by Melissa Hill
Colette, I am so sorry. You were right: this was just a summer fling. I didn’t mean to get so entangled. I will treasure our time together.
She stared at the words, unable to believe what she was reading. It couldn’t be true.
Tears filled her eyes as she stabbed at the screen of the phone and called the number back. But there was no answer.
‘Pick up,’ she cried, panicked. ‘You owe me that much at least.’
She dialled the number over and over, but still he never answered. She was almost tempted to call Mama Elene, but she didn’t want to involve the older woman and make her uncomfortable. It would be embarrassing and humiliating, and hadn’t she already been humiliated enough? The man who’d told Colette he abhorred mobile communication had had the audacity – the absolute neck – to dump her by text.
Hurrying away down the shore, away from the restaurant and the pitying looks from the restaurant hostess, Colette lowered herself onto the wet sand, not caring that she was ruining her brand-new dress.
It didn’t matter. She’d bought it for a memorable romantic last night with Luca and he wasn’t coming.
She didn’t matter.
It was all a lie. Her and Luca’s time together, his romantic words, his adoring glances, gentle hands – all a ploy to make her fall into bed with him. He’d probably done the same thing to other gullible tourist girls a million times before.
She was such an idiot, falling for his honeyed words and his Italian charm. The ultimate cliché. And when she’d pushed him the other day, asked him outright about his feelings, instead of being honest there and then, he’d told her he’d show her.
And he had.
‘You arse!’ she spat now, wiping tears from her eyes. She’d fallen for him. Despite Annie’s words of caution.
Her first time away on a foreign holiday in the land of her dreams and she’d been taken in – made a complete fool of – by the dashing local.
Of course Luca had made her feel like she was the only one – that was how they did it, wasn’t it? Years of experience with idiot tourists just like her had taught these guys everything they needed to know. He’d doled out exactly what Colette needed to hear. He’d identified and zoomed in on her weak spots, her vulnerabilities, making her feel like he was the only one who’d ever really understood her, while all the while just trying to get into her pants.
She should never have gone out with him on the boat that night. It was after that, when he did succeed in his efforts, that everything changed.
And then, when she’d tried to pin down his feelings, he’d run for the hills.
God, she was so stupid. And pathetic, too.
Even with the benefit of hindsight, the realisation was still devastating. She’d fallen – so hard – for Luca, and along with her heart, her pride had also taken one hell of a hit.
As her anger grew, she continued to try his number.
Let him tell her himself instead of hiding behind cowardly, pathetic text messages. How dare he? She didn’t want to believe that he’d be so callous towards her. She’d been so ready to give someone her heart for the first time in her life, and he was just playing with her.
How could anyone do that? Why would they?
‘Colette?’ a male voice called out suddenly from behind her.
She looked up as a bright, familiar grin greeted her, and she instinctively wiped her face.
‘Ed,’ she said in surprise, plastering a smile on her face. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘I thought it was you. I just spotted you from the promenade so I said I’d come down and say hello. I’m just on my way to a restaurant. L’Incanto – do you know it?’
Despite herself, Colette burst into tears.
‘Colette, what on earth … ?’ he asked, concern lacing every word. ‘What happened?’
She was too upset to speak. The more he questioned, the harder she cried, until finally Ed hunkered down on the sand beside her.
He put a comforting arm around her shoulders and she moved into his embrace.
‘Whatever’s the matter, you can tell me,’ he soothed, pulling her into his chest. ‘Is it the Italian guy?’ he questioned, and Colette now wished she hadn’t told him about Luca. But since he’d become more insistent about meeting up before she left for home, she’d had little choice but to let him know the details in the hope of letting him down more easily. ‘Where is he?’ Then his tone changed. Concern still lingered but there was something else in his voice now – suspicion. ‘Did he do something?’ He turned her face up towards his, willing her to meet his gaze. ‘Has he hurt you?’
Colette sniffled. ‘No, nothing like that. He’s not here.’
‘So why are you here on the beach all by yourself?’
She shook her head sadly, embarrassed afresh to have to admit it out loud.
‘He didn’t … he didn’t show.’
‘Didn’t show? You mean he was supposed to meet you here and he stood you up? On your last night?’
Colette nodded, hurt and shame consuming her all over again.
‘What a cock. These bloody Italians …’
‘I know,’ she cried. ‘I feel so stupid, believe me, for falling hook, line, and sinker for his nonsense that he cared about me and that I meant something to him. But it was all a lie, Ed. He didn’t care about me at all. He never did. How could I have been so stupid? I’m so stupid.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he did care,’ Ed soothed. ‘How he could he not? You’re amazing. But I suppose these guys … well, you know, so many tourists come here all the time and …’
‘I know.’ She turned away, not wanting to hear it.
Now he held her to him and gently stroked her hair. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘You deserve better, you know. So much better.’
‘I’m not so sure about that. It really is my own fault for being so naïve. But thanks for being so nice to me.’
