Wedding Bells at Villa Limoncello

by Daisy James

  ‘Meghan…’

  ‘Okay, so Gianni did happen to mention a certain Italian chef who’s been ‘showing you the sights’. Come on, Izzie, spill the juicy details. Jonti was so jealous he couldn’t come over with me that he made me promise to squeeze every ounce of gossip out of you. He even suggested I upload a video diary to my YouTube channel – but I’m not going to do that. So, who’s this secret tour guide?’

  ‘There’s no need to look at me like that,’ laughed Izzie, aware that her cheeks had coloured and therefore she’d completely given the game away on her true feelings. ‘Yes, I’ve made a few friends since I arrived. Carlotta and Gianni, whom you’ve met, a couple of women from the village, Oriana who makes the most amazing cakes and is also a professional yoga teacher too, and Francesca who…’

  ‘Izzie…’

  ‘Who’s a really talented florist. Did you know…’

  ‘Izzie!’

  ‘And there’s Luca, the chef at the local trattoria in San Vivaldo, Antonio’s.’

  ‘So, was it love at first sight?’

  Izzie rolled her eyes, but she was used to fielding these questions from Meghan so she rallied well.

  ‘No, it was fury!’

  ‘Fury? What do you mean?’

  ‘He was the guy I told you about, the one who ran me off the road causing me to end up sprawled in a field of sunflowers, staring into the dark, quizzical eyes of a very bemused donkey.’

  Meghan giggled and was about to press Izzie for further details when Gianni returned to the table.

  ‘Any wine left in that bottle?’

  ‘No,’ said Izzie, ‘but I’ll fetch another one from the kitchen.’

  ‘Make it two; Luca’s on his way over.’

  Izzie couldn’t help the corners of her lips from curling upwards. Ignoring the look of satisfaction on Meghan’s face, she made her way to the kitchen to collect another couple of bottles of Chianti, some fresh glasses and a few candles, relishing the swirl of excitement spinning through her veins.

  That day had been the best day she’d had for a very long time – and it was not over yet.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Terrace, Villa Limoncello

  Colour: Sparkling Sapphire

  ‘Hey!’

  Luca greeted Gianni with a fist bump and a manly hug before depositing the customary kisses on Izzie’s glowing cheeks. Over his shoulder she could see the smirk on Meghan’s face as her friend pushed herself out of her chair to experience the same greeting, her eyes sparkling with interest.

  ‘Luca, this is my best friend, Meghan Knowles, Megan this is Luca Castelotti.’

  ‘Hi Luca.’

  ‘Hi, Meghan, good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you already. So, is everything ready for tomorrow?’

  ‘Almost,’ said Izzie, glancing at Gianni as she poured everyone a generous glass of red wine before sitting back down at the table, revelling in the relaxed ambience on Villa Limoncello’s wonderful terrace now suffused with the golden glow of candlelight. ‘We had a bit of a hiccup this afternoon…’

  ‘Ah, yes, Gianni told me all about that. How on earth did you persuade Riccardo to agree to set you up with an electricity cable? He’s not the easiest man to deal with.’

  ‘Quid pro quo,’ said Izzie smiling.

  ‘Well, whatever it was, I could do with a slice of your diplomacy at the restaurant when customers complain about the service. Would you believe that some visitors expect their meal on the table within five minutes of ordering? I’m weary of explaining that everything we serve at Antonio’s is freshly prepared and does not come in a shrink-wrapped container. And if I’m asked for “salad dressing on the side” again, or for a sprinkle of bacon bits…’

  Izzie watched Luca run his palm over the stubble on his jawline, noting the tiredness beneath his eyes. It seemed Gianni had seen it too.

  ‘Okay, we all have a very early start in the morning with a very long day ahead, so I vote we call it a night. Meghan, have you discovered the reason the villa got its name yet?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You’ll love the limonaia! Come, I’ll show you. Did you know that the lemons that are grown here are the most…’

  Izzie watched the two new friends disappear from the end of the terrace, their voices melting away into the dark night and her heart gave a nip of pleasure at the happiness they had both found in each other’s company. Luca, too, stared after them, his lips curled into a smile as he tasted his wine.

