by T A Williams
‘It’s Laney…’
‘Laney Travers? What about her?’
‘I don’t think she likes me.’ He sounded like a little boy and Emma pursed her lips to keep a laugh from escaping. It was hard to remember that she was talking to a hunky Hollywood star.
‘What makes you say that? Have you seen her?’
‘Yes, she’s over here in London, just finishing filming a romcom – something to do with the royal family, I think she said.’
‘You’re in London now?’
‘Yeah, I flew over yesterday to have a chat with her about working together. You know, break the ice sort of thing…’
‘And she told you she doesn’t like you?’
‘No… not in so many words, but it was pretty clear.’
Emma’s mind was racing. If the off-screen chemistry between these two titans wasn’t perfect, Dreaming of Italy could be heading for disaster before filming even started. She wondered if he had talked this over with anybody else. Did JM know?
‘How clear, Ethan? Tell me what happened.’
She sat down on the low stone wall of a flower bed filled with sweet-scented little pink flowers and listened intently as he told her about the dinner he and Laney had had together the previous night. Apparently Laney hadn’t said very much and had appeared bored and disinterested. And, the final nail in the coffin, at the end of the evening she hadn’t kissed him goodbye. This worried Emma, so she thought she had better check exactly what he was talking about.
‘When you say “kiss”, you didn’t try to snog her, did you?’
‘Oh, Jesus, no. I mean just a peck on the cheek… or not even that. She just…’ She heard him hesitate before spitting out the ultimate insult. ‘…she just shook my hand.’
This sounded serious and definitely way above her pay grade. She racked her brains as to what to do. To give herself time to think, she tried to make more neutral conversation.
‘So, how long are you staying in London?’
‘I was thinking of staying, like, a few days, maybe a week, but now…’
She had never heard him so down, so she tried to think of something to cheer him up. Suddenly, mercifully, it came to her.
‘Why don’t you come over here to Italy for a day or two and we can talk about it? I can show you some of the gorgeous locations we’ve found for Dreaming of Italy! What do you say?’
‘Italy… well, I love the food, and I have to go to Naples for an award ceremony. That’s on Thursday, I think.’ She heard him call out to Sinclair, his personal assistant and constant companion. ‘Naples is Thursday, isn’t it, Sinc?’ The reply was affirmative. ‘Yeah, English, it’s Thursday.’
This was a good start, so Emma went in for the kill. ‘Well, tomorrow or Wednesday we’re going to be in a place where I’ve heard that the food’s the best in Italy.’ In fact she hadn’t heard anything of the sort, but she knew how much he liked his food.
‘Is that right?’
She could hear definite interest in his voice now, so she reeled him in.
‘We’re going to be staying close by what’s reckoned to be the best restaurant in Italy.’
This, too, was pure invention, but she knew she needed to paint as rosy a picture as possible. Besides, going by her track record so far, surely Marina would be able to arrange it.
‘I can’t make it tomorrow, but I might be able to come over on Wednesday, before going on to Naples. Where’s this restaurant?’
Bugger, Emma thought to herself, where had Marina said they were going? The Cinque Terre, that was it, but that was tomorrow. After that it was going to be…? It came to her at the last moment.
‘Tuscany.’ A hazy image of a map of Italy appeared before her eyes and she took a stab. ‘I don’t know the name of the place, but it’s near Pisa. You know… the Leaning Tower of Pisa and all that?’
‘I’ve always wanted to see that. Yeah, why not? I’ll come and join you for a day on Wednesday. Thanks, English. I look forward to it.’
He sounded a bit brighter and Emma breathed a tiny sigh of relief. ‘So what are you going to be doing tomorrow? Trying to get together with Laney again?’
His answer was reassuring. ‘No, I’m on my way to the airport right now. I’m flying up to Scotland for a family wedding, so I won’t see Laney for a while.’
As far as Emma was concerned, the later the better so she could have time to relay this information up the line and somebody could decide what to do to resolve it.
‘Well, you get yourself a flight into Pisa on Wednesday and we’ll pick you up. All right? Text me when you’ve got your arrival time.’