She moved away from him now, a bit mortified by her behaviour. Nice and all that he was, Ed didn’t really know her that well. They’d never managed to meet up for that coffee, and while they’d communicated a bit, it wasn’t as though he was a real friend, like Kim and Annie or anything.
‘Let’s get you home,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll call a cab – you said your hotel was called Villa Dolce Vita?’
‘It’s not a hotel, but you’re with your friends,’ Colette protested.
‘Doesn’t matter. And we’re sort of sick of one another by now,’ he joked. ‘Honestly, I’d rather see you home safe and sound. And I really hate to see you upset. I can always drop you off and then pop back. Truly, they won’t even notice I’ve gone.’
‘If you’re sure …’ Colette just wanted to leave – to get away from this restaurant, this beach, and indeed Italy. And especially away from the memories of what she’d truly thought was a wonderful romance, but was in reality a complete lie, a sham.
She supposed, in a way, it was a good thing that tonight was her last. She’d had enough.
Colette was ready to go home.
Chapter 44
Now
Kim was practically bouncing off the walls as she waited for the council meeting to convene.
In the civic building, she sat outside and tapped her hand on her knee nervously.
‘Take it easy,’ Antonio comforted, as he laid his hand over hers and gripped her fingers.
Kim looked at him. She was so glad he was with her. If not for him she’d lose her patience and quite possibly her temper over this entire mess. She’d called numerous people up and down the coast, as had he, and every time she’d reached someone they’d told her there was nothing they could do to solve the problem of her licences.
Bureaucracy was a bitch, but Italian bureaucracy was a whole different ball game.
‘This is terrifying,’ she said softly. It was do or die. Villa Dolce Vita was due to open for reservations immediately after the official launch.
If the officials today didn’t agree to reinst
ate the permits then they would simply have to cancel the launch and uninvite all her important business and media contacts – most of whom were already set to arrive in Italy within days. Then they’d need to go through the long and arduous process and considerable hoop-jumping when reapplying. It could set the whole thing back another year, if not more. Kim simply could not let that happen.
‘We will work this out,’ Antonio was saying. ‘Whatever has happened we will remedy it.’
‘I’m not leaving here until we do,’ she said seriously.
‘That’s the Kim I know,’ Antonio replied, smiling. ‘You don’t give up until the job is done.’
‘You bet I don’t. This is my baby and I’m not about to let anyone take it from me,’ she replied with sustained fervour.
‘And what of things with your real baby – and Gabriel?’
Kim should’ve known that Antonio wouldn’t have forgotten their conversation from before. And she also knew he was likely using this as a clever diversion away from their current predicament.
She shook her head.
‘You haven’t spoken to him about it yet?’
‘With everything that’s been going on, I just haven’t had an opportunity – or the time to find one,’ she replied quickly. ‘Once the dust on this is settled I will turn my attentions to the personal. I promise.’
‘I hope you do, or there may be much worse on the horizon than the failure of this venture,’ Antonio cautioned.
Kim took his words to heart. In all of the years since she’d met him, her mentor’s advice had never failed to be accurate.
‘I will,’ she repeated sincerely.
‘Ms Weston? Mr Gerber?’ a female voice called. ‘Everyone is ready.’
Kim and Antonio got to their feet immediately. She looked at him for one fleeting moment before shifting her bag onto her shoulder, lifting her chin, and walking into the meeting that could potentially make or break her.
The Italian officials’ faces gave nothing away as they both entered the meeting room. They greeted Kim and Antonio cordially, before sitting down across from them at the table. Kim noticed the paperwork spread out over it and wished she could reach across and grab the offering documents that had landed them in such strife. But she needed to be patient. There was no rushing Italian bureaucracy – this she knew from experience.
However, Antonio was keen to waste no time. He spoke in rapid Italian, asking the officials to straight out explain the nature of the problem.
‘Ms Weston and I are completely confused as to why the permissions for Villa Dolce Vita have been revoked. We did everything you asked all throughout the process, complied with any necessary adjustments and amendments where required. As far as we were concerned, everything was agreed and authorised. What has changed?’
‘We did also,’ one of the officials replied. ‘But then we received the updated application.’
Kim looked at the older man, mystified. ‘What updated application?’ she asked.
‘An application for amendments to the licences,’ he said, picking up one of the documents on the table. ‘As such, any changes automatically rescind the previous grant and put the entire project back into the planning process.’
‘But we didn’t request any amendments …’ Kim insisted, looking at Antonio, who seemed equally puzzled.
‘Show me the new application,’ her partner requested, and the official duly handed him the document. Kim watched as he read through it quickly and slowly shook his head.
‘Yes, this is very definitely a mistake. An oversight from someone in the company – an office clerk, perhaps,’ he assured them. ‘Please ignore this request,’ he said. ‘There are no amendments planned to the project. This is most definitely. A clerical error, a misunderstanding.’
