Italian Summer with the Single Dad

by Ella Hayes

  ‘Can we do a fun one?’ Lucas was looking at her expectantly.

  She smiled. ‘What did you have in mind?’ Her stomach was churning. She couldn’t refuse. Lucas was the client after all, but Ralph was going to arrive at any moment and he wouldn’t like it.

  Zach was smiling at her and there was something in his eyes that chased her fears away. ‘He wants to do a leaning shot. Look! We’ll show you.’

  She glanced at the big entrance door. No sign of Ralph—hopefully, he was still busy with Sophie and the bridesmaids. She tried to push him out of her thoughts as she watched Lucas and the men arranging themselves into a line. On a count of three, they canted their bodies at a forty-five-degree angle and burst out laughing. She couldn’t help laughing too and fired off a succession of frames. This was what she loved about photographing weddings, being part of spontaneous moments like this.

  ‘Olivia!’

  The camera skewed in her hands. She took a breath and looked over to the vast doorway where Ralph was standing, rigid as a statue. A small shiver of guilt forked through her limbs and then slowly, deliberately, she tucked it away. She’d done nothing wrong. He was just being cranky as usual. She looked over at the men, who were still laughing and jostling each other. They didn’t seem to have noticed anything and she was relieved. She pinned on a bright smile and stepped towards them.

  ‘Ralph’s here to take your formal pictures now.’ She could feel Zach’s eyes on her but forced herself to look at Lucas. ‘Have fun! I’ll see you later.’

  As she walked towards the house she wondered if Zach was still watching her, but then she pushed the thought away because Ralph was waiting for her in the doorway, his eyes flinty, his mouth a grim straight line.

  * * *

  Zach Merrill couldn’t help noticing the way Olivia had reacted to Holdsworth’s voice. She’d sort of curled into herself, then quickly conjured up some fake brightness before walking away. He’d watched the pair of them talking in the doorway. He couldn’t read their lips but he could read their body language. For some reason Holdsworth had been remonstrating with her, and from the tilt of her chin he could tell she’d been fighting her corner, whatever that might be.

  He couldn’t imagine what Holdsworth was upset about. Olivia Gardner struck him as polite and professional. How subtly she’d handled the issue with the lopsided rose on his brother’s lapel, the rogue spot of toothpaste. She had an eye for detail, an easy, engaging manner, a lovely smile... She was clearly an asset and he hoped that Holdsworth could see it. Zach certainly knew which one of them he preferred. He came back to the moment, focused on what Holdsworth was saying.

  ‘Okay, guys, walk forward now, swing your arms, talk to each other...laughing’s good, keep it natural.’

  The photographer was lying on his stomach, a plastic sheet spread out beneath him. He was pointing a camera in their direction. They only had to walk towards him but he was making them do it again and again; it was getting hard to keep up the fake chatter and laughter. As they set off for the umpteenth time Lucas leaned in and whispered to him that Holdsworth was costing Sophie’s parents a small fortune so maybe doing every shot a hundred times was how he justified his fee. They both laughed out loud at that one, then laughed all over again when Holdsworth called out, ‘That’s the money shot!’

  * * *

  He was doing his best to be sociable, but now that the ceremony was over Zach was feeling restless. He’d caught up with his family, mingled with the guests, but he’d only been half listening to conversations, smiling in all the right places. It was his brother’s wedding: a special occasion. He knew he ought to be enjoying himself, but it felt too much like work. He’d rather have been talking to the band. He’d seen them rocking up in their van, jaunty strides as they unloaded their amps and speakers, the big black cases for drums and keyboards. Guitars!