  ‘The place looks amazing, Izzie. You’ve obviously worked hard to pull this off, especially after the initial… misunderstanding. Why don’t you consider staying on? I heard that the owner has plans to hold more weddings here, and maybe even offer courses if everything goes according to plan. Maybe you could be just the right person they’re looking for to organise them?’

  ‘Oh, I…’

  Izzie couldn’t help her eyes straying to the letter from Harry that was still lying on the table.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a letter Meghan brought with her from the UK.’

  ‘And…’

  She heaved a sigh. She hadn’t had time to think about what Harry’s offer meant. Should she stick with the comfort offered by familiarity, or perhaps think about resurrecting her interior design business, albeit on a smaller scale? Or did she have the courage to explore Luca’s suggestion? Until that afternoon she had never for one minute contemplated the possibility of staying on in Tuscany. That was a crazy idea, wasn’t it?

  ‘It’s an apology from my boss for the way his son handled my redundancy. He wants me to go back. Offered me a raise.’

  Luca remained silent as the scant breeze played with the candle’s flame, sending shadows dancing across the terrace. All around them, the villa’s nocturnal residents prepared to reclaim their habitat from their daytime predators and a pleasant aura of calm descended.

  ‘And how do you feel about that?’

  ‘To be honest, I’m not sure.’

  When she met Luca’s gaze to explain, she thought he was going to say something first; to remind her that she had blossomed under the Tuscan sun and that she was crazy to even contemplate a return to the same old drab existence that had been her life before she arrived at Villa Limoncello. But he didn’t.

  ‘Come on.’

  Luca stood up and held out his hand to pull her to her feet. When their fingers touched, her nerve endings thrummed with sparkles of desire and she smiled. Luca tucked her arm through his and guided her towards the path leading to the wedding gazebo, nestled in its clearing like a majestic Roman monument beneath the sparkling sapphire of the starlit sky. Together, they climbed the three steps that lead to the raised dais where the bride and groom would exchange their vows the following day and Izzie surveyed the surrounding scene from the elevated vantage point.

  The venue, the location, the backdrop, whatever term Brad used in his professional life, was perfect and a frisson of pride sped through her chest at what she had managed to accomplish in such a short space of time. Whether for a film shoot or a real Italian wedding, the setting was magical and very romantic. She inhaled the delicious lemony tang of Luca’s cologne, and, with her heart hammering against her ribcage, she raised her eyes to meet his, every sense zinging with anticipation. Warmth radiated from his body, and the whisper of his breath on her ear lobe sent delicious ripples cascading down her spine, but just as her lips were millimetres from his, something caused him to pull back.

  ‘Okay, Signorina Jenkins, I think it’s time for bed.’ Luca must have seen the surprise on her face because he grinned at her mischievously and she chastised herself for jumping to conclusions when he continued, ‘I don’t want to be responsible for any mistakes tomorrow due to sleep deprivation!’

  Before she could register what had just happened, Luca had guided her from the gazebo to the terrace, pecked her chastely on the cheek and jumped into his Spider, waving cheerily from the window. Silently, her emotions churning
in confusion, she watched him race down the driveway in a cloud of dust before disappearing through the gateposts.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Wedding Day, Villa Limoncello

  Colour: Pearly Chiffon

  Despite the tumultuous events of the previous day, Izzie slept better than she had for years. When her alarm woke her at five thirty, a trickle of dread invaded her chest. How on earth was she going to get through the day without succumbing to an avalanche of painful memories of a wedding day that had never happened? How would she be able to stop herself from comparing the bride’s dress with the simple ivory silk column that Anna had chosen, or the way she had decided to style her hair, or the music she had chosen?

  A fully-formed image of her beloved sister appeared before her, her eyes smiling softly, her auburn curls held away from her face, as familiar as her own, with a pretty white Alice band. To her surprise, Izzie’s heart was not filled with sadness for Anna’s absence, but with joy that her sister was there with her, in her bedroom, in Villa Limoncello, silently urging her to discard the painful memories and to enjoy her last full day in Tuscany.

