then you’re in trouble.’
Sophy snorted. ‘Now who’s the sweetie-pie?’
‘He’d gobble a kitten like you.’ Rosanna frowned. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Anyway, I’m grumpy, we don’t have time for a pedicure now. I’ve had to sit here all day doing nothing.’
Kitten? She thought she was a kitten? ‘Poor you.’ Now Sophy had zero sympathy. ‘It’s about time you stopped and did nothing for half a day.’
Rosanna cupped her hand round her mouth, making a pretend megaphone. ‘Pot calling kettle, come in, kettle.’ She stood. ‘At least I’m busy pushing my career. You’re just busy doing everything for everyone else.’
‘You’re going to miss your next flight. Go have a good trip.’ Rosanna was a buyer for one of the major fashion chains. Knowledgeable, chic, damn good at her job and away more nights than she was at home.
Rosanna picked up the handle of her chic trolley case. ‘I love Wellington.’
‘The boys are going to miss you.’
‘It’ll be good for them.’ Rosanna bent and flicked an invisible speck of fluff from her black trousers.
Sophy watched the studied indifference with a smile. ‘Are you ever going to make a decision?’
Rosanna appeared to think on it for a moment, then smiled shamelessly. ‘I don’t think so, no.’
Rosanna had been dating two men for the last month. They knew about each other. Hell, they all went clubbing together, the boys’ rivalry half jest, half serious. Rosanna, the black widow, liked to have as many in her web as possible to play with. And once they were caught, they were never freed. She had carcasses all over the globe. Emmet and Jay were her latest victims yet somehow she pulled it off with such charm they didn’t seem to mind—in fact they salivated over her.
Sophy knew there was a heart of gold underneath the glam. It was just that Rosanna wouldn’t admit to it, certainly wouldn’t let anyone near it. She spent her life fencing, flirting on a superficial—if somewhat bitchy—plane. Sophy knew why; Rosanna’s heart had been broken and she wasn’t letting any man near it again. She was only about having light, harmless, fun and keeping any seriousness at a distance.
Sophy’s heart had also been broken. Frankly she wanted some of the fun now too—and she knew who with. She walked with Rosanna to the door, waited for the taxi to arrive and tried to absorb some of her friend’s zest for life.
Rosanna did all the things Sophy was too ‘responsible’ to do: she had crazy flings, she went to far flung destinations, she was impulsive and a risk-taker. She did danger—she’d do dangerous like Lorenzo Hall kind of dangerous.
But Sophy had always had more than herself to consider. She loved her parents and had never wanted to embarrass them. As she was the judge’s daughter it would have made the perfect salacious storyline—if she’d gone off the rails, been a teen drinker, teen pregnant, or got into drugs. But she’d done none of those things. She’d tried to be the perfect kid—even when she knew she was a disappointment in not following them into the law. She’d even tried to find the perfect boyfriend. If she couldn’t live up to the family name she’d marry someone who would. She’d been so naïve—her ex had only wanted her for what he could get out of it—the connection to her family. She supposed it served her right.
She was the boring, goody two-shoes who’d been embarrassingly naïve. Now she was in the habit of playing safe. Not playing at all. Not taking risks.
She never discussed her family with anyone at all now. Privacy had been important anyway, discretion a must. People were put off just as much as they were intrigued, as if they thought she’d run to her father if they mentioned anything even slightly shady. It was as if they expected her to be a pillar of morality, never once veering from doing right.
And in truth she was.
‘Is this job full-time?’ Rosanna asked.
‘Initially.’
‘You know your problem, Soph?’
‘Go on, enlighten me.’
‘You’re too sweet. Why don’t you ever say no to them? Why don’t you ever say no to me?’
‘How can I?’ Sophy argued. ‘You let me move in.’ She hadn’t wanted to stay with her parents. But hadn’t wanted to live alone either—at least, not all the time.
Rosanna shrugged. ‘I’m hardly here. It’s a selfish move on my part—you’re a good house-sitter.’
‘Yes.’ Sophy laughed, not in the least offended, knowing Rosanna didn’t mean it.
‘But when are you going to get those pieces finished?’
Sophy bit her lip. She’d known Ro would bring it up eventually. ‘I don’t know that I can.’
‘You’re doing it, Sophy. This is such a great opportunity.’
‘You’ve just told me to learn to say no.’
‘Only to the things you don’t really want. This is something you do want, isn’t it? This is something to push for. Put your ambition first for once.’
‘I will.’ Sophy groaned, but Rosanna was right of course. ‘When are you back?’
‘Later in the week. Another flying visit home and then off again.’
‘You don’t get tired of it?’
‘No.’
And perhaps if they saw each other more they’d drive each other nuts. The taxi finally pulled up and Rosanna strutted down to get it, her ponytail swinging, her ultrahigh heels tapping and her trolley rattling along the concrete path.
‘Don’t say yes to anything else while I’m away,’ she called as she got into the cab. ‘I mean it.’ She stopped and opened the door again to holler, ‘Especially not Lorenzo Hall!’
‘Kittens have claws, you know.’
‘Not enough to make a mark on a man like him.’
Laughing, Sophy shut the front door. Rested against it for a moment, listening to the vast silence Rosanna had left behind her. She’d been right. Lorenzo was out of her league. And probably not genuinely interested anyway—he was just amusing himself by making her squirm.
Rosanna was right about something else too. Sophy needed to finish up her pieces and prepare for the exhibition. It was a fantastic opportunity and she shouldn’t blow it. Inspired, she went into her room and got to work on them—kept working late into the night. Once she got into it the excitement flowed and she decided to make the most of her lunch break—she had no time to waste if she wanted to get enough made.
She got to work early the next day to get ahead. She opened the window in the office to let the fresh spring air in. Looking down, she saw Lorenzo was out the back. Wide brush in hand, he was covering the graffiti with black paint—to match the rest of the fence. So it bothered him enough at last? Sophy thought it was a bit of a shame. But, unable
