“They’re calling you on stage.”
Rome snapped back to the present when he felt Iyana’s hand on his arm. He nodded and rose then headed for the stage. This was the part he could do without. Somehow he never got used to being in the spotlight. As owner and CEO of Belitalia it was part of what he had to do, part of who he was. Nobody cared that he’d much rather sit in the shadows and let his second-in-command take the stage. No, the audience was waiting and he was the one they wanted to see.
As Rome climbed the steps by the runway the crowd erupted in applause. Damn, it was like he was a celebrity. Not that he felt like one.
As he walked to the middle of the stage he raised his hand, silencing the whoops and cheers. “Thank you, everyone,” he said, his voice booming around the hall as the stage director pinned a microphone to his lapel. “You are the ones who have made the launch of the Belitalia men’s collection a resounding success. I had nothing to do with it.” The fans, reporters and well wishers burst into laughter. “I’m dead serious about that,” he said, “and that’s why I’ve arranged for every one of you to receive a signature silk tie, compliments of Belitalia. Don’t worry. It’s nothing gaudy. Perfect for that power meeting when you want to dress to impress.”
He had to raise his hands again when the audience broke out in appreciative applause. “And ladies,” he said with a smile, “you’ll get your ties, too. Just don’t tell me what you plan to do with them.” That got him more laughter and more than a few whoops and catcalls. Some of the women in the audience even called out his name, making him laugh. They'd have some explaining to do when they got home.
“Now I wish you all a good night and safe travel home,” he said, “and when you think of men’s formal wear in Australia, think Belitalia.”
He’d thought that would be the end of it. He would exit the stage and make his way back to his hotel suite where he would sleep off the jetlag he’d been fighting all day. Unfortunately for him, he had no such luck. It was another hour before he was able to extricate himself from reporters and the clinging hands of ladies who seemed to have decided he wasn’t going to leave the place that night.
Finally Iyana – who’d been waiting with the patience of Job although he’d told her she could leave – stepped forward and hooked her arm in his. “That’s it, folks,” she said, putting on her ‘woman-in-charge’ face. “Rome is exhausted and if you don’t want to see him pass out in front of you, I suggest you let him go.” It was only then that the tightly packed crowd circling him began to thin and then a path cleared and they were able to slip away.
In the limo Rome and Iyana had a good laugh. “I should hire you as my bodyguard,” he said with a grin.
She smiled back. “Any time.”
As soon as they got back to the Park Hyatt Sydney, he said his goodnight and headed for the penthouse suite. All he wanted to do just then was crash for the night. Of course, not before he called Arie. There was nothing that made him sleep better than to hear her voice just before his head touched the pillow.
After a warm bath in the circular tub, wearing nothing but his boxers, Rome sank with a sigh into the plush comfort of the king-sized bed. He relaxed for a minute in the softness of the bedclothes but he was soon reaching for the phone, intent on talking to his ladylove. At forty-five minutes after midnight it would only be five forty-five in New Orleans. Perfect timing. Arie should be home and able to talk.
He was reaching for the hotel phone when he noticed the blinking light. How could he have missed that? He had a message. He picked up the receiver and dialed into the voicemail box. Arie. Rome sat up straight. She'd called an hour before and she wanted him to call her right back.
For some reason a sense of dread, like a gray shroud, wrapped itself around him. Maybe it was the restlessness in her voice, maybe it was her tone. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was seriously wrong. His heart tightening in his chest, he began to dial the number.
“Hello? Rome?” Arie picked up on the second ring like she’d been waiting by the phone. She sounded all right and he almost sagged into the pillows in relief. But not yet. There was that unfamiliar tone in her voice, almost like she was unsure of herself. Or maybe of him. He didn’t know which.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said, wanting to get straight to the point. “Are you all right? Is everything okay over there?”
“Everything’s…fine,” she said and there was that hesitation again, almost like she didn’t know what to say next.
“No, everything’s not fine, Arie. What’s going on?” His voice was brusque, the tension building inside him, putting him on edge. Why the heck didn’t she come out and tell him what was wrong?
For a moment there was only silence then she sighed, and it was a deep, dismal sound, so dismal it was scary.
“Rome,” she said, her voice low and almost hoarse, “I don’t know how to tell you this but…the wedding is off.”
CHAPTER TWO
Rome’s heart leaped into his throat. Had he heard right? “What…did you say?” The words almost couldn’t come out, his throat was so tight.
“I’m...sorry,” Arie said, sounding like she, too, was struggling with the words. “I said the wedding’s off.”
That hit him hard. “What do you mean, the wedding’s off? What are you talking about?” His voice was louder now, the shock of what she was saying almost making him lose it. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry…but…but…I can’t go through with it. I’m sorry, Rome, but I can’t marry you.” And then she was sobbing into the phone, crying softly, the sound so full of pain that he felt like she was ripping his heart out.
“But why?” he asked, not understanding at all. “Why can’t you marry me? What happened?” As he clutched the receiver to his ear his thoughts raced like wild horses through his head. He couldn’t think straight. His world was crashing down around his ears and he didn’t know where to turn. “Arie, please,” he said, sounding desperate and not caring a hoot, “don’t you love me anymore?”
The answer to that was full-fledged bawling on the other end of the line and it was all Rome could do to stay still. His darling was in distress but she was on the other side of the world and he couldn’t reach her. He couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t hold her in his arms. “Arie, please answer me,” he begged. “As long as you still love me, whatever it is, we’ll work it out. Please. Just tell me what’s wrong.”