  And Anna was right! There was no point dwelling on what might have been. And hadn’t she made a promise to live life for the both of them? She had no intention of reneging on the pledge she had made when she and Luca had been sitting on the bench in Boboli Gardens, so she shoved any thought of the past into the deep, dark crevices of her mind, leapt out of bed, with a smile on her face and a song in her heart, filled with determination to make sure the wedding went without a hitch.

  She showered and dressed quickly before giving Meghan a knock with the promise of coffee and warm croissants if she was downstairs in the next five minutes. After setting the kettle to boil, she checked her mobile and a squirm of delight meandered through her chest when she saw she had three missed calls from Luca already! She dialled his number, her spirits climbing even higher, but surprisingly the call went to voicemail. She left a quick message to say she was sorry she’d missed his calls and to text her when he got a moment.

  Feeling as though she was walking on cloud nine, she grabbed her trusty arch-lever file and opened it at the page headed The Big Day where every task was itemised right up to the minute the bride set foot on the red carpet. Of course, she realised that the situation was different to when she had drafted her list what seemed like eons ago, and that as soon as Brad turned up he would assume control of every detail, but until then, it was up to her to make tweaks and changes as necessary.

  Could some of her old self-reliance be returning? Was that possible? A swoop of confidence raced through her veins as she relished revisiting the skills she had learned from running her own business and the feeling of empowerment heightened her excitement. Was it really so different, staging someone’s home to staging a wedding venue?

  ‘Ciao, Carlotta,’ she trilled, causing Carlotta to peer over her glasses with suspicion.

  ‘Boungiorno, Isabella. Where’s Meghan?’

  Izzie glanced out of the window and giggled. ‘There.’

  Carlotta put down her bread knife and joined Izzie at the window just in time to see the two lovebirds disappear behind the pergola. She didn’t need a degree in Quantum Mechanics to work out what was going on.

  ‘I think it might be just the two of us this morning!’

  ‘And Vincenzo,’ added Carlotta, her cheeks colouring slightly.

  Feel-good endorphins zoomed through Izzie. Love was certainly in the air that day! Meghan and Gianni, now Carlotta and Vincenzo. Would she be adding Isabella and Luca to that list before the day was through? She checked her mobile, disappointed to see that there was no text from him, but she knew there was a lot to do at the restaurant to prepare for a day’s service. Maybe he would just appear at the villa, a smile lighting up those dark sexy eyes, dimples bracketing his soft lips…

  God, what was the matter with her? Get a grip, Izzie!

  With synchronised efficiency, Izzie worked alongside Carlotta to add the finishing touches to the reception menu until the first delivery of the day arrived at seven thirty.

  ‘Hey, Izzie, where do you want these?’ called Francesca from the doorstep, weighed down by a huge white cardboard box containing the bridal bouquet and the two bridesmaids’ posies, their perfume adding a different dimension to the leg of lamb roasting in the oven.

  ‘Could you put them, and the table decorations, in the dining room, please. It’s the coolest place until we can start dressing the tables. Need any help erecting the floral chandelier?’

  ‘Actually, I already have that sorted.’

  ‘Gianni?’

  ‘Yes, I bumped into him when I was unloading the van and he offered his services.’

  ‘Great, another item I can tick off the list.’

  ‘I noticed someone rigging up a generator over by the wishing well. Do you have a problem with your electricity?’

  ‘Not anymore,’ smiled Izzie, resolving to make a point of thanking Riccardo for his contribution by ensuring that his swimming pool was filled to the brim before she left for the airport the next day.

  The next half hour flew by with Francesca staying on to help out in the kitchen, chattering in high speed Italian with Carlotta and Vincenzo as they prepared the antipasto on six long wooden boards that would sit in the middle of the tables. There was food from every part of the colour spectrum; orange cantaloupe melon wrapped in prosciutto, green and black olives, sliced mozzarella and plump tomatoes, salami and fresh figs cut in half, pickled artichokes and mushrooms, a selection of sliced local cheeses, and fresh bread that was baking in the oven and sending wafts of mouth-watering smells into the kitchen.

