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Authors: Ellen Wolf

BOOK: Shadow of Love
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Even now, seventeen years later, she only had to close her eyes to bring back the memory of that evening—the low noise of chattering voices and the fragrance of cigarette smoke and food that filled her nostrils as she stood, her cold hands clenched into fists, her father assuring her that everything would be fine. His shaky voice and pale face had made her want to scream hysterically that he was lying and that nothing could be fine ever again. Her wonderful mother was dead, and nothing he would say could bring her back.

She hadn’t done it, of course, nodding instead and gently taking away the glass he kept on polishing, the repetitive motion almost hypnotic. She had said all the right things, pretending to be fine and walking to the kitchen with her head held high. After being met with awkward silence, she found herself drowning in the firm embrace of their main cook, the woman’s ample bosom and round arms hugging her fiercely.

Emily had managed to remain calm. She didn’t want anyone to see her break down, knowing even at that early age that once the door to her grief opened, she would be unable to shut it again. Grief would have to wait until she was alone in her room, safe in the four walls that had seen her past misery over losing her favorite pet and being bullied at the local school. Only then would she allow herself to break down in tears, her sobs muffled by the pillow she was clutching. Her father was the only person left in her family, and she didn’t want to cause him any more sadness than he was already experiencing. She had to take care of him and keep him safe, no matter what.

She had done her best in the following two years. She had tried to be the best daughter a father could have, childishly hoping that it would be enough to bring a smile to his prematurely aged, somber features. But in the end, Marlene Marrows, Sophie’s mother, managed the impossible.

Beautiful, cheerful, and persistent, the young widow with a fifteen-year-old daughter waltzed into their reclusive lives, her radiant smile and good looks successfully dispersing the dark clouds that hung over their heads. Emily was happy. Not only did her father seem young again, but also she was gaining a sister, something she had always wanted. Sophie was definitely wonderful, her good looks and maturity making it so much more exciting when Emily’s father shared with her the news about the planned marriage. Emily spent the whole dinner watching her new step-mom–to-be, marveling at her charm and easy-going attitude. Marlene had lost her husband to a battle with prostate cancer many years before, her blue eyes wistful as she recalled the ordeal of the last few months of his life.

Alone, with a daughter who could easily pass for her sister, Marlene seemed absolutely smitten with Emily’s father, a miracle that happened as if in answer to Emily’s prayers. John Beggins was a wonderful man, but both his somber character and lack of social expertise had made it difficult for him to meet women. Emily’s mother had been his friend since they were both children, the ease born of familiarity helping him overcome his shyness to ask for her hand in marriage.

Marlene Marrows was akin of an exotic bird of paradise, with her beautifully styled hair, elegant clothes, and a smile that positively dazzled half of the men in town. Why she picked Emily’s father was beyond everyone’s comprehension, but neither he nor Emily ever bothered to ask.

Emily had taken Sophie for a tour of the house and the gardens, her initial shyness with the older girl evaporating like dew in the sun as they chatted animatedly about anything and everything. Emily was in heaven, imagining the future with Sophie each and every day. Emily didn’t have many friends, her father’s reclusive ways successfully dampening any attempts to bring girls over for a play date or a party. Sophie, with her long blond hair, huge blue eyes, and clever makeup, was everything Emily had ever wanted to be. To be able to see her every day and maybe even learn a trick or two about being a more popular girl would be fantastic.

True, with her dark unruly hair and a dusting of freckles, Emily would never be in the same league, but maybe something would rub off just a bit, enough to make her feel better about herself. Sophie seemed to think that she had potential. She had said it herself, her perfect little nose cringed in a cute grimace as she surveyed the younger girl. Her assessment had been harsh but honest, confirming what Emily had been thinking all along: she was too short and too skinny, and her short, blunt nails and scuffed knees definitely had to go.

