths. Or am I supposed to stay inside as long as I live here? Youoffered me a place to stay. I didn't ask for it,” I exclaim. I speak a mile a minute, indignation loosening my tongue until I realise I called him an asshole and my hand lands across my mouth with a loud smack, my eyes turning to saucers.
Instead of rage or shock, Mr Marquesi’s brow is raised in…challenge?That can’t be right. His features have softened, and when he closes the space between us, he prowls towards me like a predator. It does things to my body that I don’t want to name. I take a small step back and hit the kitchen counter. He doesn’t crowd me, but I wish he did.
He keeps a reasonable distance but his smooth voice travels across my skin like smoke when he speaks, barely above a whisper. “Did you call me ‘an asshole’?”
“I… I… Yes. You’re being mean for no reason. I won’t invade your private space. I mean, this place has a lovely patio with fairy lights that are perfect for reading and I can walk around the mansion to go out into town and if I bring someone over, you won’t have to see. I’ll make sure you’ll be none the wiser.” I’m fucking rambling, embarrassing myself and I can’t do anything to stop it.
“Bringing someone over?” he repeats the words slowly, as if tasting them, his eyes molten and his tone almost threatening.
“Well, I only have one friend. Jade. You know her, of course. She might come over for dinner, maybe her boyfriend. I won’t let the kids see them if they do, I promise.”
“No guests except Jade. I want my children to be safe in their own home.”
I scoff. “You can’t do that. It’s my place.”
“Considering you’re not even paying rent yet, Miss Winfrey, I’d say it’smyplace and you’re graciously staying in it.”
“Well, not for long.” I cross my arms on my chest petulantly. Mr Marquesi’s eyes dip briefly to my cleavage. Steadying myself, I point an accusing finger at him. “I’ve never accepted charityin my life, Mr Marquesi and you’re no exception. Thank you for letting me stay here until I find a suitable flat, but let me remind youagainthat you offered. I won’t let you walk all over me because I live and work here. Now, it’s getting late.”
I take the three steps that separates me to the front door and open it, dismissing him without another word.
Mr Marquesi stays silent, unmoving for what feels like a long minute, before he turns and leaves without a second glance. I exhale a sigh of relief as I close the door.
This did not go as planned.