Flipped (Better With Prosecco Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

“Yeah well I didn’t get much sleep.” Her voice had gone husky with repressed desire and he felt his own desire swell within him. “Indigo brought them to me. Apparently they're easy to lay your hands on in this town.”

  “So you’re a new fan, then?”

  “Yes, I’m a new fan. So you’d better figure out a way to get better because I’m waiting for the next installment.” She leaned forward and placed just a whisper of her lips onto his own. She brushed them against his lightly and then whispered into his mouth. “I’m really sorry I laughed. This must be terrible for you.”

  “What?” he whispered back, “the panic attacks, or this kiss?”

  “Both.” He couldn’t take the temptation anymore and plunged his hands into her hair and pulled her toward him. Their lips met, his anxiety and fear making him aggressive. He would take what he needed, what she freely offered, to make himself feel human again, and what could be more human than this? His breath quickened as she slid her hands down the front of his t-shirt, coming to rest over his firm abs. He pulled her closer.

  His last coherent thought was that he should stop. They should take it slow. Then - he was lost.

  28

  Dean

  Dean had snuck into the townhouse around 1:00 am, exactly one hour and eleven minutes ago. How did he know this? Because he'd been staring at the clock on his bedside table for one hour and eleven minutes. No way could he go to sleep, his thoughts buzzing and swirling around the magnificent day he'd just spent with Hazel. After the picnic and the long, lazy and enjoyable afternoon on the grass, they'd wandered into Borgotaro. What he wanted more than anything else was for Hazel to be comfortable, relaxed and happy, and if Gio was right, getting more of her heart connected to this tiny town would help him succeed in that goal. Dean had taken her to Gio’s and then to his favorite bar across the street, The Odissea. They had drunk too much prosecco, giggling and staring into each other's eyes like love-struck teenagers. She'd done him in - he was smitten.

  He'd walked her home along his usual route, and taken her hand as they’d climbed onto the wide patio in front of the old hotel, The Roma.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” she’d breathed, resting her head onto Dean’s shoulder where it fit comfortably, like the missing piece of a puzzle. “I climbed these steps last time I came downtown and then got lost in all kinds of ridiculous daydreams.”

  “You too?” Dean had laughed. “I thought it was just me who swooned over neglected houses.”

  “Have you seen the house I’m living in? Talk about neglected.”

  “Yeah, about that,” he’d said, turning her to face him and holding both her hands in his own. “I want to help, okay? I know that you don’t believe I’m much of a carpenter. Why would you? But I’d like to help you with the house. You don’t even need to pay me. I need something to keep my head out of LA and my hands busy, and as much as I would like to continue with the thing that kept my hands busy today on a full time basis, we wouldn't get much done on the house that way. What do you think?”

  She'd smiled at him then. After their picnic she'd pulled a gauzy summer dress from her bag and disappeared into the trees to change into it. He tried not to peek. Now that dress floated around her tanned body. Her hair was down and was curly and unkempt, framing her pretty face perfectly. Her lips pursed, and he fought the urge to kiss them. Her answer was important to him, so he needed to give her the space to consider the question.

  “Okay,” she’d said, laughing. “It's not like I’ve had any other offers, at least none as irresistible as this one. One condition though, would you consider training Stefano as you go? I had a chat with him this morning and he told me he thinks his dad is the owner of the house, that's my mom's old boyfriend. Then I checked with Indigo before I left today and she said that guy didn't have any kids. She thinks maybe his mom made it up. I know we don't know much about him, but he's a really good kid who's fallen on hard times. We’d like to help him and it would be great if he had another, more practical trade.”

  “I can! It would be a huge help for me to have another pair of hands. When can we start?”

  “Hmmm… let me see? Tomorrow? I could handle seeing you again tomorrow,” she murmured, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

  “Tomorrow it is,” he'd said.

  Now he was lying in bed, wide awake and full of guilt. He wouldn't break Isabella's heart when he told her it was over. He may ruin her pampered lifestyle, sure, but not her heart. However, he should have told her sooner. It was disrespectful to both women to not have taken care of the Isabella situation before today. But the truth was, he hadn’t expected what happened today. He'd planned a quiet picnic where they could get to know each other a little better. He'd wanted to spend time together to confirm that this crazy, intense connection they had was something real. Well it was real all right! So real neither had been able to resist it.

  Except for the few minutes discussing his problem to Hazel, he hadn’t thought about Hollywood all day. LA, Adam, Isabella, the director, Rolling Thunder... it all seemed so far away from the right here, right now, and it all seemed so unimportant. Tonight, when he and Hazel were standing, admiring The Roma, he’d entertained a crazy idea. Wouldn’t it be great if they could open that hotel together and live in Borgotaro? They would head into town in the evenings for an apperitivo. They would host big dinners with Stella, Sara, Indigo and Atillio. Heck, he’d even invite Gio. They would cook together in the huge hotel kitchen, drink their morning coffee on the patio and watch the townsfolk finish their morning shopping. Best of all, they would work together to make that building the most beautiful hotel in Italy. People would come from around the world to stay there. Their life together would be rich and full, and far away from any cameras.