Sophie had patiently explained that half of her success lay in preparation, showing Emily her vast array of cosmetics. Emily had stared at the tubes and little jars, embarrassed to admit that she had no idea what most of them were. Sophie was three years older and had already started high school, but Emily had a nagging suspicion that the argument of being younger, and therefore inexperienced, would not help. Sophie Marrows had most certainly known all those things at the tender age of twelve.


Em, wake up, for God’s sake!’ The impatient voice of her sister jarred Emily from her memories. Her eyes traveled to Sophie, who was obviously in a hurry to leave the restaurant. ‘There is nothing left to do, is there? I need to get ready for my date, don’t you remember?’


Sure thing.’ She nodded automatically, biting her lips to keep from asking the obvious question that she knew would remain unanswered:
What about Peter
?

Sophie had been dating Peter for the past three months, claiming that their romance was something akin to a
coup de foudre
. Unstoppable and burning high, they had been in love with a passion that swept away all reason and decency. The fact that he was initially dating Emily, and that she had introduced him to her stepsister, had been lost in the weeks that followed the explosion of their love affair.

Emily had watched them with initial anger and hurt that soon transformed into resigned acceptance, the scenario playing out in front of her not the first part of the movie that was her life, but merely a sequel. She wasn’t deeply in love with him, which had helped immensely. They were on the verge of becoming involved, their mutual attraction the beginning of what might have been. As things happened, however, one look from Sophie’s large blue eyes had been enough to distract him from the girl he had been seeing for two months.

Wasn’t that exactly why she had waited so long before bringing him to meet her stepsister, hoping against all hope that their already somewhat established relationship would prevent him from falling under the spell of Sophie’s blond, blue-eyed charm? Yet it had been enough for Peter and Sophie to spend one evening together at the function to which Emily had invited him to realize that they were made for each other.

Confronted, Sophie had shrugged and explained that their love was inevitable and that she hoped Emily would understand. Peter was more self-conscious, his awkward explanations making her cringe in embarrassment and causing her to hurriedly stop the painful confrontation. Once again, Sophie had taken what she wanted, and Emily could do nothing about it as she became a witness to their romance.

Disappearing wasn’t an option. The successful business she and Sophie ran together bound them for better and for worse, emotional drama included. Still, Emily couldn’t help but ask herself what it would be like if she really had cared for Peter the way he did for Sophie. Would it make any difference to her sister that she was breaking Emily’s heart? She wanted desperately to believe that, somehow or other, Sophie knew Emily didn’t have deep feelings for Peter, and that was the reason for her selfish act. That if Emily were deeply in love, her sister would understand and keep her distance, however implausible that sounded.

Emily pushed aside the ugly memories that threatened to shake her hard-earned peace of mind, once again closing the door to the darkest secrets of her and her sister’s common past, forbidding herself to go there. To dwell upon it had no point, she told herself as she gathered her jacket and peeked out the window.

Rain was pouring, the silhouettes of the poplar trees in the front yard moving in the wind like the eerie shadows of ghosts. In the mudroom next to the kitchen were the raincoat and two umbrellas left there for emergencies exactly like that one.


Not the best night for a date, Sophie.’ She handed her sister a coat and an umbrella. ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’


Doesn’t matter.’ The other woman shrugged, the movement rippling the soft, silvery silk of her blouse. ‘James will send a car for me; he said so himself.’


James who?’ It was time to find out more about the mystery man, Emily decided as she turned off the lights in the back room, her eyes doing one final inspection.


James McMaster.’ Sophie said it slowly, savoring the sound of every letter. ‘I was kind of surprised, though.’

Obviously, she was unable to stop talking about him, and something akin to pity for Peter stirred deep inside Emily’s soul. She might have been angry with him and absolutely over whatever they had in the past, but she felt sorry that he was about to get a taste of the famous ‘Sophie treatment.’


He doesn’t look like a James, you know.’ Sophie kept talking as her long, perfectly manicured fingers did quick work of the buttons of the wellington. ‘More like a Javier or Enrique.’

‘‘
He sounds exactly like the type you’re after, Soph.’ Emily was only too aware of Sophie’s obsession with all things Mediterranean, men included.

