by T A Williams
Emma laughed out loud and the release of pent-up tension felt good. ‘He’s a hoot, all right, but there’s no doubt he’s one of the best in the business. After all, they say the dividing line between genius and madness is a very fine one. I remember reading that back in the Forties, Howard Hughes locked himself in his screening room for four whole months, living off nothing but milk and chocolate bars and peeing into bottles. Erasmus is a little weird, but not that weird, and he’s very good at his job.’
Just then the glass doors hissed open and Mark appeared. If Emma had had any doubts about the depth of feeling building up inside her, the involuntary warm glow his arrival spread throughout her body provided all the proof she needed.
‘What’s the joke?’ He walked across to them.
Emma and Rich gave him a brief thumbnail sketch of Erasmus and he shook his head in disbelief. ‘This I’ve got to see.’
Together, they walked back into the orangery where Ethan was already on his second beer. Sinclair, on the other hand, was still nursing his first bottle.
‘Hey, Mark, how’s it hanging?’ Ethan sounded in good spirits.
‘I’m fine thanks. Apart from being pushed into the pool by my dog.’ Naturally he then had to recount what had happened and they all had a good laugh at his expense.
Ethan was sitting alongside Emma, while Mark had opted for an armchair nearby. She was secretly relieved, fearing that she might find herself squeezed between two men, one of whom she fancied, and one who allegedly fancied her. That could have been complicated. The conversation flowed and any fears she might have harboured that Ethan was about to get a bit more familiar were soon allayed. He kept a discreet distance and behaved impeccably. She began to relax, starting to believe that maybe his query in the car about her love life had just been nothing more than curiosity.
* * *
Dinner, as promised by Mark, was excellent and it was also hilarious. They took their places in the dining room and there was an immediate hiccup, before they’d even sat down, when Katya took Emma to one side to whisper sternly in her ear.
‘We have a problem, Emma. The napkins are green.’
In fact, the napkins were white with just a narrow green border, but Emma remembered what Ethan had said about Erasmus never wearing green. Without batting an eyelid, Emma immediately took the matter in hand.
‘Of course, leave it to me, Katya.’
She went over to where Claudio and his staff were hovering and outlined the problem. He went up considerably in her estimation as he managed to keep a perfectly straight face, while issuing orders for the offending napkins to be replaced by plain white ones. Emma gave him a little wink, returned to the others, and invited them to be seated at the large round table in the centre of the room. She decided to put Erasmus on one side of her with Ethan on the other. The others then settled down so that Mark was alongside Katya – Emma had whispered a warning to him to be wary of her handshake – with Marina, Rich and Sinclair completing the circle.
It soon transpired that Erasmus’s dislike of dead things didn’t extend to food and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Although Claudio had assured her that they had a vegan plan B up their sleeves, it was going to make life much easier for everybody if they all could all eat the same thing. What she hadn’t bargained for was his preference to start the meal with a short bout of meditation. As they all sat silently, trying to avoid looking at him as he clasped his palms together and muttered to himself, Emma found herself hoping that this meditation would not spark off any bodily functions. She hastily identified the location of the door marked Servizi to one side of the room, just in case.
During the meal they chatted and Emma was delighted to find Erasmus, once he had completed his meditation, actually joining in almost like a normal human being, and she heaved a silent sigh of relief. As Ethan had warned her, he ate the whole meal with a spoon and his fingers, and his white napkin was soon far from pristine. One unexpected discovery came when Katya changed during the course of the meal from cold and impassive to positively jovial. The reason for this can’t have been alcohol, as there was only water in her glass. Instead, it appeared to be the fact that in Mark she had found somebody who spoke her native language remarkably fluently. As the two of them chatted animatedly in what might have been Polish or Czech – Emma had no idea really – she had to come to terms with the fact that there was a lot she still didn’t know about this man. Somehow this mystery rendered him even more appealing – if such a thing was even possible.