  He was losing his mind. He’d met this woman two weeks ago and now he was throwing his entire life away? He needed a reality check and fast. The digital numbers on the bedside clock glared at him through the darkness: 1:17 a.m. Six minutes had passed. This was going to be a long night. What time was it in LA? 6:17 p.m. Adam would be drinking his first evening martini right now.

  He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Adam answered with his usual forceful joviality.

  “Buddy!! Long time no speak!”

  “I spoke to you yesterday, Adam, remember?”

  “Yeah sure, sure,” Dean heard him making excuses to people, there was loud music and chattering in the background; he was already out schmoozing for the evening. There had been so many nights Adam had tried to get Dean to join him on his industry big-wig rounds, but Dean had begged off. Unchecked power wasn’t his scene. The noise dissipated and Adam was back on the line. “Great to hear from you, buddy. How’s it going over there?”

  “Getting complicated. How’s it going over there?”

  Adam ignored his question. “Complicated, huh? Sounds like a lady. That Hazel chick?”

  “Yeah, it's Hazel,” Dean sighed. Adam always had his number. “How did you know?”

  “You mentioned her before. I heard it in your voice. Does Isabella know?”

  “No. But I’ll tell her. To be honest, Adam I don’t think she’ll care. She’s been so distant lately and can’t be bothered to talk to me. She likes my house though. She might be upset about that.”

  “Well, you know how I feel about Isabella. But should you end it right now? I mean, maybe wait until you get back before you make any rash decisions. Maybe this Hazel chick is only a summer fling?”

  Now it was Dean's turn to ignore the question. “She’s not a chick. And I don’t know. But I’ve kind of fallen into this without thinking too much and it’s not fair to her or Isabella. I've decided to help her with the house she’s renovating. Stella thought it might be good for me to do some physical labor.”

  “Dude! Great idea! You’ll enjoy that, it’ll remind you of the old man you always talk about. Sounds like a project. Take your time. But I wouldn’t cut Isabella loose just yet, Dean.”

  “Take my time? You
said before that it was urgent I got back for filming? And what’s all this about you and Christopher Brook being all buddy, buddy? And why are you gunning for Isabella? You hate her.” The unease and doubt about Adam that had been bubbling under Dean’s ribs burst into his chest like a hot spring. Something was going on. “And while I’m asking questions, how come you didn’t tell me things were so bad with Sara? I thought we were brothers, Adam.”

  There was a shuffling sound as Adam moved the phone from his mouth, “I’m coming,” he whispered, but Dean heard it loud and clear. “Got to go brother. Duty calls. You enjoy your time with Hazel and I’ll be rooting for you over here. Not a word to Isabella if I see her, promise.” He was gone.

  Dean shoved his phone onto his bedside table and there was a thud as it dropped to the floor… Oh well. He felt so far from LA. So far from that hurried and frantic life; the wheeling and dealing and wining and dining. Why had he never noticed before how distracted Adam was? He’d been off the phone as fast as he could, maybe he was in a meeting, but prior to now Adam dropped everything when Dean was around. Dean had always been his number one priority. Was it a case of out of sight, out of mind? Or was it something more sinister?

  29

  Hazel

  Hazel had counted down the seconds to 11:00 a.m. when she could phone Liz. She had told Dean to come at noon the next day. She'd given him the excuse that she needed time to organize so she’d be ready to bring him up to speed on the project, but really she'd just been dying to call her best friend. Stefano had fixed her phone two days ago, but Liz hadn't answered that first day and she'd been with Dean all day yesterday. She needed to tell her about the new developments in Borgotaro, stuff she hadn’t felt right putting in email. She wasn't quite sure of the protocol for gossip.

  “It's amazing to hear your voice, Hay, but I hope you have a good reason for calling me at 5:00 a.m.,” Liz grumbled when she answered the phone. “So you got your phone fixed, huh?”

  “Yeah, Stefano fixed it. And I’m calling you at five because you can’t fool me. You’ve already been up and on your elliptical for half an hour.”

  Liz laughed. “Who’s Stefano?”

  “Oh, just some boy who’s living here. Indigo invited him. Do you need further explanation?”

  “No, I guess not.” There was the whistle of a teakettle. Liz was a traditionalist when it came to her morning tea: tea kettle, teapot, tea cozy, the whole works. “So how’s the land of perfect men? Did you find yourself a sexy Italian yet?”

