I lift my eyes at him. The question triggers a burst of panic in me and I know he notices. As always, I get the impression that he can see straight through me.
"You're too smart to work in a beauty store for the rest of your life," he presses.
I look back down at my restless hands, fiddling about in my lap and my voice comes out husky and small when I answer. "I don't know."
He inhales deeply and it's like he sucked all the warmth out of the air around us. Jeremy is not an easy man to read but I'm learning.
I know he hates it when he doesn't get what he wants, and I know he wants answers. He wants to know because knowing gives him control. Hiding his own feelings and secrets gives him the upper hand. My answer disappoints him and for some reason, that makes me unhappy.
"I've always wanted to study European Literature," I mumble eventually. The words feel strange as they linger in the air like an echo. Like mentioning a friend after a very, very long time. "My mum used to read the classics to me when I was little. I used to love it. It was what I looked forward to most. Life always seemed so much more exciting in books. I used to dream of having a big library, like the one the Beast gives Belle in The Beauty and the Beast. As I grew up, I thought I'd settle for a small bookstore. I know it's not near as ambitious as your hotel empire, but I just want to be surrounded by books all the time."
His face remains expressionless as he looks straight at me, but he can't quite hide the surprise in his eyes. I feel my cheeks go red.
"I know, it's stupid," I murmur, eyes falling to my lap again.
"Why is it stupid?" he asks in his usual business-like tone.
I look up, half-expecting him to be mocking me. But he's not so I smile shyly at him, knowing he's just being nice.
"What are you going to do about it?" he presses.
"There's not much I can do. I never finished secondary school."
"So? Have you checked with the University? You might need to sit for some tests first but we can look into that. You don't have to go straight to a degree-"
"No, I-"
"What do you mean 'no'? You definitely have the skillset for it. You're always ready to criticise and argue your point till it bleeds. Why not argue Tolstoy's?" I shoot him a warning look but he remains unfazed. "Ally, you're a smart girl. Going to University can open a lot of doors for you. You don't want to be selling makeup for the rest of your life."
I shake my head again. "It's fine. I'm happy."
But even as I say it I can tell he's calling my bluff. He draws another frustrated breath.
"I'm not saying it will never happen, it's just... I can't do it now, that's all. It wasn't easy to settle down after... after I came here. Millie and I have only just found our feet. I can't uproot everything again."
He looks at me, still unconvinced. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I don't have to tell him anything, but for some reason, I tell him everything, just like always.
"My mum was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was thirty-seven. She died two years later. I was sixteen. I couldn't go through with my GCEs." His expression softens slightly as he absorbs this new piece of information. "Everything went downhill after that. She was the only person I had. I didn't really have friends. Dad was always busy with work. And it only got worse when she got sick because he avoided coming home as much as possible. He didn't..."
My voice trails off as I remember the endless nights, crouched on my bedroom floor, listening to my parents argue in the early hours of the morning because he was drunk and angry. "He didn't take it very well. They were really close. My mum was only twenty-one when she met him. He was already a successful lawyer back then. He came to Malta for a conference or something and swept her off her feet. They eloped, moved to London and had me less than a year later."
The words flow out of my mouth naturally, easily. I can't seem to stop them. It's like the invisible dam that was holding them back finally caved. I've never really talked about this with anyone, not even with Sosa.
"I had a great childhood. We had a big house in a nice area and things were good. I always thought we were happy, until one day we weren't. And then she died. I was lost and Dad didn't know what to do with me. So, he brought me here."
I swallow, knowing I should really stop talking. But I go on.
"It was supposed to be until he sorted things out. My dad dug himself into a lot of debt. He had a gambling problem and said that he was still paying my mother's medical bills, so he was working long hours. He didn't have time for me. Not that I took much of his time... Millie had to work two jobs so that she could take care of me and send money off to him. She wanted to help with the hospital bills. I felt terrible. I had been a burden on my father. I didn't want to be a burden on her too. So, instead of continuing school as I had planned, I took the job at Lipstick&Co."
My hands are shaking in my lap so I press my palms between my knees to make them stop. "As time went by, we were hearing less and less from him, so Nanna Millie called the oncology centre to check about the pending instalments. It was a nightmare. The hospital didn't have her details listed as my mother's next of kin, so she had to go through a whole process and provide them with a ton of documents just so they would let her talk with the finance department. When she finally got through, they told her there were never any pending statements in my mother's name. The paediatric hospital where she used to work as a nurse had settled her bill directly through their employee well-being fund. My father had been taking our money for over a year."
I pause again, remembering Nanna's pale face as the receiver slipped through her fingers and crashed on the floor. "I was mortified. I knew there and then that he had no intention of ever coming back for me. I felt abandoned and helpless, but mostly I felt horrible for Millie. She wasn't in my life at all when we were in England. My parents liked to keep to themselves. I met her for the first time in the hospital when my mum was sick. And then again at the funeral. But she took me in without question and that was how my father repaid her.
"So," I go on trying to hold myself together, "I told Millie to drop her night job and reduce her shifts at the hospital and promised her we would get by just fine with what we earned between us since we didn't have to send money to the U.K. anymore. And that's what we did. We put the whole thing behind us and started over. And now we're good. But I can't just quit work and start studying. Millie comes first. I have to repay that debt."
