Charlie watched him snap shut his briefcase, blinking back the tears.
'Already?' The tremble in her voice gave her away.
'Afraid so.' The bellboy arrived to take the suitcases and Jake brushed a brief kiss against her trembling lips and left.
Dr Jones had been Charlie's GP all her life. He dined at the hotel restaurant regularly, and quite often Charlie joined him: he was more friend than doctor. But looking at him now, she was horrified.
'You're sure?' she asked for the third time.
'Yes, Charlie dear. From the date you have given me, you are almost seven weeks pregnant.'
'But we used protection,' she murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.
'Obviously not enough,' Dr Jones said dryly. 'But it isn't the end of the world. You're pregnant, not ill; you're a very fit young woman, Charlie, and I know you will have a beautiful, healthy baby. So I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Go home and tell the lucky man.'
Easier said than done. Charlie thought, staring blindly at the pile of invoices on the desk in front of her three days later.
It’s no good sitting daydreaming, Charlie.'
At the sound of her manager Jeffs voice, her head lifted. 'I am not dreaming,' she snapped. 'I'm trying to work.'
If you say so.' Jeff stopped by the desk and looked down at her, compassion in his grey eyes. 'You should tell the father. He has a right to know. It's not like you to shirk your responsibilities.'
Jeff had known Charlie since she was twelve, when he had been hired by her grandfather to manage the hotel. She had been a bright, lively child, a joy to all who knew her, and he hated to see her so miserable.
'This baby is my responsibility, and what I would like to know is, how the hell did all the staff find out I was pregnant the same day it was confirmed?' Charlie demanded, running a hand distractedly through her blonde hair.
'Maybe because you came back from your holiday, glowing like a woman in love, you mentioned Jake d'Amato just once or twice and bought a ' 'Teach Yourself Italian' ' book. So when you started dashing off to be sick every day, it was a bit of a give-away. Plus everyone knew you had a doctor's appointment,' Jeff said with a chuckle. 'They all care about you, and most of them guessed you were pregnant long before you realised what was up.'
'Thanks! Thanks very much! So not only does everyone in the hotel know I'm pregnant, they think I'm a pregnant idiot for not recognising the signs.' Charlie groaned. 'What am I going to do?'
'I've told you. Ring the man, and do it now. I have to go and fill in on the desk. Amy was supposed to be on Reception but she has an optician's appointment. I'll catch you later. Do it,' Jeff reiterated, walking out the door.
The trouble was, Charlie thought forlornly, she already had called Jake's home near Genoa three times since the doctor had confirmed her pregnancy, hoping to get a message to him, but she had only managed to speak to some woman called Marta, whose English was as bad as Charlie's Italian.
In the five weeks since she had last seen Jake, her tentative belief that he might love her as she loved him had taken a severe jolt. He'd rung to make sure she'd arrived back home safely, and then nothing for a week. Then he'd called to tell her he was going to America and would get in touch when he got back. She had heard nothing since, but had lived on hope and consoled herself with the fact she knew he was in America.
But yesterday, leafing through a magazine one of the departing guests had left behind, she had seen a double-page spread of a prestigious charity dinner in New York, and staring out from one picture was Jake d'Amato with a stunning brunette at his side. According to the item accompanying the picture, Jake's companion was Melissa, a model and long-time 'friend' of Jake, better known
for her string of wealthy lovers than her modelling career.
Charlie hadn't tried to call Jake again. Face it, she told herself sadly, she had been taken for a fool. While she had fallen in love, to Jake she had been nothing more than a passing fancy. She blinked back the tears that moistened her eyes. She was not going to cry. She had done enough of that in the past few weeks and she had to stop.
She should have known a man like Jake d'Amato was far too sophisticated to be attracted by a naive virgin for long. Remembering the last day when they had parted, she knew she had felt him withdrawing from her. He had been cool and his kiss goodbye had been little more than a peck. In fact, when Charlie thought about it now, the only thing that was surprising was that he had bothered to call her at all!
Anger and pain bubbled up inside her. In every other area of her life she was super-efficient. She could run a hotel, climb a rock-face, or search for the dead and dying in any catastrophe around the world. She was compassionate by nature and slow to anger. Yet in the male-female stakes she was an absolute novice.
Morosely, she concluded falling in love was heaven and hell. In her case mostly hell: the butterflies in the stomach, the hunger, the need for one man and the constant doubt as to whether Jake felt the same. Well, it was all going to change. She had been acting like a lovesick fool long enough.
Angrily she brushed her hand across her eyes and, shoving back the chair, she stood up, squaring her slender shoulders. No man was going to take her for a mug and get away with it, she vowed. In fact... Impulsively she grabbed the telephone and pressed out a number she knew by heart. She heard the 'Pronto, ' through a red mist of anger, and burst into speech. She didn't care if Marta only understood one word in ten. Charlie was going to have her say.
'Tell that no-good bastard you call a boss, I am pregnant and he is going to be a father.Charlotte incinta, Jake papà—capisco?' She sarcastically inserted the few Italian words she knew, regardless of grammar, and slammed die phone down.
Whether they made sense or Marta understood, Charlie didn't care. It had made her feel a hell of a lot better. Plus, she thought as she left her office, she could tell Jeff quite honestly she had done the right thing and told the father, and get him off her back.
'I could cover Amy's shift for you, Jeff,' she offered, stopping at the reception desk. With the hotel booked solid for the summer, the staff were at full stretch, and Charlie was adept at filling in when the need arose.
'No, I'm fine. Why don't you take the day off? You've hardly been out of the place in weeks. The sun is shining and Dave and his brood are going sailing for the day. Chef is preparing a picnic. I'll tell him to add a few of your favourites and you can join them. It will do you the world of good.'