Page 57 of Painted Truths

“Sometimes, honey”—a wry grin appears on her face, encouraging my own lips to twitch in response—“one just isn’t going to cut it. And crying at work warrants two, at the very least.”

Gesticulating for a repeat order to Mike, she rubs my hand between hers in a comforting way. Her warm actions make my heart lighter already. “So, come on, then. Out with it. What happened?”

Nibbling my lower lip between my teeth as I draw my brows together in confusion, I wonder if perhaps I should open up to her, but she astounds me when she leans forward, almost conspiratorially, to ask, “It’s Henry, right?”

I have zero clue how she knows, but before I have time to debate the pros and cons of inviting a third party into the hot mess residing in my brain, my mouth moves almost of my own volition.

“I met Henry over two years ago before his father passed. Before my parents died. We had this… I don’t know what to even call it. This… connection, like an invisible tether that we couldn’t see or touch, but was there as surely as I’m sitting in front of you right now. I didn’t know he was Alex’s brother or future CEO of a multi-national company. Jesus, I was so sheltered I had no idea what a CEO even was.”

“So, you were friends with Alex first?” I nod. “And you met Henry but didn’t know they were brothers?”

Another nod.

“And then?”

“Well,” I murmur, “then he left after telling me his name was Henry, but without exchanging anything more than a broken promise.”

And saliva.

“Over lunch today, I found out why he broke that promise. He told me he’d received a call that his dad was gravely ill, and he had rushed to his side. I’d waited for him that night but left with Alex and some girlfriends and have spent the last two years caught in a cycle of regret, reminiscence, and resentment…” I trail off as she continues to look at me very intensely.

I go on, under her fervent stare.

“I knew Alex had an older brother, but he’s always called him Enrico, so… so it never even entered my head to ask more about something he was so undeniably closed off about, you know? It wasn’t until just before the Gala that I realised they were brothers and, well, we all saw what happened there, didn’t we?”

Shrugging helplessly, as I lay it all bare for my friend, who is more a mother figure than my own had been to me, I look at her with wide eyes, taking in her demure figure that belies the strength underneath.

She gazes into the distance and speaks so quietly I have to strain to hear, even though there’s nothing but the background noise of Mike loading the dishwasher.

“I remember when Henry took up the mantle after his father had passed. He was adamant about doing right by the man, despite his father’s treatment of him. And his brother.”

“You knew Henry’s father?” She nods her head. “Yes, very well. We started at the company around the same time. His own father was a moody shit, but he was fair, and even though women in business would have been very unpopular then, he gave me the chance to move on from your basic secretary role, which is where I’d started. Now, consider that the whole industry back then was nothing like today’s world. Of course, it’s a lot more complicated these days, but Henry runs a tight ship, and he’s good at his job, no thanks to his father.”

“Were they not close, then?”

“Goodness, no, honey. I remember when Enrico married his first wife, Katherine, or Kat, as she went by. It was like she was the sun and his whole world revolved around her. When he took the reins, he brought her in as an advisor, a role she excelled at, and it was her input that truly helped propel the company into the global giant it is today. They’d often leave Henry running riot around the building—not where we’re based now, you know? It was a lot smaller back then. Anyway, he had the entire staff wrapped around his pudgy little finger, none more so than Kat. Their bond was a thing of beauty.” Her face changes, her eyes becoming veiled as her lips turn down.

“When she got sick, Henry was only four years old. Just a baby! She fought it for two years. Cancer. Ravaged her until she was a shadow of her former self, and even so, she pushed on for them. Enrico and Henry, they were her reason for living.” She stops for a moment, shaking her head as though she can hardly believe it despite living through it.

“Eventually, she passed, leaving a gaping hole in the lives of her husband and young son.”

Regardless of how I’m feeling towards adult Henry right now, I can’t help my heart’s overflowing sympathy for the child he was when he lost the most significant female influence of his life. And judging from our conversation the first night we met—a conversation I can still remember word for word—it’s something he has never entirely accepted.

Knocking a shot of tequila back, Martha hands the other one to me, holding two fingers up for Mike to replenish. “When Kat was diagnosed, they travelled worldwide to find a solution. They tried everything. And so, they hired a nanny for Henry to accompany them on their endeavour. I don’t know if you’ve met Alex’s mum, Lauren…”

Grimacing, I nod. “Yeah. Eh, she’s not my biggest fan.”

Martha snorts out a laugh. “I wouldn’t feel bad about that, honey. She’s a fucking bitch if ever I met one. I’ll never know how Alex turned out half as well-rounded as he is.”

My eyes are wide, my mouth dropped open, catching flies at the shock of hearing Martha speak about anyone in such a manner, but she continues as if she’s not just blown my mind.

“Lauren was their nanny.”

My ears can scarcely believe what they are hearing, and true to form, my eyes almost fall from their sockets as Martha nods slowly. “An innocent-looking, beautiful nineteen-year-old when she was hired. By all accounts, she gave a fantastic interview, coming highly recommended. But, unfortunately, at least from what I witnessed, she never really interacted with Henry, called him Enrico despite both parents preferring the English version, at least initially. His baptismal name had been purely to satisfy his Nonno.

“She had a blatant obsession with Enrico, although she kept Kat sweet enough that dismissing her was never even on the table.”

Her eyes narrow at the memory of whatever is coming next, almost as though she’s forgotten I’m here.