Dreaming of Italy: A stunning and heartwarming holiday romance

by T A Williams

  As it turned out, the two sides were pretty evenly matched. Laney was very polished, but lacked power in her shots. It was clear that Mark was a stylish player, but it was also clear that he was a bit rusty. Ethan made up for a lack of technique by hitting the ball so hard, he almost dented the surface of the court. Unfortunately, this same power made him less consistent and his serves more often than not ended up in the net, threatening to tear holes in it. It was a close-run thing, but Emma and Ethan just managed to win the set by a single game. Ethan’s reaction was predictably boisterous. As her winning serve went in, he ran across and grabbed her, lifting her bodily into the air and whirling her round like a rag doll. As he set her down again, he deposited a smacking kiss on her cheek and raised her arm in the air like a victorious boxer.

  ‘That’s my girl, English. You were dynamite.’

  She rearranged her clothing and gave him a smile in return. ‘Could have gone either way. A very close game.’

  As she was speaking, she saw Laney, not to be outdone, turn to Mark and kiss him on the cheek as well, suspiciously close to his mouth. Emma had to struggle to keep the smile on her face as she and Ethan walked over to the net for them all to shake hands. As always, a simple touch of Mark’s hand was enough to send a little tremor through her body. She swallowed hard.

  ‘I don’t know about you guys, but I need a shower and a cold drink.’

  Mark nodded in agreement. ‘If you’re all willing, I’ve asked the chef to prepare some canapés, and we’d like to offer you all a few glasses of champagne later on to celebrate the fact that our first guests are such world-famous names. Would that be okay with you?’

  Ethan had no hesitation. ‘Sounds great to me, Mark.’

  Laney went a step further, grabbing Mark and pulling him towards her so she could stick another smacker of a kiss on his cheek. ‘What a lovely thought. I’d be delighted.’ She glanced across at Emma. ‘But you’re quite right, first things first – I need to change.’

  Chapter 16

  Emma was ready on the terrace at seven o’clock. Marina and Rich were already there, as was Marylou, strategically positioned alongside the canapés. Emma had struggled to decide which dress to wear, torn between the realisation that it was lunacy to try to compete with the most famous and beautiful actress in the world, and the desire to look so good for Mark that he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her. Short of going topless, she knew that would be an impossibility, but she did her best to look good all the same, putting her hair up, wearing her new shoes, and choosing her smartest and, purely by chance, or so she told herself, her most revealing dress.

  When Laney came down onto the terrace, Emma immediately realised that there was a broad gulf between what she considered revealing and what Laney considered revealing. The broad gulf in question was Laney’s cleavage that extended right down to the film star’s navel. Doing her best to rise above any petty feelings of jealousy – and the sudden overwhelming urge to scratch the actress’s eyes out – Emma went over to meet her.

  ‘Laney, you look gorgeous. What a lovely dress.’ Not that there was much of it.

  ‘Why, thank you, Emma. And that’s a sweet dress you’re wearing.’

  Sweet? Emma’s smile never weakened, but she knew her face muscles were going to hurt in the morning. ‘Thank you, Laney. Now do come and have a glass of champagne.’

  The actress accepted a glass of the hotel’s very good champagne, but made no attempt to drink it. Emma, on the other hand, took a glass from one of the waiters and downed it so quickly, she got the hiccups. Wisely, she decided this would be a good time to go and check on the evening meal. Murmuring an excuse, she went inside and, as she did so, she met Mark coming out. He was wearing a light pink linen shirt and he looked drop-dead gorgeous. Resisting the temptation to throw herself into his arms, she gave him a big smile and a mock curtsey.

  ‘Good evening, milord, you look very smart.’ This would have come across a whole lot sexier if she hadn’t hiccupped right in the middle of it.

  He smiled in return and gave her a little bow. As he did so, she distinctly saw his eyes drawn to what she considered to be her relatively revealing neckline. ‘Buonasera signora. And you look wonderful. That’s a stunning dress.’

