Dreaming of Italy: A stunning and heartwarming holiday romance

by T A Williams

  ‘Hang on. Just tell me one thing. Whereabouts in Church Lane are you?’

  Emma was stopped in full flight. ‘Church Lane? What, you mean my parents’ address?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been driving up and down for five minutes now and I can’t find the damn house.’ He sounded frustrated.

  ‘You’re driving up and down this road?’ Emma was desperately trying to make sense of what she was hearing.

  ‘Yes, and it would be a great help if you people displayed house numbers on your gates.’ In spite of his frustration, she could hear joy in his voice. ‘Where are you, Emma? I need to see you, to talk to you.’

  The penny was beginning to drop. ‘Just keep driving. I’ll come out onto the road and meet you. We’re opposite the playing fields.’ Dropping the phone onto the table, she beamed across at her mother. ‘It’s him. It’s Mark. He’s here.’

  If she had been expecting a whoop of delight, she was to be disappointed. All she got was another little smile from her mum and a pragmatic decision.

  ‘I’d better wake your father and put the kettle back on again, hadn’t I?’ Her smile broadened as she pointed towards the door. ‘So what are you waiting for? Didn’t you say something about going out to meet him?’

  Emma grabbed her and kissed her before rushing out of the lounge, through the hall and out onto the drive. As she reached the gate, she looked left and then right. As she did so, a silver car appeared and she realised it was Mark. She actually felt her heart leap as he screeched to a halt and jumped out. She was totally unsurprised to feel tears running down her cheeks.

  ‘Emma…’ He caught her in his arms and hugged her to him, lifting her bodily off the ground. ‘Emma, my darling, Emma.’ His voice sounded choked with emotion.

  As he released her and stepped back, she saw that there were tears on his face too. She found herself starting to babble about her determination to make things work between them, but he just reached across and laid a finger on her lips.

  ‘I’d have been here sooner if I hadn’t had to get a flight into Gatwick and got caught up in traffic on the M25.’ In spite of the tears on his cheeks, he was smiling broadly now. ‘I should have done this back at the villa, in the pergola, overlooking the valley, but I missed my chance. But I’m not going to miss another one. Emma, I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t want to make the same mistake I made before. Love is more important than work. I know how much your job means to you so I want to come to California to be with you if you’ll have me.’

  Emma was speechless. ‘You want to come to California? But what about the villa, the hotel?’

  ‘It’ll be fine. Claudio knows what he’s doing and I can pop back every now and then. And if it isn’t fine, so what? I’ll still have more than enough to live on, for us both to live on, if you’ll have me.’

  Emma was still struggling. ‘And Carmen? What about her?’

  ‘You said it yourself, she needs a passport. We’ll find somewhere nice where she’ll be as happy as we are.’ He opened his hand and she saw he was holding a little black box. ‘I know you’re going to think I’m out of my mind after knowing each other for such a short time, but I’ve never been so sure about anything in all my life. When something’s right, you just know it. I missed the first flight because I had to wait at the jewellers, but never mind. I’m here now.’

  She thought her heart would break as he she saw him open the box and hold it out towards her. ‘I’m not expecting you to commit yourself, or to say you’re going to marry me or anything. I’m sure you’d think that would be crazy. But please, Emma, take this as a sign of the overwhelming, undying love I feel for you.’

  As if in a dream, she reached out and took the ring from him, slipping it onto her ring finger. There were tears in her eyes and a smile on her face as she answered.

  ‘I don’t think it would be crazy.’ She stretched her arms up and around his shoulders. ‘Not crazy at all.’

  And she kissed him.

  Epilogue

  Searchlights criss-crossed the night sky above the Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard as stretch limousines delivered celebrity after celebrity to the premiere of Dreaming of Italy. It was a warm night and the crowds were out en masse, cheering, applauding and clamouring for autographs.

  As Emma climbed out of the car onto the red carpet, Mark was at her side to give her a helping hand. He gave her an encouraging grin as he did so.

  ‘You look gorgeous. You know that, don’t you?’

  She grimaced. ‘I look like a Zeppelin, or at least I feel like one.’

  ‘The most beautiful Zeppelin in history.’ He glanced around apprehensively. ‘So, what do we do? Just walk up the red carpet or do we wait to be called?’

  Emma had done this a few times before so she knew the score. ‘Unless there’s a big star blocking the way, we just get our heads down and make a run for it. Nobody will know who we are so we should get through unscathed.’