‘I can come any time to suit you guys. I’ll use a Learjet.’
For a moment there, Emma had forgotten she wasn’t speaking to a normal mortal who relied upon public transport. Of course he would just rent an aircraft. ‘How about mid- to late-afternoon? That’ll give us time to show you the Leaning Tower and then we can head off to the restaurant.’
As soon as he had rung off, she dived into her purse and located the card with Dexter’s phone number. She called him immediately, even though it was no doubt a busy Monday morning over there in California. Somehow she didn’t think he would mind. He answered straight away.
‘Yes.’ His voice was non-committal. Clearly, he didn’t recognise her number. She was quick to tell him.
‘Hi, Dexter, it’s me, Emma, calling from Italy.’
‘Hi, Emma. Trouble with Richard?’ She could hear immediate concern in his voice.
‘No, Rich is fine. In fact, he’s doing really well. No, it’s Ethan. He’s just called me.’
She went on to relay the conversation she had just had and what she had suggested as a temporary solution. When he responded, she was delighted to hear approval, maybe even admiration in his voice.
‘Terrific, Emma, that’s a great idea. Get him out of her way and over to Italy.’ There was a slight pause for thought before he resumed. ‘Right, so that gives us almost forty-eight hours to sort out what we’re going to do. Leave it with me and I’ll take it straight to JM. And thanks a lot, Emma. Full marks for thinking on your feet.’
She hurried back into the hotel and found Marina sitting on the terrace with Mark. Rich had presumably gone up to his room. She sat down to talk it through but, first, she reminded them of their responsibilities.
‘I’ve got something to tell you, but it’s really confidential. I want you to promise not to breathe a word of it to anybody else. All right?’
They both nodded and Mark added some extra reassurance. ‘We’ve both signed non-disclosure agreements so you don’t need to worry.’ Seeing her expression, he explained. ‘Didn’t you know? Before taking us on, a guy called Dexter made Gianluca sign an NDA and we, in turn, had to do the same for him. So we won’t tell.’
Emma smiled back, greatly relieved. ‘That’s great. Thanks.’ Yes, Dexter really did think of everything. ‘Well, look, it’s about Ethan Dukes…’
By the time she had finished, she could see that they were impressed – not necessarily by her ability to think on her feet as by the prospect of meeting a Hollywood legend. Marina, in particular, was looking positively star-struck.
‘So you want me to find a hotel near Pisa for us four plus just about the biggest film star on the planet? Will he be travelling on his own or will he have an entourage of minders and bodyguards?’
‘I’m not sure. He’ll definitely be with his minder, Sinclair, but I’ll try to find out if there’s anyone else travelling with him. Probably best to work on the assumption of at least one extra person, maybe two. Remember, above all, make sure you find somewhere very discreet. And what about the restaurant?’
Marina gave her a reassuring smile. ‘That won’t be a problem. Tuscany’s full of wonderful restaurants. I’ll tell Gianluca and he’ll find somewhere good. Don’t worry, we’ll blow Ethan’s mind as far as the food’s concerned.’
‘And the hotel?’
‘We’ll find somewhere. W
ould I be right in thinking that cost isn’t a factor?’
Emma nodded decisively. ‘Forget the cost. Just find somewhere really good.’
Chapter 8
They checked into a hotel on the hill overlooking the sea in Rapallo just before lunchtime on Tuesday. This was a fairly large seaside resort not far from the iconic jet-set hangout of Portofino which Marina and Emma had already discounted as too well known. After an unexpectedly good snack lunch at the station buffet, they caught a local train along the coast. The rugged coastline of the Cinque Terre was gorgeous and they snatched tantalising glimpses of it as the train ran in and out of the countless tunnels as it twisted and turned hugging the seashore.