At the end of the meal, they all separated and Emma invented a headache in order to disappear up to her room to get some work done and avoid any kind of embarrassing confrontation with a potentially amorous Ethan. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the expression on Mark’s face. It was definitely one of concern for her well-being and she shot him a reassuring little smile. Whether this concern was just out of simple friendship or a sign of something deeper was a question that occupied her for much of the rest of the night, but without any kind of answer.
Chapter 15
Next morning dawned bright and sunny, the sky once more a clear cloudless blue. As she was just debating what to do, her phone beeped. It was a message from Mark.
Feeling better? Coming for a run? M
Using the excuse of the aftermath of last night’s fictitious headache, she declined the invitation, but suggested he might like to take the others out for a jog around the estate. She then checked her emails and found the one she had been waiting for. It was from Dexter, informing her that Laney and her minder would be arriving at Perugia in a private jet at eleven o’clock that morning. He didn’t ask how things were going, but when she replied to confirm they would be at the airport to greet her, she added a couple of lines.
Ethan’s already here and Erasmus arrived unexpectedly last night. After a tricky start (he is a little quirky), all went well and he seems genuinely pleased with what we’ve managed to find so far. All good with Richard. All well with Sweet Memories?
By the time she returned from the shower with a towel wrapped around her, there was a reply already waiting. She checked her watch. It was almost eight o’clock. That meant it was one o’clock in the morning in LA. Did he ever sleep? She laughed out loud when she read what he had written.
A little quirky?? You really like understatements, don’t you? Erasmus is looking at quirky in the rear-view mirror. I’ve got a poodle that’s saner than he is. But the fact is that he’s the best in the business so humour him. Capeesh? Dex. PS. Sweet Memories all good.
She was impressed that he had resorted to an Italian conclusion, even if the spelling was American. She was also moderately surprised that he had a pet and she was delighted all appeared to be going well with the new film. In response she sent him just one word.
Capito.
As she pressed ‘Send’, there was a tap at the door. Tugging the towel more tightly around her, rather wishing it were a bit longer, she went over to see who it was. She opened the door to find Ethan standing there in his running kit, sweat dripping from his brow.
‘Hi, English, I came to see how you’re doing.’ She saw his eyes flick down across the towel before returning to her bare shoulders again. She struggled hard to avoid blushing under his scrutiny.
‘Hi, Ethan, I’m fine now, thanks. I think I was just a bit tired last night.’
‘Working too hard again. You gotta learn to relax.’ He grinned at her. ‘Why not take up meditation like Erasmus?’ He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘When we were out running with Mark, we found Erasmus on his knees under a tree, like he was in a trance. He didn’t open his eyes as we went past, not even when Mark’s dog went over and stuck its nose up his butt.’
Emma giggled at the thought. ‘Well, I hope you enjoyed your run and he enjoyed whatever he was doing.’
‘So, what’s the deal today? When’s Laney getting here?’ That same apprehensive expression was back in his eyes.
/> ‘We’re picking her up from the airport at eleven. Why don’t you come with us? That way you can sit in the back alongside her and try to make a bit of small talk.’
‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ He was still sounding very uncertain.
‘Definitely. And Sinclair can sit in the back row with her minder.’
Ethan’s expression lightened. ‘Have you met her minder?’ Emma shook her head. ‘Her name’s Marylou and she looks and sounds like a younger Dolly Parton, but Sinc tells me she used to be a pro wrestler. She’s a real tough cookie.’
Emma smiled at the thought. It promised to be an even more bizarre weekend than she had expected. ‘Well, the more the merrier. So are you coming with us?’
‘If you’re going to be there, I’ll come. I’d go anywhere with you.’ For a moment it looked as though he might be about give the conversation a more intimate turn, so she was quick to take evasive action.
‘Great. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of an email to Dexter and I’ve got to get dressed. See you downstairs for breakfast?’
As he nodded hesitantly, she gave him a big smile and closed the door, reflecting, yet again, that the queue of women who would give their eye teeth to take her place, wrapped only in a towel in the presence of Ethan Dukes, would no doubt span the equator.
