Annie O'Neil

One Night, Twin Consequences


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Matteo was flying back to Argentina before she began her next shift. What could go wrong in just a few hours? Or...what could go right?

      She pressed her nails into her palm as if it would give her more courage.

      Claudia would say yes. She would’ve already been out the door.

      “Why not?” Harriet grabbed her discarded pashmina from the back of her chair and twirled it round her shoulders à la Claudia. If her sister was brave enough to have twins on her own then she could surely manage having dinner with a man she’d never see again. It wasn’t like she’d make a complete idiot out of herself. She’d already cracked that nut at the lecture hall.

      She looked at her hand in his, felt a shiver of anticipation run up her arm then made herself give him a smile. In for a penny...

      * * *

      “Well, thanks for showing me what I won’t be having.”

      Harriet tried to tack a fun, spirited laugh onto the end of her last bite of Argentinian steak but Matteo could see the words were forced.

      “It’s just a glimpse.” He pointed his knife at the nearly empty plate. “This is passable. Not as good as at home but passable.” Matteo took a final bite of his steak, speckled with the piquant chimichurri sauce. “But the asado?” He made a mmm...yummy sound and licked his lips. “The asado is to die for. You can come here and have asado. I give you permission to think it is just like home.” He smiled, then clarified. “My home.”

      Harriet stared at him, her forehead crinkling in a growing picture of dismay.

      “I can’t believe I was so awful tonight!” She groaned, pushing her plate away and letting her head collapse into her hands. When she peeked through her fingers at Matteo she looked so adorable he had to resist reaching across and ruffling his fingers through her hair. And not in an aren’t-you-a-cute-kid kind of way. She’d lost her nervy edge over the hours, replaced by excitement at their shared passion for the work they did. He could’ve talked to her all night long. He hadn’t met someone who had kindled that sort of response in him in... Dios, was it ever? He felt something grow within him he hadn’t felt in a while.

      Regret.

      Regret that he wouldn’t have more time with her. There were so many dimensions to Harriet Monticello he had yet to discover and yet part of him felt he knew her already. A kindred spirit. He would’ve genuinely enjoyed taking his time getting to know her.

      He leaned back in the booth seat and drummed his fingertips along the table’s edge. “Maybe it’s not all terrible. Look on the bright side. At least you got your message through to the person who counts most.”

      She raised her blue eyes a fraction above her fingers. “Yeah, that’d be about right. And who exactly do you think I impressed?”

      “Me!” He reached across and stole a forkful of leftover chimichurri sauce. “Don’t look at me like that! How often do you think I sit through four-hour dinners with uninteresting people? Particularly when I have a flight in...” he glanced at his watch “...about six hours from now.”

      “Uh...not very often?”

      “Sí, correcto. In fact, I think it’d be a safe bet to say never.” He looked her square in the eye. “Life’s too short. Too precious to waste time not doing what you believe in.”

      Their eyes met for a moment and he felt a genuine hit of attraction for her. Not just the superficial one he’d enjoyed when they’d first met but a genuine tug of desire hitting him in the solar plexus. He looked away.

      “I believe in what I said,” Harriet answered miserably. “I just couldn’t communicate it effectively.”

      “You’ve been pretty coherent the last few hours.” He pressed his back into the booth seat and shifted his position. Mind over matter.

      “That’s different.” She shook her head as if trying to get the facts straight.

      “Why? Because you think you could show me a thing or two?”

      “Yes.” Her eyes popped wide open. “I mean no! Oh, blimey. Do you see what I mean? If there’s a chance to stick my foot straight in it, I do it.”

      “Stick your foot in what?”

      “It,” Harriet answered. Then giggled. “Language barrier! Oh...let’s see.”

      “Harriet.” Matteo’s voice went down a notch, latching onto droll. The English weren’t the only ones with a dry sense of humor. “I knew what you were talking about, I was just trying to see if you knew why you found addressing a crowd so difficult.”

      “Oh. Right.” Her lips twitched, her eyes solidly on the plate.

      “Cara, you’ve missed my meaning. I think what you have to say is wonderful. I’d be lucky to have you come to Casita Verde, even if...”

      “Even if what? I tanked it in front of the people who were going to let me go?”

      “You would’ve come if they’d said yes?”

      She drew a smiley face in the remains of her sauce before the weary waiter scooped up their plates. He grinned at her and she smiled back, apologizing for keeping him so late. That was who Harriet was. A woman who did countless little kindnesses, expecting nothing in return.

      “I would like to think I would have. If I would’ve been of any use,” she added quickly, popping her finger into her mouth where he could just see her tongue circling away, retrieving the remains of the sauce.

      He shifted in his seat again and cleared his throat. Staying...neutral was becoming more difficult.

      “I’m fairly certain you would have been nothing but an asset.” And he meant it.

      “Well, that’s just grand, then, isn’t it?” She gave him a sad smile before trying to scrub away the frustration. “Too bad the board is no doubt busily shredding my name into oblivion and looking for another suitable candidate.” Harriet dropped her hands from her face and began to twist her serviette this way and that. “Hey! Maybe we could form a mutual admiration society across the seas!” She shimmied her serviette across the table to him, having folded it into the shape of a little swan, and grinned.

      “It’s a shame.” Matteo picked up the bird and admired her handiwork. He was actually going to miss her, this woman he hardly knew. “I would’ve liked to work with you.”

      “Me, too.” She raised her gaze from the table and met his eyes. “But I guess some people just aren’t meant to stray from their path.”

      “What do you mean by that?”

      “Oh, nothing really. It’s just...” she reached across the table and took back the swan, untwisting it as she spoke “...sticking to what I know has always been a good idea.”

      She smiled up at him, something clouding the azure clarity of her eyes. Disappointment? Sorrow?

      “And what would happen, exactly, if you did something new?” He bridled on her behalf. “Are you going to sit there and just let them decide your future for you?” As the words came out, he was surprised to hear the heat behind them. He actually wanted her to come to Casita Verde. See what he’d done. Offer a new perspective. Just a few hours with Harriet wasn’t near enough. He wanted more.

      “That’s more my sister’s terrain!” Harriet tried to laugh away his suggestion. “She’s the real star in the family,” she finished quietly. It sounded practiced. Something she was far too used to saying.

      “And is that something you tell yourself or something someone else is telling you? If they are, they need their eyes and minds tested,” Matteo protested.

      “I’m not sure I follow.”

      “Well, let’s see.” He held up a finger for each point. “You’re beautiful. Intelligent. You’ve turned the lives of countless