  He lifted a fresh glass from a passing tray and retreated to a quiet corner of the terrace. He watched Holdsworth directing Lucas and Sophie into romantic poses at the lakeside, waving his hands about, cameras swinging from his shoulders, full of nervous energy. An image flashed into his head—Olivia and Holdsworth in the doorway—an altercation. He scanned the edges of the crowd, looking for the girl’s nimble figure, her chestnut ponytail, the red camera strap around her neck, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  She’d been there during the formal family photos, organising them all. Addressing them by name, adjusting ties and corsages, gentle hands on shoulders—turn this way a little please—flashing her warm, bright smile. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. She was lovely...and so good with people, so polished. She’d caught his eye a couple of times and then she’d smiled and blushed a little bit and he’d found himself smiling too because she was flirting with him and for some reason he liked it. In no time at all the family photo session was done. It had gone so smoothly that if he hadn’t seen them fighting he would have assumed that Olivia and Holdsworth were the best of friends.

  He shifted his gaze back to the lake. Lucas was facing Sophie now, forehead to forehead. Sophie was giggling and Holdsworth was calling out instructions from behind the camera. ‘Keep it! Hold it!’

  He felt a smile growing on his lips. Sophie and Lucas were besotted with each other, perfect for one another. He could see a happy future for them because they were soulmates. That was what he’d written in his speech anyway, but as a deep ache filled his heart he wondered if he’d be able to say those words at all. The climbing voices around him suddenly felt too loud. He parked his glass and slipped away into the garden.

  The grounds of Kensall Manor were extensive. As he walked, the voices on the terrace dwindled to a burble then gave way to birdsong. He passed through a wrought iron gate into an orchard and wandered through gnarled apple trees laden with blossom, alive with the buzzing and humming of bees. He let his mind drift to memories of his own wedding day. He could still see Izzy walking towards him through the lemon trees, patches of sunlight dappling on her skin, splashing the silk chiffon of her dress. She’d had that look in her eye, that secret smile she kept for him alone. His heart had buckled in his chest as she’d turned towards him and threaded her fingers into his. She had been his one perfect love, his life, his everything, and now she was gone, snatched from him in a tragic instant. He swallowed hard, plucked a blossom from a low branch. Marrying your soulmate was not a passport to a happy future. The future was as delicate and destructible as the flower he held in his hand.

  He drew a steadying breath and checked his watch. He wondered if Alessia had woken from her nap yet. So many new faces, and this big strange house in the English countryside—it was bound to be tiring for a three-year-old. He hadn’t been sure about bringing her at all, but of course his mother was always keen to see her granddaughter, and Lucas had insisted that his little niece should come to the wedding.

  He crushed the flower between his fingers and let it fall to the ground. In half an hour the guests were going to be seated for the wedding breakfast and the more he thought about his speech, the more anxious he felt. He checked his inside pocket, touched the paper folded up inside. He wasn’t nervous about speaking in public—as a hotelier, talking to people was an integral part of his life—but the speech he’d written about soulmates and everlasting love would unravel him, he just knew it. Perhaps if he altered some lines here and there, skimmed over the emotional stuff, he’d manage to hold it together. He just needed a pen and a quiet place to do it.

  * * *

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry—’ He stopped mid-stride, the breath catching in his throat. Olivia Gardner was sitting in front of a laptop surrounded by camera equipment. ‘I was told this room was empty.’

  ‘It’s almost empty.’ She smiled hesitantly. ‘There’s only me here.’

  He noticed a faint colour in her cheeks as she held his gaze. He noticed his own pulse. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Of course.’

>   He stepped into the room and closed the door. ‘I need to look at my speech.’

  She plugged a device into the side of her laptop. ‘Don’t mind me—if you want to practise, I mean.’

  ‘It’s not speaking I’m worried about.’ He reached into his pocket for the thin wad of paper. ‘I need to revise what I’m saying.’

  ‘Ah.’ She pressed a key and looked up. ‘I get it! You’re having second thoughts about giving your brother a roasting...?’

  ‘Something like that.’ He couldn’t tell her that he was trying to avoid embarrassing himself. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a pen?’

  ‘I have.’ She rooted through the pockets of the jacket hanging over the back of her chair. ‘Somewhere...’