Her stepsister shook her blond head, carefully pulling up the hood of the coat. Emily noticed—not for the first time—that no piece of clothing was bad enough to diminish her glamorous looks even a bit. Sophie was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful in whatever she put on, an old, oversized raincoat included. ‘He’s too dark and mysterious to be plain English. Before we spoke, I was certain he would be a foreigner, or at least have an accent.’


But he doesn’t?’ Emily grinned, imagining her sister’s disappointment. ‘I gather that his good looks were enough to make up for this shortcoming. Does he at least speak Italian or Spanish? Then you can close your eyes and imagine him being transported here for your pleasure straight from some god-forsaken olive grove in the south.’


He grew up here, in London,’ Sophie admitted almost reluctantly, ignoring Emily’s jibe. ‘Lives somewhere in Kensington, as far as I know. Has a house there.’


Not too shabby.’ Emily whistled appreciatively, remembering her sister’s weakness for luxury. Maybe that was why Peter didn’t have a chance, she though bitterly, as she remembered her ex boyfriend’s rather modest salary as a beginning doctor.


I’m not after his money. He is just so… magnetic, Em. What were the odds for us to hook up, you know? There were at least three hundred people at the party. I didn’t think he would notice me, with all those women around him.’ Her lovely face darkened at the memory. ‘But he looked at me as if he knew me, I swear. He walked all the way across the room to talk to me. If that isn’t destiny, I don’t know what is.’


Where are you going tonight?’ Emily decided not to pursue that slippery slope, knowing very well that once Sophie decided to follow her instinct, Emily could do little to stop her. It seemed harmless enough, anyway. The fact that Emily herself didn’t believe in love at first sight or destiny or all the talk about halves completing each other through time and space was irrelevant.


To Maxim’s.’ Sophie nodded eagerly, satisfied to see Emily impressed. ‘They require reservations three months ahead of time, but James must have pulled some strings, because he got us a table right away.’


Well, then.’ Emily pushed Sophie gently towards the exit, bracing herself against the fury of the elements that raged outside. A gust of ice-cold wind pulled on her clothes, drops of rain finding their way under the hood and touching her face like ice-cold fingers. ‘Let’s run.’ They ran to the car parked at the back of the parking lot, its dark shape promising shelter and warmth.

The restaurant was just a few minutes from the house where Marlene and Sophie lived. Emily had moved out the same year she had started university, eager to start a new chapter of her life without the burden of memories embedded in the home in which she had grown up. As much as she loved its rambling garden and old-fashioned charm, too much had happened for her to see it through the lenses of childhood innocence and happiness. The years after her father’s passing away and her stepmom’s third marriage had destroyed the delicate web of attraction the home had held for so long.

John Beggins had spent only two years in his marital bliss with Marlene, a sudden heart attack claiming his life just as silently and unobtrusively as everything else in his life. Emily found him dead behind the counter, the polishing cloth still firmly clutched in his hand.

A handsome sum of money left to her from her mother’s family had helped to provide for Emily’s studies and for a down payment on a flat downtown, away from the shadows of the past. She had ignored the halfhearted protests from Marlene and promised to stay in touch as much as possible, especially since her involvement in the life of the restaurant was crucial. She had spent four years studying nutrition, her degree a type of homage paid to generations of the Beggins family involved in the restaurant business.

When she had returned to the restaurant, she was confronted with all the changes Marlene had initiated, the change to a more exotic cuisine being only the beginning. Suffering from depression and a bipolar disorder, her stepmother struggled with reviving the place, her manic episodes resulting in changes that were short-lived and not always beneficial for the business. After suffering a series of financial setbacks, Marlene considered selling the whole business to anyone interested, but the will of her late husband, Emily’s father, prevented her from proceeding. Keeping the restaurant was the condition for receiving a yearly bonus for both herself and Sophie; the injection of cash it provided was far too lucrative to be jeopardized by a sale.

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