Monterosso was a charming little village built right by the sea, its narrow streets curling steeply up the valley into the hills behind it. The railway itself barely emerged from a tunnel before the station and then disappeared into another tunnel through yet another rocky headland straight afterwards. The little town, with its pink, yellow and orange houses with their green shutters was picturesque and atmospheric but the problem was that it was jam-packed with people. It was immediately evident that to try to take the place over with a film crew, possibly for several days, was going to be next to impossible; even assuming the inevitable convoy of vans and trucks containing all the equipment could make it down there on the narrow mountain roads in the first place.
Regretfully, Emma had to scrub Monterosso from the ‘possibles’ list.
However, what they did next was much more promising. Marina had organised for them to take a boat trip along the coast and Emma immediately recognised an opportunity. As they sat on the deck of the little ferry, she explained.
‘We could incorporate a boat trip in the movie, maybe get Emily onto the yacht with Robert. That would be pretty romantic, wouldn’t it? She and he are getting ever closer now and a scene on board the yacht, looking back at the coastline here would be great, I’m sure. The coast here surely looks exactly the same as it did a hundred years ago, apart from the occasional modern bridge or building high up on the hillside.’
The green hills, covered with a mix of bushes, scrub and pine trees, sloped steeply down to the sea with barely any sign of human activity. Deserted coves and beaches dotted the coastline and the only people visible were walkers on the tortuous coastal footpath that linked the little communities. It would be easy enough to get permission to close that off for an hour or two while shooting or, Emma thought to herself, if the film crew came past in a boat very early in the morning they could probably get more than enough footage even without stopping the walkers. She knew full well that the editors back in Hollywood would easily be able to blank out any odd people in modern dress. So a coastal sequence went onto the list and she asked Rich to shoot two minutes of video to support it.
The boat trip took less than an hour and dropped them at the little town of Riomaggiore, from where they would take the train back to their hotel later on. It had been a very scenic trip and a very hot afternoon. Most of the men on the boat had stripped to their shorts, but, to Emma’s inexplicable frustration, Mark stubbornly kept his T-shirt on. The sense of attraction she felt for him was showing no signs of diminishing as the days went by – in fact, the opposite seemed to be happening. Although he hadn’t shown even the slightest hint of attraction towards her, the same couldn’t be said about her.
In spite of her best intentions, in spite of her reluctance to shack up with any man, she was finding herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame and this was causing her no end of exasperating self-analysis. Suddenly, here she was, prey to emotions she genuinely had thought completely missing from her make-up. Instead, it was now patently clear that this was not the case at all. After years of total conviction that she was a sensible, dedicated career woman, intent upon rising up to a position of importance in a multi-million-dollar corporation, she now found herself as confused as a lovelorn teenager. It was as frustrating as it was inexplicable.
The only consolation was the lack of spots on her face.
Marina also stripped off to reveal the top half of a fairly minimal bikini and Emma saw undeniable interest on Rich’s face. He was looking even more relaxed today and he had a bit more colour in his face. On their inaugural run this morning he had proved to be well able to keep up with Mark, although she had had the suspicion that Mark might have been throttling back for her sake. Unfortunately, Emma hadn’t thought ahead and had left her bikini in her suitcase so she had to sit alongside Mark, both of them covered up and, at least in her case, feeling decidedly clammy.
Back on shore, they were sitting under a parasol outside a little gelateria eating ice cream when Emma’s phone rang. It was Dexter.
‘Hi, Emma. Listen, I’ve talked it through with JM. By the way, he sends his best wishes and says thanks. Anyway, the plan of action is like this.’
He went on to tell her that he had already spoken to Laney in London and had arranged that they would fly her over to Italy at the weekend for a briefing and an introduction to the locations for the movie. The film director, Erasmus Delgado was in Europe and would also be jetting in from wherever he had been. Ethan would of course be invited as well and it would then be up to Erasmus to ‘bang their heads together’. It was down to Emma and her team to find a suitably ‘secure and discreet’ hotel where the presence of these three well-known faces together would not leak out.
Emma heaved an internal sigh. Easier said than done.
Dexter then went on to make it clear that it would also be greatly appreciated if Emma could lend a hand in greasing the wheels of the superstars’ relationship.