  He stepped closer, noticed thumbnail images filling the computer screen.

  ‘Here!’ She was holding out a silver pen, warm brown eyes fixed on his.

  ‘Thanks.’ He took the pen, motioned to the laptop. ‘Editing already?’

  ‘No. Just downloading and backing up. We bank images as we go along, just in case.’

  ‘Can I see some?’

  She glanced at the door and it wasn’t hard to read her thoughts.

  ‘You don’t have to worry—Holdsworth’s at the lake with Lucas and Sophie.’ He smiled. ‘It can be our little secret.’

  She hesitated then met his gaze squarely. ‘It’s not—Ralph’s a very talented photographer—’

  ‘Who’s difficult to work with, I imagine...?’

  Her lips were quirking into a half-smile. ‘He can be challenging...’

  ‘Extremely challenging, from what I’ve seen.’

  She was pressing her lips together hard, trying to suppress a smile but her eyes were giving her away. ‘Ralph’s...okay.’

  She might have issues with her boss but she was keeping them to herself. Zach admired her loyalty though he wondered if Holdsworth deserved it.

  ‘I’d really like to see your pictures. What about the photo you took of us leaning? Will you show me that one at least?’

  She scrunched her face up. ‘Well, I do have to flag some photos for a slideshow... I suppose if you happened to be sitting close by, you might accidentally see some images...’

  The mischievous gleam in her eye was irresistible. He knew he ought to be looking at his speech, but his curiosity about her was getting the better of him. She struck him as talented and he wanted to know if he was right. He sat beside her then opened up his speech and smoothed it out on the table. There was something joyful about the little conspiracy they were sharing and when he spoke he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. ‘I’ll just work on my speech...’

  She turned to face him, eyebrows arching. ‘And I’ll go through the pictures I took this morning...’

  For a long moment he held her gaze. He noticed the curve of her cheek, the wisp of hair falling against her neck, the sweet shape of her mouth and he noticed the way her expression was changing, how the light in her eyes felt like a soft pocket of warmth—felt like home. Confused suddenly, he forced himself to look away and concentrate on the screen.

  Her pictures were good! Sharp, clear, well-composed. The leaning shot made him laugh—Lucas was going to love it. She’d caught some great candid moments on the terrace too. When he saw a familiar little face with thick dark lashes the breath caught in his throat.

  ‘Stop!’

  ‘You want to see this one?’

  He nodded.

  With a click, she enlarged the image so that his daughter’s face filled the screen. He stared at the photograph. Alessia was wearing her mother’s secret smile. She was a happy little girl but he’d never seen that smile on her face before. Suddenly he felt disorientated, stranded between the past and the present.

  Olivia leaned back in her chair. ‘She’s lovely, isn’t she? Is she a relative?’

  ‘Yes.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Alessia is my daughter.’

  ‘Oh!’ She looked shocked then a little embarrassed. ‘I didn’t know she was yours...’

  Two spots of colour were blooming on her cheeks and instantly he felt guilty. She hadn’t seen him with Alessia. His mother had been babysitting all day, and Alessia had been taking a nap while the family photos were being taken. Olivia knew nothing about his situation. All she knew was that he’d been catching her eye all day, smiling at her, receptive to her flirting. Maybe he’d even encouraged it. He’d have to think about that later, but right now he owed her an explanation.

  ‘Her name is Alessia.’ He swallowed. ‘The way you’ve caught her—her smile. She looks just like her mother.’

  He noticed Olivia glancing at the gold band on his left hand, noticed a new flush of colour creeping upwards from the base of her throat.

  ‘Is your wife—?’

  ‘No! She isn’t here.’ With difficulty, he held her gaze. ‘She passed away two years ago.’