  When Oriana arrived with the first of the seven-tiered wedding cakes, everyone stopped what they were doing to oooh, and ahhh in admiration. By ten forty-five, the photographer and his assistant had arrived to set up their equipment – surprisingly a lot more than Izzie had imagined – the harpist had settled into her allocated spot next to the gazebo steps, and a minivan had disgorged all thirty guests dressed in their wedding finery with professionally coiffed hair and make-up. Everything was ready for Brad’s final inspection, whenever he decided to arrive.

  Wherever Izzie looked, people were chattering, laughing, or being berated by Carlotta for touching the food. She closed her eyes, enjoying the way the sun’s rays wrapped her body in a warm embrace, until her brief daydream was interrupted by the squeal of an engine struggling to master the gradient of the hill. Within seconds, a giant SUV with dark tinted windows swung through the entrance and crunched towards the front door.

  From her vantage point she watched two men, dressed in identical black suits and crisp white shirts, alight from the vehicle, their matching mirrored sunglasses completing the impression that Villa Limoncello was getting a visit from the local Italian mafia. It was only when Meghan appeared from behind the pergola and flung her arms around the tallest man’s neck that Izzie realised that one of the men was Brad.

  For all Meghan’s gripes about her brother’s fortuitous escape from the weight of family obligations at the stud farm, and his continual requests for last minute support at his film shoots, it was clear that she loved him with a ferocity that was heart-warming to see. Standing next to each other, even the least observant of onlookers would immediately guess that they were brother and sister, with their matching ski-slope noses, their blue-green eyes, and their habit of flicking their blonde hair behind their ears only for it to fall back into their faces immediately. However, there was one huge difference; Meghan sparkled, and Brad looked like he hadn’t slept for a week.

  ‘Hi Izzie,’ he smiled, leaning forward to deposit a kiss on her cheek and give her a friendly squeeze. ‘Great to see you, and thanks for everything you’ve done to pull this off. I admit there were moments when I thought it wasn’t going to happen and I would never have been able to live with myself. I can’t apologise enough for the initial mix-up, and for being incommunicado for the last few days – first
filming, then editing – but from what I’ve seen it looks like you’ve got everything under control. In fact, the villa’s even more picturesque than I had hoped – and, wow, that floral chandelier over there is an absolute showstopper. Right, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a few last-minute changes to sort out before we can get this show on the road.’

  And that was it. The sum total of three minutes with the man whom Izzie credited with changing the whole direction of her life – even though he didn’t know it. Nevertheless, she resolved to find the time to thank him properly when all the mayhem was over.

  ‘Don’t worry, Izz, he’s always like that,’ laughed Meghan, seeing her disappointment. ‘Total focus is his mantra when it’s work, total chaos when it’s not! Perhaps it’s for the best that he seems to have categorised the wedding ceremony as work, otherwise who knows what would have happened! Come on, let’s do our own final check of the gazebo and the courtyard. Got a pen?’

  Izzie nodded, removed the last of the checklists from her file and ran her eyes down the items that should be in place before the wedding guests took their seats for the ceremony, after which she would just have to leave everything in the capable hands of the gods of matrimonial harmony. Gianni joined them to help tie the last of the floral wreaths to the shutters and watching him flirt with Meghan made Izzie wish Luca could have been there to witness what they had achieved in the space of a few days.

  And what an amazing achievement it was.

  Villa Limoncello had been transformed from a dusty old duchess into a sparkling princess. Its front door and paint-blistered shutters were still shabby but that only added to the charm of the rustic Tuscan farmhouse. The shady courtyard had been transformed into a banqueting area with three long trestle tables covered in pristine white linen, set with silver cutlery and crystal glasses all presided over by that magnificent floral chandelier. The gazebo was both dreamy and romantic, the only sound floating in the air was soft classical music, and when Izzie ticked off the last item on the last list she turned to Meghan with tears in her eyes.