By the time he rang off, Emma was even hotter and more bothered than she had been on the boat. But this time the sun had nothing to do with it. Things were getting complicated, fast. She took a deep breath and broke the news to the others.
‘So, guys, it’s like this. Tomorrow, we’ve got Ethan pitching up for a quick look at the Leaning Tower and then the best dinner he’s ever had.’ She caught Marina’s eye and managed a grin. ‘No pressure there, Marina. Then he’s apparently heading off to Naples for some award ceremony or other but coming back up to join us for the weekend, as are Laney Travers and Erasmus Delgado, the film’s director.’
She glanced around at their faces. Even Rich looked shell-shocked. She did her best to sound encouraging.
‘Hopefully Laney and Ethan’ll be able to settle their differences and it’ll be all systems go for the movie.’ She read considerable scepticism on the faces opposite her, but she kept going. ‘First, we need to find a suitable hotel. According to our schedule, where are we going to be by the weekend, Marina?’
Marina nodded and consulted her phone. ‘Today’s Tuesday and we’re here on the coast. Tomorrow it’s Pisa, Ethan Dukes, the Leaning Tower and the big meal. I know you said to leave out famous cities, but we have no option, seeing as you mentioned Pisa to him. How does the next leg of our journey tie into the plot – what happens next for Emily?’
‘She’s finally given in and admitted to herself that she’s attracted to Robert, even though she still mistrusts men and hates living in a man’s world. However, Mrs MacDonald, the governess, doesn’t want her getting involved with any man. She bundles Emily up and they head away from the coast and on down into Tuscany. Seeing as we’re committed to going to Pisa with Ethan, we might be able to include at least a cameo of the Leaning Tower, but I think we’d better avoid Florence at all costs. It’s just going to be impossibly crowded there. What do you think, Marina?’
‘I’m sure it would be.’ Marina was checking her phone. ‘So Wednesday’s Pisa and we can use Thursday to see a few fine historic places around Florence, but not the city itself, and we can spend Thursday night somewhere in rural Tuscany. Then on Friday we head via Siena over the hills into Umbria. I’d been planning on finding a comfortable hotel with a pool for the weekend somewhere out in the country for a bit of relaxation. Now that I know we’ve got all these famous people coming t
o join us I’ll have to add top secret and private to the specification. Then next Monday we travel north from there to Bologna and onwards to Venice.’ She looked up from the screen. ‘How does that sound?’
Emma gave her a big smile. ‘That all sounds great. The problem, as you say, is that we need somewhere in Umbria for the weekend that’s comfortable, luxurious but above all very, very secluded and discreet. If the media get a sniff of Ethan, Laney and Erasmus holed up together, we’ll find ourselves with paparazzi crawling all over us.’
Marina nodded slowly, returning her attention to her phone. ‘Well, the good news is that for tomorrow Gianluca’s found us a little place near Pisa which should be fine. It’s a boutique hotel with only eight rooms and he’s been able to persuade the owner to give us the whole place, so Ethan Dukes’s presence should be safeguarded – as long as he doesn’t get recognised at the Leaning Tower. I suppose we could curl back round on Friday and go there again, as long as the hotel isn’t already booked up. It’d be a few hours’ detour, but it could be feasible.’
Rich was nodding approvingly. ‘I like that idea of taking over a place just for ourselves. That’s surely the best way to keep everything under wraps. Marina, could your boss find us somewhere similar in Umbria, maybe?’ He glanced across at Mark. ‘Umbria’s where you live, isn’t it, Mark? Can you think of anywhere that might be suitable?’
All eyes turned to Mark, who was looking contemplative and didn’t respond for a few long seconds. Emma was about to prompt him when he suddenly appeared to come to a decision. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. After scrolling through his photos, he found what he wanted and handed it across to her.
‘Might this sort of place be suitable?’
Emma took the phone from him and squinted at the screen. It was a photo of a stunning old villa, almost like a castle, nestled among cypress trees, partway up a wooded hillside. It was big, redolent with history, and it was gorgeous. She passed the phone round the table and looked across at Mark.