  Olivia’s face crumpled. ‘Oh, no. No! I’m so sorry.’ Her words escaped in a gasp and she lifted her hand as if she was going to touch him, but she didn’t, just held his gaze with glistening eyes. ‘Alessia must have been a baby.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘We’d just celebrated her first birthday...’ In his mind he could see Izzy holding the lemon birthday cake she’d made, icing sugar in her hair and on her nose, and that scary moment when Alessia had reached out to touch the single burning candle. He’d blown it out just in time.

  Olivia turned to look at the screen. ‘If Alessia looks like her mother, your wife must have been beautiful.’

  ‘She was...’ He watched her, staring at the screen, chewing her lip. He supposed she was taking it all in, feeling foolish perhaps... He couldn’t tell her he was feeling foolish too. He’d never expected to feel attracted to his brother’s wedding photographer, never expected to be sitting beside her, breathing in the scent of her perfume, telling her about his wife and daughter.

  The mounting noise of footsteps and voices in the hall outside seemed to draw a line under the moment and it was a relief. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’d better go... Everyone’s coming in...’ He folded up his untouched speech. ‘Looks like I’m going with the speech as it is.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be great!’ She smiled. ‘Actually, it better be great because I’ll be taking pictures during the speeches—you need to give me some good moments!’

  There was something reassuring in her gaze, something that bolstered his spirits. He got to his feet, slipped the pen into his pocket. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  * * *

  Olivia adjusted her ponytail and fanned her face with her hands. The great hall was warm in the aftermath of dinner, but it wasn’t the only reason her cheeks felt hot. She was still reeling from everything Zach had told her, felt so stupid for thinking...for imagining... How had she managed not to notice his wedding ring? So much for supposedly having an eye for detail!

  She looked across to the top table. He was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper—revising his speech after all. His mother was sitting in the next seat with Alessia on her knee. Alessia was clasping a crayon, bent over a colouring book, concentrating hard, except for the moments when she stopped to look at Zach. Alessia was copying him and he had no idea. Fathers and daughters... She pushed the thought away, lifted the camera and snapped a lady in a pink hat blowing bubbles from a tiny bottle.

  Zach had let her down gently she supposed, but the more she thought about it, the more she realised that he’d been at it too with his lingering looks and little smiles during the family photos—it definitely wasn’t her imagination.

  She scanned the room for more photo opportunities, snapped a man putting on his wife’s hat, acting the fool. She looked at Zach again. His lips were moving, rehearsing the new words he’d written, her silver pen glinting in his hand.

  Maybe the truth was that they were attracted to each other, but
a random wedding day crush wasn’t going to lead to anything, especially since a widower with a daughter was the last thing she was looking for.

  Too complicated!

  She didn’t like loose ends. She liked things cut and dried, wanted someone she could build a life with, not someone who had a life she’d have to fit into. She glanced at Alessia. She knew nothing about small children, didn’t see herself as a stepmother. She was only twenty-four; she was still carving out a career. Emotional entanglements would only take her eye off the ball. She had to push forward, seize opportunities...

  She scanned the room, saw Ralph talking to a young couple then discreetly handing them a business card. Networking was easy for him—he had a good reputation, a solid client base. If she started up on her own she’d have to break in and that was difficult, especially since she wanted high-end clients.

  Yet again she found her gaze drifting back to the top table. Zach had really liked her photographs. He might recommend her to people he knew. The Merrill family owned a hotel chain after all... Suddenly he looked up, straight into her eyes and there it was again, that feeling that there was something between them. She smiled back quickly and looked away. No! She wouldn’t be able to ask Zach for any favours. He only had to look at her and her head started to spin.

  When she saw the Master of Ceremonies approaching the top table to announce the speeches, she lifted her camera. Photographing the speeches was another concession Ralph had made to her. She needed to focus on getting great pictures because, until she found the courage to break out on her own, she needed this job.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Six weeks later...

  OLIVIA MADE HER way down the aisle of the bus and sank into a seat. She hefted her camera bag onto the vacant seat beside her and rummaged in her other bag for her sunglasses. In spite of the tinted windows, it seemed too bright. Bright and sunny and warm. Deliciously warm!