Kim let out an inward sigh of relief.
A misunderstanding … Thank goodness.
The two officials looked at each other.
‘Please,’ she insisted, her heart rushing into her mouth once again. Surely these guys couldn’t insist on holding them to a mistake. These things happened all the time. ‘Everything remains as it stands. The project is complete and due to open for business within days. We would not and do not require any material changes at this point.’
She noticed one of the officials give the other an almost imperceptible nod and her pulse began to race in anticipation of what they would say.
‘OK, yes. We appreciate that mistakes happen, though in order to reinstate the previous approvals we would need an assurance in writing—’
‘Absolutely I’ll arrange to do that right away,’ she promised them, letting out the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding.
It was just a mistake. Thank God, thank God …
She had no idea who in the office would request amendments to the licences at this late stage, though she guessed it must be as Antonio suggested, a clerical error of some kind. She’d find out – eventually. The important thing was that they were out of the woods.
As Antonio echoed her assurances to follow up in writing, and exchanged further pleasantries with the officials, Kim noticed him squirrel away the offending documents into his briefcase and made a mental note to examine them herself afterwards.
But she couldn’t deny her elation and sheer relief that it had in fact all been settled. After weeks of being taken for a ride every which way, finally she’d got some satisfaction.
Thank goodness.
Afterwards, when Antonio dropped her off at the Excelsior and she made her way out to where Lily and Gabriel waited for her by the pool, she resisted the urge to skip through the lobby.
Everything was once again go.
All Kim needed now was to try and figure out who was behind the plagiarism threat and make it go away.
Then life would be sweet once more.
Chapter 45
Now
Annie locked up the salon for the day, half wondering if it might be for the very last time. She was out of options.
Almost.
There was that one last roll of the dice, but she knew it was a long shot and one that she truly wouldn’t have even considered if not for the fact that she was absolutely desperate.
Getting into the car, she checked her phone again for a reply to the message she’d sent earlier, before throwing it onto the driver’s seat.
A few minutes later, she pulled into her friend Gemma’s driveway, glancing at her phone screen once again under the pretence of checking the time.
She was much later than usual again today, and she felt guilty that the stress and strain of all this was affecting her life in more ways than one.
‘Mum!’
Annie’s heart instinctively lifted as her little boy rushed out of the childminder’s house to greet her.
Charlie was always so happy to see her, and no matter how shitty she was feeling, his happy grin never failed to bring a smile to her face. He was full of chatter, having learned some new football move from Gemma’s son Callum, who was a few years older.
‘It’s called the seal dribble,’ he chattered animatedly in the driveway while Gemma waved at Annie from her front doorway. ‘You do it like this.’
Annie watched as he took his scuff-covered football and began to bounce it on his head repeatedly.
‘You see? You keep bouncing it like this while you run to the goal. I’m still trying to get it that I can keep an eye on target while I do it.’
‘That’s brilliant, love,’ Annie enthused as she ruffled his hair. She looked apologetically at Gemma. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m late again. There was a last-minute emergency at the salon and—’
‘It’s fine, sure he’s no bother. And I hope you don’t mind but Nick already told me something was going on.’
Nick’s sister was a very understanding friend, but Annie never wanted to take the piss. Gemma had been an absolute godsend to her the last few years, taking care of Charlie while she was off working like a demon, trying to get the business u
p and running.
But with everything that was going on now, Annie worried if she’d even be able to afford her anymore.
Luckily he’d started school last year, which meant that she really only needed a childminder in the afternoons, these days, but who knew how things could change in the future?
At this point, Annie wasn’t sure how she was going to get through even this month with the amount of money owed to suppliers and the staff and business overheads to pay.
She wasn’t going to let those worries show, she resolved, as she chatted with Gemma for a bit before bundling Charlie into the car. She wasn’t going to allow him to suffer because of her concerns about them, either.
When they reached home, Annie stared at the lovely house that had been theirs for the last two years. She’d never felt so proud as she did when #GlamSquad was doing well enough that she’d been able to get a mortgage on a place of their own.
She’d never really lived in a proper house before, not since she was a child at the O’Dohertys’, and when Charlie was a baby she’d been restricted to the poky flats offered to single mothers on welfare.
But through her hard work and efforts with the salon, she’d managed to get them out of social housing and into a place with a proper garden where her son could run around and play, where he could have his own room and she’d have a real kitchen – not a few inches separated from the living room by a foot of table.
She and Charlie had that now, but for how much longer?
‘Mum, what’s for dinner?’ he asked as he got out, tucked his football under his arm, and slammed the car door. No matter how many times she told him not to, he always did it.
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to see what’s in the fridge.’
‘But it’s Friday! Maybe a takeaway?’ he suggested with a grin that always had the power to melt her heart. ‘Pizza?’
His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
Usually, Annie would have insisted they ate a proper nutritious meal prepared from scratch by her, but she wasn’t sure how many more chances they’d have to order in.