  ‘The doctor said no running.’ His tone was concerned. ‘She also said no stress. I don’t know about you, but this is a whole new experience to me and I have to confess I’m feeling pretty stressed.’ To reinforce his point, a cluster of flashbulbs popped at the same time, half blinding them. She gripped his arm more tightly and smiled up at him.

  ‘Don’t fuss. I’m just having a baby. Women do it all the time.’

  ‘Not always on the red carpet, though.’

  ‘Now that would make for some interesting footage for the newsreels.’

  She heard her name being called and looked over her shoulder towards the latest limousine to arrive. Extracting his lanky frame from the car was Rich closely followed by Marina. In his tuxedo, he looked every inch the future Hollywood mogul he was well on the way to becoming, and Marina in her designer gown drew a host of cameras in her direction. Emma had a feeling the gossip pages would be full of the couple tomorrow.

  ‘Emma, hi, how’re you feeling?’

  She went over to greet him with a grin. ‘Hi, boss.’ After all, that’s what he would be pretty soon.

  He grinned back and she was delighted to see him looking so happy and settled these days. ‘There’s only one boss as far as I’m concerned and that’s you, Emma. Well, almost…’ He bent down to kiss Marina softly on the cheek. ‘Apart from Marina. She keeps me in place.’

  Emma kissed them both and assured Marina that her pregnancy was going fine. Rich asked Mark how his PhD at UCLA was going and received a thumbs up from him in reply. As they were chatting, the crowd exploded into a raucous cheer, accompanied by whistles and screams. The big star had arrived.

  Emma and Mark stood to one side as Ethan emerged from his limousine looking like the global megastar he undoubtedly was. His tuxedo had some sort of reflecting thread interwoven into the material and he glistened and sparkled in the lights. His shoulders were broad, his hair perfect and his tan just the right shade for the floodlights. Ignoring the waiting TV reporters with their cameras and microphones, he headed straight across the red carpet to Emma, beaming broadly, his arms outstretched in welcome.

  ‘Hey, English, how you doin’? You’re looking really great. How long to go now?’ His eyes dropped to her bump and he wisely stopped short of hugging her, just depositing a cautious kiss on her cheek before turning to shake hands with Mark. ‘Yo, Mark. Looking good.’

  Emma answered for both of them. ‘Hi, Ethan. You’re looking pretty damn good yourself. I’ve only got a month to go, that’s why I look like a blimp.’

  ‘You look just wonderful.’ He lowered his voice. ‘As for the movie, I’ve heard on the grapevine that the critics like it.’ Although theoretically tonight’s premiere would be the first opportunity for critics to see the movie, they both knew that a select group of ‘trusted’ critics always got invited to an early screening. She had also been hearing great things about the reception the film had received and she nodded in return.

  ‘What I’ve heard is that they love it, Ethan. And they love you and Laney
.’ She grinned at him. ‘You keep going like this and the city of Los Angeles will name a boulevard after you.’

  At that moment Dexter appeared as if from nowhere and caught Ethan gently by the elbow. He flashed Emma a smile as he explained that Ethan had things to do.

  ‘Interviews, Ethan. We’d better start with CBS. Hey, Emma, you’re looking great. It’s true what they say about pregnant ladies glowing. All well?’

  ‘I’m feeling fine, thanks, Dexter, and if I’m glowing it’s because I’m hot. How’s Pooch?’

  ‘Pooch is just great and she still loves her Italian raincoat.’ He looked up at Ethan. ‘Sorry, Ethan, but it’s show time, I’m afraid.’

  Ethan kissed Emma goodbye, shook hands with Mark and headed towards the media. Emma waited until Rich and Marina had set off up the red carpet before squeezing Mark’s arm.

  ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘I am if you are.’ The look he gave her still managed to send a shiver up her spine. ‘Have I told you recently how much I love you?’

  She reached up to kiss him. ‘Only about every hour.’ She grinned. ‘But one more wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘I love you, Emma.’

  ‘And I love you, too, Mark, more than you can possibly imagine.’ Supporting her tummy with her free hand, she set off with him at her side. ‘Now, if you don’t mind helping a pregnant woman along the red carpet, let’s go and see what the public think of Dreaming of Italy.’

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Canelo

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  Copyright © T.A. Williams, 2020

  The moral right of T.A. Williams to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781788639323

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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