  She grinned, just happy to be in his company. ‘If you think this dress is stunning, get ready for what awaits you outside. The parting of the Red Sea was nothing in comparison.’ She was relieved to have been able to deliver these lines without hiccupping.

  Mark laughed. ‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’

  As he spoke, she let her eyes run across his torso and she found herself measuring just where those three wounds on his chest would be. She had thought a lot about them since seeing him in the pool, wondering what might have caused them: a pitchfork, an explosion or maybe even bullets? Had he maybe been in the army? He had told her he used to work for the British government after all. Another hiccup brought her mind back to more immediate matters.

  ‘I thought I’d just pop inside to check what time dinner’s going to be served.’ This was punctuated by another hiccup. She caught his eye and grinned apologetically. ‘Well, to be completely honest, my champagne went down the wrong way and I thought I’d better go into hiding until the hiccups subside.’

  His smile broadened. ‘Well, I can save you the trip as far as dinner’s concerned. We’re aiming for eight o’clock – as long as our resident weirdo has appeared by then. As for the hiccups, they’ll go away pretty quickly, I’m sure. Come on, if you can spare a few minutes while your hiccups subside, I’d like to show you that romantic spot I told you about when we were in Bordighera. It’s not far and you can easily walk there, even in your heels.’

  To her delight, he then took her gently by the arm and led her through the lobby and out of a side door. The ground sloped away sharply, but a paved walkway led to a tiny promontory, overlooking the valley. Here, almost hidden by an ancient and luxuriant wisteria, was an equally ancient wooden structure in the shape of a pagoda. He helped her through the narrow doorway until they were standing side by side. When they came to a halt, she waited for him to release his grip on her arm but, to her delight, he kept hold of her as they stood there in silence for a minute or two, looking out over the valley below. She could even feel the beat of his heart through his skin and she wondered if he would notice the way her heart appeared to be engaged in an Olympic 100-metre sprint as her excitement grew. The sun was low in the sky and its rays had tinted both the hill on which the little town of Gubbio was situated and the peaks of the Apennines behind them a delicate rose colour. It really was a delightful spot and she couldn’t imagine sharing it with a better man. When he started speaking, it was in hushed tones.

  ‘When I told you this was a romantic place, I meant it. My grandfather proposed to my grandmother here, and my father did the same thing.’ He fell silent again and Emma risked a question.

  ‘And what about you? Ever proposed to anybody here?’ She crossed her fingers as she posed the question, hoping she hadn’t crossed a line. She had to wait a while for his reply.

  ‘Yes… yes, in fact I did.’ He released his grip on her arm and pushed his hands into his pockets. As he did so, she felt an acute sensation of regret.

  That answered one question that had been floating round in her head for some time now. ‘And did she say yes?’ She kept her voice low.

  Again, there was a lengthy pause, before he turned his head towards her and looked into her face. His expression was serious, but she was relieved not to see that same dark cloud that she had noted back at Rodolfo’s restaurant in Tuscany.

  ‘She said yes. We married twelve years ago.’ Emma was just reflecting that it would have been the same year that she had moved to the States when he carried on. ‘We got divorced seven years later.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She thought about asking more, but decided to let him tell her in his own time.

  He took a deep breath. ‘When we were to
gether, we got on fine. Fundamentally, the problem was my job. I was away from her a lot of the time and, in the end, she couldn’t take it any more.’

  ‘You said you worked for the British government. What was it you did?’

  There was a distinct hesitation before he replied. ‘I worked out of Whitehall, but I had to do a lot of travelling to overseas embassies and the like.’

  ‘So absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder?’

  She saw his eyes glint for a second. ‘It did for me, Emma. It just didn’t work the same way for Francesca. Of course, the fact that she had had to leave her home country and start a new life in London didn’t help. She’s from Perugia and although she did some English at school, she was never completely confident using it. As a result, she didn’t make many friends in England, and in the end she just stopped going out and I could see she was spiralling into depression. Divorce was the only logical solution.’ He hesitated again. ‘Or rather, it was the solution I chose. The other solution would have been for me to give up my job and move back here to Italy. I chose my job over my marriage.’

