by Melissa Hill
There were worse career paths, and the photography side was definitely something she could get excited about. She could also perhaps finally put in practice a lot of what she’d learned in her business degree. On her own terms.
Maybe her parents had been right in forcing her to do that much.
Kim knew she had to think this through properly, though. Given the origin of some of the captions and inspirational quotes she’d already used to further her growing social media audience, she figured she needed to see if she could source the journal’s origins.
Since Valentina apparently worked for a local property maintenance company and didn’t know anything about Villa Dolce Vita’s owner, Kim had in the meantime called the agent through which she’d made her original booking.
In fits and starts, given the language barrier, she learned that the house once belonged to an English couple who had passed away many years before. The wife lived in the house alone after her husband died, and according to reports she’d been reclusive, keeping to herself and rarely venturing out.
The story was that she and her husband hadn’t been the best of parents and had become estranged from their children back in their home country. When they died, there was some issue with the title deeds, which made the house difficult to sell, so the couple’s only remaining relative – a grandchild – had taken over the villa and begun renting it out from afar in order to make some money.
The story was a sad one. Kim couldn’t imagine what it would be like being old and alone in a foreign country. She wondered whether that perhaps was the reason the widow had started writing? It made sense given the dual language element of the content.
Had Villa Dolce Vita’s former owner written down the things she’d wished she’d been able to change in her life? Were those words of wisdom her catharsis for the mistakes she’d made and the dreams she’d lost? Was the journal that had lately inspired Kim so much been borne from regret? The thought was possibly even more affecting than the book’s contents.
However, there seemed little point in her trying to dig any deeper. If the journal happened to have been left there by a guest at some unidentifiable point in the past, then there was no way in hell Kim would be able to track him or her down. And if it had ultimately belonged to Villa Dolce Vita’s owner, then that person was long dead and their family didn’t care.
They’d probably never read the journal or even knew it existed.
That day in Amalfi, Kim had exchanged numbers with Emilia and the older woman had urged her to contact her for advice and direction in how best to move forward if she chose to do so.
She really seemed to think Kim had something special.
‘Be sure to use the number. Don’t take it and forget about it,’ she’d encouraged.
‘Please do,’ Antonio teased, his eyes twinkling. ‘If you do not, Emilia will never stop talking about it.’
Kim laughed. ‘I promise I will. Enjoy the rest of your stay.’
‘Likewise,’ Antonio replied. ‘Perhaps we will see you again before it is over.’
Should she truly consider picking up the phone? Kim wasn’t sure. It was a big step. A bold step.
The biggest adventure that you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams.
‘So what do you think?’ Colette was chattering on alongside her as they walked, telling Kim all about the latest with Luca.
Kim wished she had some words of wisdom for her, but there was nothing in the journal about romance, and she didn’t really have enough experience herself in matters of the heart to advise.
It seemed as if both of her friends’ summer romances had begun to turn – a couple of nights earlier, Annie had returned home from her latest date in a foul mood, and had spent the last few days brooding and moping around the villa.
Obviously, if things were over, her mysterious Prince Charming would remain that way.
Kim and Colette had asked her to come along on today’s hike, conscious that their time as a trio together at the villa was coming to an end and there was still so much of the area they hadn’t explored, but Annie had flat out refused.
Kim hated seeing her like this. She was usually so vivacious and fun-loving, it was as if her spark had been snuffed out by whatever was going on with her love life. Kim really hoped she’d come out of her funk before her stay was over, or at least before Colette departed at the end of the week. It was a bummer of a way to end what was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime, though Colette, it seemed, was just as wrapped up in her own relationship woes as her carefree days in Italy were coming to a close.
‘Sorry, what?’ Kim asked, turning to her now, and feeling guilty for only really half listening.
‘I was just saying that I don’t think there’s actually anything wrong with meeting Ed for coffee, just as friends. Luca can’t complain about it, can he? Not when we’re not officially together.’
‘Sure, I think you’re right, and good for you for keeping your options open, just in case.’
But when the younger girl looked crestfallen, Kim figured she’d said the wrong thing.
‘So you don’t think there’s any future for Luca and I beyond a holiday romance?’ she queried.
‘No, no, I’m not saying that at all. It’s just … you’re an independent woman and you can see and meet who you like. You don’t need anyone’s approval, least of all a guy’s.’
But Colette still looked uncertain so Kim decided to change the subject.
‘Hey, let’s pick up the pace and see if we can reach the next gift shop before Manolo Lady.’ She indicated with a grin a woman up ahead who was gamely making the climb in four-inch heels.
They’d spotted her on the trail on the way up, and Kim had to admire the Italian determination to remain stylish above all else. She and Colette were wearing trainers, and while the terrain wasn’t all that difficult underfoot, she’d much rather keep her fancy shoes for a fancy event.
She was also a bit taken aback to find that, instead of the wholly wild and natural volcanic attraction she’d expected, there were actually three different gift shops at various points on the ascent to the volcano’s crater, and worse, hikers had to actually trek right through them to get to the top. She’d thought the theme parks back home were bad, but this was another level.