* * *
Breakfast was an amazing spread including everything from fresh fruit salad to pickled herring and from homemade cake to bacon and egg. As Emma walked in, she was pleased to see Marina and Rich already there and, alongside them, Mark, freshly showered after his run, his hair still damp. He looked fit, healthy and very, very desirable. Now, she reflected, if he had appeared at her door in place of Ethan, there would have been a very real chance of her towel falling off. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to greet them.
‘Morning, team, how are we?’
‘More importantly, how are you, boss?’ Mark’s concern for her well-being would have been more touching if he had omitted the final word.
Emma gave them all a smile. ‘I’m fine, thanks. I think I was just a bit tired last night. You guys been for a run?’
Marina shook her head. ‘They did, I didn’t. So, what’s the plan for today? Have you got an arrival time for Laney Travers?’
Emma outlined what she and Ethan had decided and Marina nodded, before making a suggestion. ‘Assisi and Perugia are both stunning and they’re barely a handful of kilometres from the airport. Should we take them there on the way back, maybe?’
Just at that moment, Ethan and Sinclair arrived – Ethan in shorts and T-shirt, Sinclair in a dark suit as always. Ethan came in at the end of Marina’s suggestion and shook his head.
‘Laney won’t go for it. She was telling me how frustrating she found it in London, being followed everywhere by the paparazzi. She’ll want to hole up here and keep her head down.’ He caught Emma’s eye. ‘To be honest, I feel pretty much the same way.’
She nodded in response. ‘Fine, we’ll just make it a straight airport transfer. I remember reading that she plays tennis. Maybe we could all have a game this afternoon.’
When they set off to collect Laney and her ex-wrestler minder Marylou, Mark and Rich were left at the villa with strict instructions to keep an eye on Erasmus. Rich was clearly disappointed not to be with Marina, and Emma could see that their relationship was advancing steadily – a hell of a lot faster than any relationship she might have hoped to have with Mark. Ignoring her own frustrations, she gave him an encouraging smile.
‘We’ll be back in an hour or so. Just make sure Erasmus doesn’t go walkabout or start operating heavy machinery.’
* * *
Laney Travers arrived just after eleven and they saw her come down the steps of the private jet with a face like thunder. As this was an internal flight and a private plane, Marina had been able to drive right onto the tarmac. Apart from two men in reflective jackets, there was nobody else around so at least Laney was able to get from the aircraft to the car without being recognised. As she ushered the megastar into the rear seat alongside Ethan, Emma made the introductions but got nothing back. Marylou, the minder, hefted the two large suitcases into the boot as if they weighed nothing and then took her place alongside Sinclair behind them, while Emma slid into the front passenger seat and listened carefully, her fingers firmly crossed. It took several minutes before she heard Ethan’s voice, sounding decidedly tentative.
‘So, Laney, good trip?’
‘No.’
A further pause ensued and Emma was about to wade in to see if she could help Ethan’s cause when Marylou from the back of the vehicle added an explanation. Not only did she look like Dolly Parton on steroids, she sounded just like her too.
‘Laney got mobbed at Milan. Somebody must have got wind of her departure time and the airport was crawling with fans, paparazzi, and God knows who else. Even the police were taking photos.’
‘Oh, Christ, Laney, that’s terrible. I just hate it when that happens.’ Ethan sounded genuinely sorry for her and maybe it was this that finally broke the ice. A few seconds later, Emma heard Laney start to speak.
‘You know something, Ethan? I was scared. Genuinely scared that something was going to happen. You should have seen the way they were pushing and crowding round.’
‘Tell me about it. It frightens the crap out of me too sometimes. They just don’t get it. We’re people, just like them, but when a crowd gets excited, it’s like a bunch of wild animals.’