  ‘And you regret it?’

  ‘Very much. At least, I did.’

  ‘But now you’ve given up the London job. Couldn’t the two of you get back together again? Are you still in contact?’

  He nodded. ‘More or less in contact. You know, photos on Facebook and that sort of thing. The thing is, she’s married now. She got married four years ago and she’s got two lovely little children. Her husband’s a good guy. He was… is… one of my friends.’

  Emma laid her hand on his arm. ‘At least you’re both happy now.’ She caught his eye. ‘You are happy, aren’t you?’

  Slowly a smile spread across his face. ‘I wasn’t for a long time, but I really think I am now.’ To her delight, he leant down and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Emma. Thank you a lot.’

  ‘What’ve I done?’ She was very close to kissing him back – and not on the cheek.

  ‘More than you know.’ His voice was so low, she could hardly hear him. ‘More than you know.’ Suddenly straightening up, he glanced over his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. I took you away from the guests. We’d better get back.’ It was clear he was feeling uncomfortable.

  Emma let the desire to kiss him gradually fade away, but it wasn’t easy. She followed him out of the gazebo and back onto the path. As she came up alongside him, he caught hold of her arm again.

  ‘So, do you think you’re going to include that spot in the movie? Is it romantic enough?’

  She had already made up her mind about this. She shook her head. ‘It’s certainly romantic enough but no, it’s far too personal to you. I would feel like we were intruding.’ She took a deep breath and did her best to sound cheerful. ‘But from what I’ve seen, Umbria’s overflowing with romantic places. We’ll find somewhere else and leave you your own special place.’

  * * *

  The resident eccentric did indeed turn up in time for dinner – this time wearing a white tuxedo that would have looked better if he had also changed out of his frayed jeans. By that time, Laney was draped all over Mark, simpering in reply to his remarks, her eyes glued on his. Emma, heartened by her conversation with him in the gazebo, managed to subdue the urge to attack her with a fork and concentrated instead on Ethan, who looked and sounded delighted to find himself the object of her attentions. A couple more glasses of champagne also helped her further calm any homicidal tendencies.

  Over a magnificent dinner taken on the terrace by candlelight, they talked about the movie. It soon became clear that Erasmus hadn’t just been meditating in his room.

  ‘So the female lead, Emily, gets sick, and her guardian goes down with the same thing. Emily gets it real bad and then there’s that wonderful moment when the fever breaks and she sees it’s Robert who’s been looking after her. That could well be the most crucial scene in the movie.’

  ‘Will you shoot that here? Do you want to use one of the bedrooms?’ Mark took advantage of a brief moment of peace and quiet as Laney had left the table to take a phone call.

  Erasmus shook his head. ‘No, we’ll do all that back in Hollywood, but we’ll need a lot of exteriors of the villa plus some interiors in the main rooms like the dining room and the conservatory.’ He turned to Emma. ‘Can you make sure you get some good photos of a few bedrooms so we can make the set back in the studio as authentic as possible?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll take lots of shots of the dining room, orangery and some of the bedrooms. I’m sure you’re right about the events of this place being crucial to the movie.’

  ‘What did I miss? What’s crucial?’ Laney returned to the table. ‘I must confess I haven’t had a chance to read the screenplay yet. What’s the big deal about this place?’

  Erasmus launched into a long and detailed explanation and Emma watched the expression on Laney’s face. She was clearly hooked. When he finally ground to a halt, Laney spoke up.

  ‘I love the sound of that.’ She slid a sly glance across at Mark. ‘These screenwriters – always trying to get me into the bedroom.’ He didn’t react so she returned her attention to Erasmus. ‘How’re you going to shoot it?’

  As she and the director got technical about overhead shots, lighting and the sort of make-up she would need to make her look close to death, Emma kept her eyes on Mark’s face. He was following the conversation intently, either because he was interested in the nuts and bolts of moviemaking or maybe because he was still thinking about Laney in the bedroom. Emma gave a little internal snort. The big star’s play for him was so obvious as to be distasteful – at least to her. What Mark thought about it was another matter.