Still, it was a fun – if blisteringly hot – climb, and the views from the top were pretty special, too.
Half an hour later, when she and Colette had finished their descent and had just reached the bus parking area to meet their transport back to Positano, her mobile phone rang.
Her eyes widened a little when she saw from the caller display that it was Emilia.
‘Hi,’ she greeted, uncertain what the French woman might want, but equally exhilarated to think that it might be about furthering their conversation about how to turn The Sweet Life into an actual business.
She was right.
‘You also said you wanted to learn more about photography and how to do it better?’ Emilia said, after they’d chatted a little and Kim told her she was indeed up for exploring things further.
‘Well … yes, I think so.’
‘One of my photographers is coming to Sorrento soon on an assignment for the magazine. He is American, too, and he would be delighted to give you some tips. He says he can come to your accommodation. Tell me your address and I will give him your number also.’ Kim could hear the smile in Emilia’s voice as she continued. ‘His name is Gabriel Cuminetti. I think you will love him.’
Chapter 40
Now
Annie had a migraine for the fourth day running, and it was showing no signs of stopping.
She knew what she needed to do, but she couldn’t take the time off required to deal with it. Creditors were calling about their unpaid invoices. The end of the month was quickly approaching and there were more and more people looking to get paid. Then there were the usual bills, not to mention her own personal expenses to consider.
‘I know we ow
e you – I just need a little time to sort things out,’ she recited to yet another supplier on the other end of the line.
She was getting so used to uttering those words, they were becoming her own painful prose.
‘Annie, I have bills of my own to pay and when I don’t pay, I don’t get the stock,’ John Butler, her supplier, pointed out. ‘So why should you?’
She sighed. ‘I know. I just need a little time, John,’ she repeated. ‘Please don’t cut me off. I know my cash flow problems are not your problems, but I’m asking you to just give me a little more time and I promise that I’ll get it sorted.’
I’ve already given you ample time. If you don’t pay the outstanding balances within seven days, I’ll hand this matter over to a collection agency. Frank fobbed me off enough times already, so I don’t have much confidence in your promises, either.’
‘But I didn’t know about the backlog. I assure you if I had known I would’ve made sure you were paid long ago. I only just found out that there were some delays and I’m trying to rectify that,’ Annie explained. She closed her eyes and massaged her temple.
‘What kind of owner doesn’t know what’s going on with their own business?’ John asked.
His question caused her eyes to snap open. ‘The kind who trusts too easily,’ she answered bitterly.
‘Where’s Frank?’
‘He’s gone,’ Annie answered. And with him most of my company’s money and life savings.
‘Can you please give me a little more time?’ she implored. ‘I promise I’ll sort this out.’
Annie hated the sound of her own voice saying those words. She was begging. She didn’t beg, but what choice did she have? If she could keep the creditors at bay just a little while longer, there was a chance she could come up with some kind of plan. If she couldn’t, her livelihood and everything she’d worked for was over.
‘OK, one last chance, Annie.’
The words were music to her ears.
‘That’s great. I owe you one,’ she answered in relief. ‘And I will send some money to you this month. I don’t know how much yet, but it will be something. I promise.’
She hung up the phone and dropped her head on her desk.
She couldn’t bask in that small triumph just yet. There were several more people she needed to call, including the bank. She was definitely going to need another business loan, though at this point she wasn’t sure the bank would give it to her.
She needed another coffee. And something for her migraine, too.
Putting on her best game face, Annie headed out onto the salon floor.
‘Hello, ladies,’ she greeted cheerfully. The stylists and customers alike all smiled in return.
‘Oh, Annie, there you are – do you have a minute?’ Lauren Hennessy, one of her best regulars, called out as she passed the waiting area.
Since day one, Lauren had been coming to #GlamSquad for her weekly wash and curly blow dry, or colour treatment and trim, and had even followed her when she moved premises.
The jackhammer in Annie’s head seemed to get even louder, but still she flashed Lauren a game smile. ‘’Course, Lauren. How are you?’
‘Privately?’
Annie tried to quiet the discomfort she felt.
What now?
‘OK, why don’t you come back to my office?’ She turned to reception. ‘Amanda, hold Lauren’s appointment for a bit. And be a star and get us both a cuppa. Tea or coffee?’ she asked her customer.
‘Tea, please. And maybe a biscuit if you have one.’
The two women walked towards the back of the salon, Annie’s thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the hell did Lauren want to discuss that required privacy?
‘Have a seat,’ Annie said as she closed the door behind them. ‘What can I do for you?’
Lauren’s expression was very still and it only made Annie’s anxiety worse.
‘Is everything OK, Annie?’ the older woman asked.
‘Yes, of course. What do you mean?’
‘Well, as you know I’ve been coming to you for a long time, and to my mind this place is one of the best. It’s just … I’ve heard a few things.’
‘What kind of things?’ she asked shortly.