The conversation continued in a similar vein for several more minutes before gradually becoming lighter and turning to more pleasant matters. Ethan gave her a glowing description of the villa and by the time they got back, the atmosphere in the car had thawed considerably. Emma gave a surreptitious sigh of relief. So far, so good.
As they accompanied Laney up the steps to the terrace, Rich and Mark appeared at the door. As Laney caught sight of them, the troubled expression on her face morphed into something much brighter. Emma watched as the movie star walked across to the two men and held out her hand, a real smile appearing on her face. Emma was just wondering if she maybe already knew Rich, via his father, when the actress’s hand reached for and caught hold of the hand of Mark, not Rich.
‘Hi, I’m Laney. It’s good to meet you.’
‘Hi, Laney. I’m Mark, and this is Rich.’ He was looking vaguely puzzled and a bit overcome.
From the expression on Laney’s face, it was clear which of the two men interested her, so Emma hurried across to make sure she knew just whose hand she was shaking – and maybe to wrestle her away from Mark.
‘Richard is JM’s son from JMGP.’ This elicited a bit more interest and a smile aimed at Rich.
Ethan made his way over and joined in the conversation. ‘And Mark owns this place.’
Laney’s eyes lit up. ‘Wow, you lucky man, Mark. It’s delightful.’ By now Laney had moved on from gracious diva mode to flirty diva mode, and she even reached over and patted him on the arm. ‘I look forward to getting to know your beautiful house, and you, a lot better.’
Emma could feel a rising sense of what could only be explained as jealousy and she fought hard to dominate it. Fortunately at that moment Erasmus appeared, trailed, as ever, by Katya who was wearing a purple caftan and oriental headdress. Erasmus looked as if he was wearing the exact same clothes as last night: a crumpled Hawaiian shirt, the breast pockets bulging with all manner of junk, and the scruffiest pair of jeans Emma had ever seen outside of a rodeo. On his feet, as a nod to the sunny weather, he was wearing sandals today, rather than last night’s battered deck shoes, and it looked suspiciously as though his big toenails had been painted bright orange.
‘Laney, my dear, how wonderful to see you and how outstandingly beautiful you look, as always. A delight for the eyes.’
‘Erasmus, darling, long time no see. I’m so, so excited to be working with you once more. I can’t imagine anyone better.’ Abandoning Mark, Laney walked across and air-kissed him
noisily. He beamed back at her.
‘The pleasure will be all mine. It’s a real privilege to work with the very best.’
Emma and Mark exchanged glances. He was looking askance, but Emma knew that this was tame by Hollywood standards. She knew lots of people for whom these effusive compliments would have been just run of the mill. She gave him a little smile and winked. He winked back and her feeling of jealousy subsided. A bit.
Lunch was taken outside on the terrace, shaded from the sun by a wide awning. There was a gentle breeze blowing and the temperature was delightful. As they were outside, Mark had brought Carmen, who stationed herself under the table between Emma and Mark, her nostrils flaring as each successive course was produced. The chef had prepared a magnificent cold spread ranging from a vast assortment of ham and salami to halves of lobster, filets of salmon and spicy prawns. There were no fewer than five different salads, made up of a dazzling variety of plants and herbs, vegetables and fruits and tiny little edible flowers.
Emma kept a close eye on Laney, having deliberately seated her between Erasmus and Ethan, as far away from Mark as possible. The actress just picked at her food and refused anything but water to drink. Ethan, on the other hand, dug in and filled his plate, but there was no contest as to who managed to eat the most: Marylou won hands down, by a knockout and two submissions, packing away enough food to satisfy a rugby team.
Emma was pleased to see Ethan and Laney chatting and as the day progressed, she distinctly got the impression that they were getting on just fine.
Later that afternoon, as the shadows began to lengthen and after Erasmus had retired to his room with Katya for another bout of meditation, the others met down at the tennis court for a game. Laney immediately chose Mark as her partner, which meant that Ethan was left with Emma. Laney turned up dressed in a stretchy top that could have been sprayed on and short shorts that left very little to the imagination.