  It soon turned out she hadn’t been the only one to notice Laney’s interest in Mark. She heard Ethan’s voice at her ear.

  ‘Looks like Mark’s gonna get lucky tonight, doesn’t it?’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’d heard a few stories, but I hadn’t realised we had a cougar on the prowl.’

  Emma managed to whisper back to him through gritted teeth. ‘Maybe she’s just putting on an act.’

  ‘I always thought she was a great actor, but if this is acting, she’s the best. No, she’s made it pretty clear what she thinks of him.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I reckon she could do a lot worse. He’s a great guy.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a great guy.’ Emma’s smile must have slipped as Ethan came straight back at her.

  ‘To be honest, I thought the two of you might end up together. If that happened, he’d be a very lucky guy. I like you a lot, Emma, you know that.’

  ‘And I love you to bits, Ethan.’ She leant across and gave him a little kiss. She was really aiming for his cheek but, after three glasses of champagne, she ended up kissing him on the lips, but only very gently. ‘You’ll always be my big little brother.’ As she sat back again, she saw Mark’s eyes on the two of them. She gave him a little smile and he looked hastily away.

  Bugger, she thought to herself, why did he have to see that?

  She spent the rest of the evening drinking water, but feared that the damage had already been done. At the end of the meal, after the chef’s take on the French classic Îles flottantes, she watched as Laney grabbed Mark proprietarily by the arm and led him off ‘for a tour of the park’. As Emma ground her teeth and watched them disappear into the shadows, she felt a hand on her own arm and turned to see Ethan looking down at her.

  ‘Feel like a walk?’

  ‘Yes, I think I do, Ethan.’ She affected a carefree tone. ‘Have you seen the pool yet? I know my way there.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  They headed off along the gravel track. Too late she realised she was wearing her new shoes with the high heels and she had to cling onto Ethan’s arm for fear of toppling over on the gravel. He didn’t appear to mind. Little lights had come on in the bushes illuminating the path, and they found their way to the pool quite easily. When they got there, they sat down side by side on a bench and Emma stared i
nto the clear blue water floodlit from below. Something big and white swooped past them at speed and she suspected it to be an owl. Some seconds later her hunch was confirmed as an owl hooted in the trees just beyond them. The evening air was warm and once more dry, and she would have been perfectly happy, but for the thought of Mark and the diva somewhere in the shadows.

  ‘So I’m your little brother. Ouch, English, you know how to kick a guy when he’s down. You really don’t see you and me getting together?’

  Emma turned towards Ethan and groaned inwardly. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him. She reached across and caught hold of his hand and squeezed it.

  ‘You’re my big little brother, Ethan. You and I go way back, you know that. I meant it when I said I loved you to bits. You’re my very best friend in Hollywood and I can’t risk that by letting myself start thinking of you any other way. The thing is, my contract’s crystal clear – no romantic relationships within the company. If you and I had a thing, I could lose my job and that would mean I’d also lose you. I don’t ever want that to happen.’

  He sat in silence for a few seconds before trying again.

  ‘So what? What if I’m really serious and this thing could go all the way? You wouldn’t need your job. I’d take care of you.’ She felt his hand give her a squeeze. ‘You’d never need to work again.’

  ‘Ethan, I don’t know how to say this, but I’d hate that. Not you, I don’t mean that. I love my job and I really want to do my very best and get ahead. I know you’d look after me, but I would miss it and I don’t want to give it up.’ Sensing that she needed to give him more, she took a deep breath and added. ‘And there’s something else. The thing is, you were right – I can’t stop thinking about Mark. It’s never happened to me before, but I get goosepimples just looking at him. I can’t explain it.’

  She felt his fingers squeeze hers again. ‘I can, Emma. It’s a thing called love.’ He looked up from the water and turned towards her. ‘I know what that’s like.’