‘Well, that you owe people a lot of money. That the business is under fierce pressure,’ Lauren said flatly.
Annie’s heart froze in her chest. How could she know this? Nick wouldn’t have said anything, would he?
She stared at Lauren. Words escaped her. If she denied it then Lauren would know she was a liar. If she admitted it then she risked her reputation and that of her salon.
‘Who told you that?’ she asked.
‘One of your suppliers is a client of my husband’s at the bank. He mentioned he was having some troubles with a salon who wouldn’t pay their bills. I’ve been a client of #GlamSquad for a long time, Annie. I wouldn’t have thought you to be dishonest.’
The implication stung and her hackles rose. And with it, Annie’s temper.
‘Dishonest? How dare you!’ she raged before she could stop herself. ‘I’m as honest as the day is long, which is more than I can say for your husband, talking out of school like that.’
‘Well …’ Lauren’s face reddened. ‘I was only asking because I’ve been coming here for so long and I thought of you as a friend. But obviously I was wrong.’
‘Lauren … wait. I’m sorry.’ Shit, the gossip mill would be running on overtime now. It was bad enough losing all her money; she shouldn’t be trying to lose all her best clients, too.
Oh fuck; Lauren’s husband worked at the bank where she had her business accounts and might well have some influence over whether or not she got her loan.
She breathed deeply, trying to swallow her pride. Perhaps she could save this and appeal to Lauren’s better nature by confessing the true nature of her problems. She hated admitting weakness to anyone but needs must this time …
But the woman was already on her feet and her expression now became cool. ‘You’re a fantastic stylist, Annie, and your salon has always been my favourite, but I’ll be taking my business elsewhere. I won’t be treated like this and certainly will no longer be associated with someone who doesn’t pay their way.’
Annie swallowed the lump that was trying to jump into her throat. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears that she could hardly hear Lauren speak. If she didn’t find a way to rescue this, then she was simply speeding along her livelihood’s demise.
She couldn’t let that happen.
‘Lauren, please, this is a stressful time. But believe me, I’m not dishonest, nor refusing to pay my way. I was swindled by someone who used to work for me and I’m just trying to find a way out of this mess. Please, I’m so sorry for snapping. And for what I said about your husband. I didn’t mean it.’
‘Oh, I think you did, actually. And while I meant what I said about your work, to be honest, Annie, your manner has always left a lot to be desired.’
With that Lauren swept out of the room.
Annie began to hyperventilate. She stumbled towards her desk and collapsed in the seat as she tried to catch her breath. As she did, her phone dinged and she reached for where she’d left it, wondering what fresh hell was about to be unleashed on her now.
It was Kim.
Hey, I sent you an invite to the launch but noticed you haven’t RSVP’d. Really hope you can make it?
For Christ’s sake! A goddamn jolly in Italy was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
Annie read the message a few times, resisting the urge to tell Kim Weston to just go and shag off with her big party and her thriving business and her sweet life.
She wanted to lie and say that she hadn’t received anything, but the invite and tickets had been delivered to the salon by courier so Kim would know that she had.
She really should have RSVP’d, or at least contacted her to thank her for her generosity, but so much had blown up since.
Oh God …
; She kneaded her forehead. There were so many fires to put out and too much stress. Her business was bust, customers were walking out the door, and she had no idea how to rescue this. She had no idea how she was even going to make this month’s rent, never mind anything else …
Then Annie thought of something.
She hated herself for it, and had sworn to herself she wouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it – the pull was irresistible.
She clicked onto social media and scrolled through photos she’d seen a million times before. The perfect life, perfect couple, perfect everything – all that she’d wanted and hoped for but could never have. It wasn’t fair.
To hell with it, she thought, picking up the phone, her fingers moving quickly over the screen.
Her life was falling apart anyway – what else was there to lose?
Chapter 41
Now
‘Hey, you with us?’ Gabriel asked Kim as they strolled through Pompeii with Lily.
The ruins of the great city always stirred her. It was a reminder of how easily and quickly life as you knew it could end.
The remnants of old houses, empty amphitheatres, and perfectly preserved figures spoke of a city whose tragic fall had been told and retold many times before the eyes of its visitors.
‘Sorry,’ she apologised as she took several quick steps to catch up with them. Lily was in her dad’s arms and playfully pulling on his nose while also attending to her favourite doll. Gabriel reached out an arm and wound it around Kim’s shoulders as she came closer.
‘Baby’s sleepy, Daddy.’
‘Is Lily sleepy, too?’ Gabriel asked, winking hopefully at Kim, but the little girl shook her head and continued to play.
Kim was still distracted and a few minutes later Gabriel repeated the question he’d asked on their arrival a few days before. ‘What’s going on? You’re miles away.’
‘Nothing,’ she continued to lie. She wanted to stop, but telling the truth was proving more difficult than she’d imagined.
He sighed. ‘You’re not being truthful, though, are you?’ he said, and Kim’s heart jumped into her chest. ‘I know you said you’d have some time to spend with us before everything kicked off, but maybe that was too optimistic.’