Raising my eyes to Jeremy's again, I see a mixture of shock and horror on his face. But no pity. Thank God, there's not a hint of pity in those blue eyes and I feel a gratifying pull towards him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I..." My gaze drifts onto the chilled bottle of wine. I reach over for it and pour some into my glass. Jeremy regards me carefully and then raises his own glass before taking a good swig.
#
He pulls up in front of the alley steps leading to Millie's house. It's late in the afternoon and the streets are quiet. The neighbours are either out with their families, enjoying their afternoon siesta or hiding behind their blinds trying to guess who the mysterious man with the flashy red car is and why young Ally is in the flashy red car with him for the second weekend in a row.
He switches off the ignition and turns in his seat to face me. His face is blank and hard as usual, but his eyes and mouth are softer, not quite friendly, but not menacing either.
"I'm sorry," he says after a short while.
"What for?" I ask apprehensively. For some reason, I don't think Mr Jeremy James Cordina a.k.a. The Boss says those words very often.
"For pushing you to talk about your past like that. I had no idea you've been through so much. You're so young..."
I look at him. He seems genuinely lost for words and I don't know what to make of it. "You didn't push me," I say truthfully. "I just don't want you to think that I'm-"
"Chickening out? Completely giving up on your dream? Running away from what you want?" he interrupts in his usual arrogant tone.
Wow! Okay, I guess he's still an ass-
"I still think that," he says, his heart-stopping smile sneaking up on me, knocking the wind clean out of my lungs. Then he's serious again. "But I get it. And for what it's worth, I think you're very brave, Sparky."
I stare back at him, my brain tired and completely stunned. I'm somewhere between being a little tipsy and a little hungover and it's making me feel disoriented. Maybe, the wine wasn't such a bright idea after all. Especially that second bottle.
I want to tell him that it's worth a lot but I only manage a sloppy smile. His eyes go momentarily to my lips again and instinctively, mine go to his. He runs his tongue over his lower lip before taking it between his teeth, just like he did last week. My heart starts misbehaving again, making me feel like a silly schoolgirl with a crush. Even though I don't have one. I don't.
"Same time, same place, next week?" he says after a short while.
I focus back on his eyes. What is he saying? Is this becoming a regular thing? Is it okay if it is? Does this make us friends?
"What?" he asks interrupting my raving thoughts. "Do you need to pass it by your three-week boyfriend first?"
He chases his words with a charming wink and once again I'm reminded of the night of the party. I'm not sure how this makes me feel, but it's not good.
I shake the hundred-and-one questions out of my head and quickly give him my answer. "He's not my boyfriend. I'm off on Saturday."
He rewards me with his heart-stopping smile again. Wow! I got two in less than five minutes! That must be some kind of record. I smile back, trying to ignore the fact that my heart has missed the last three beats or so.
"Hey, can we go somewhere else this time?" I ask, getting out of the car and leaning in through the window. "I'm not sure I like Olivia."
His face contorts into a boyish, perplexed expression. "Who is Olivia?"
"Our waitress. I find her a little judgmental, don't you? And she's always flirting with you in front of my face."
Jeremy grins wickedly. "I'm not your boyfriend either, Sparky."
"Yes. But she doesn't know that."
#
I open the door and a pleasant whiff of fabric conditioner welcomes me. I see Nanna Millie folding the freshly laundered clothes in the living room as she hums to the rock and roll tunes coming from the kitchen. She beams at me as I walk in.
"Hey, you! I thought you were at work," I greet her, putting my bag down on the couch and walking over to help her.
"It was a quiet shift so I took the afternoon off. How was your date?" she adds in a sing-song tone.
"It wasn't a date, Nann. We just met for lunch," I answer sharply ignoring the giddiness in my chest. "Look, I know you like him but he's my boss. There is absolutely nothing going on between us and it would be very inappropriate if there was."
She raises a surprised brow at me. "I was asking about last night."
I feel my face go red.
"So, I take it you were with Mr Cordina just now?" she says with a hint of tease in her voice.
"Yes," I murmur, tail between my legs, waiting for the barrage of questions. But thankfully, she just smiles knowingly to herself.
"The date was alright," I volunteer after a stretch of awkward silence.
"Good," she says trying to sound impartial. "Are you going to call him?"
"No! Sosa said nothing about calling. My promise was to maintain contact for three weeks. She said nothing about initiating it."
Nanna pauses with my red shirt half-folded in her hands, an incredulous look on her face. "But you just said you had fun."
"I didn't say that," I protest, taking the shirt from her and folding it myself. "I said it was alright."
"Well, that's high praise coming from you!" she argues snatching a pair of trousers and folding it aggressively.
"He is good-looking," I admit. "You would definitely approve," I jab her gently in the ribs with my elbow.
My phone starts vibrating in my back pocket. The display shows an unknown number. I sigh resignedly looking at the screen. "I guess this is him."
"Well, there you go," Millie comments. "Now, you have to answer it. You promised."
And with that, she grabs the basin full of folded clothes and marches upstairs with her nose in the air.