  “Liz, do you know who Dean McLean is?”

  Liz's laughter bubbled through the phone and Hazel heard her slam down the tea kettle. “Do I know Dean McLean? I swear, Hay, sometimes I worry about you. No one else on the entire planet but you would ask that question. Of course I know who Dean McLean is! Me and half the population of the planet have fantasized about his dreamy eyes… not to mention every other yummy bit of him. Oh, my God!” Liz gasped. “I read on Facebook that he was in Italy. You didn’t catch a glimpse of him, did you? Was he someplace nearby?”

  “Yeah, he was nearby,” Hazel was laughing now. “Like, in my kitchen yesterday!”

  There was silence. “No! Oh my God, no! Hazel you lucky so and so! What on earth was he doing in your kitchen!? Are you on a home renovation show or something?”

  “He was picking me up for our date.”

  “Your date!! What are you talking about, Hay? Tell me you're lying or I'll lay down and die right now. Dean McLean! A date!”

  Liz smiled at her friend's reaction. Suddenly she felt justified in her obsession and her tummy fluttered in excitement. Plus, even though she and Liz had been friends for years, she'd never dated anyone, so they'd never gossiped like this. “Yep! And Liz, I’m not kidding, I've been awake all night. I didn’t sleep a wink. Why did you never tell me that men totally rock and I’ve been an idiot to avoid them all this time? I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “You can’t stop thinking about Dean McLean? You and the rest of the female population of the universe! How did this happen? What’s he doing there? Spill it!”

  Hazel had a sudden ache for Liz's company. She wanted her here, next to her, drinking tea. “He’s just taking a break from filming and visiting friends. What do you know about him, Liz? I don’t read all that Hollywood stuff. Indigo has waxed lyrically, of course, but half of what she says is total crap. Is he a stuck-up slime bucket? Does he have a reputation? He seems like such a good guy.”

  “Oh, he has a reputation all right, as one of the good guys, and that's according to about everyone who has ever interviewed him or worked with him. He's Hollywood's most eligible bachelor. Supposedly he had a rough upbringing, foster homes and such, and is super humble and thankful for his career. He still lives like he’s middle class, even though he has ultra-millions. I read somewhere he has a charity that buys cars for every foster kid aging out of the system in his hometown. It’s totally funded by him. He gives tons of money away to other causes too. Holy cow, Hay, Dean McLean… Damn! Did he kiss you??”

  “Oh boy, did he kiss me?! I think he likes me. But I can’t figure out why, if he’s some major, movie star dude.”

  “My god, look in the mirror, lady! Not only are you my most beautiful friend by far, you are also the smartest person I know and the most down-to-earth. I bet he’s never met anyone like you in fake LA. You’re about as real as it gets, Hay." Hazel laughed. Liz was her biggest cheerleader. "But wait - isn't he dating some Isabella woman? Did I read that?”

  "He says it's over, and I believe him. I can't stop thinking about him, Liz, and that's so dangerous, but he seems like such a genuine guy. Am I making a mistake?"

  Liz spluttered around a giggle. "Crap! I just spat tea all over myself. What mistake? You’re dating a movie star, girl! Holy cow, am I allowed to tell anyone?”

  “No! Like who, anyway? Slimy Samuel? How’s he doing on my job?”

  Liz slurped her tea. “You don’t want to hear it.”

  “Why?” She felt a knot of anxiety form in her stomach. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s killing it, Hazel. The client loves him, the Board loves him. This is the worst part, Chris has already mentioned the equity partnership twice.”

  Hazel felt a flash of anger at herself. What was she doing here falling all over a movie star while this jerk was stealing her career? “What? But that partnership is mine, Liz! You told me it was! So, Samuel does one job, and he’s freaking Superman? After everything I have done for the company?”

  “I know, I know. I told you you wouldn’t want to hear it. But what am I supposed to do? I can only bring up your name so many times without sounding like an idiot. I guess it’s out of sight out of mind.”

  “But he stole my ideas! You know he stole them!”

  “Hon, I know he stole your ideas, you know he stole your ideas, but we can’t prove it, can we? If we had proof, I’d be yelling and screaming. Listen, I’m sorry, I have to go, but what are you worried about? You’re dating an honest-to-goodness movie star!! Enjoy your time there and we'll figure it out when you get back. Bring that hunk with you! Love you!” The line went silent.

  Hazel stared at the dead phone in her hand. All the joy of the conversation had drained away. Samuel was stealing her job right out from under her nose. Samuel was working his butt off and stealing her job while she was traipsing around some forgotten village after a movie star. Had she lost her mind? Was she willing to gamble everything she had worked for on a summer fling? She had to get back to Jax. She had to get back to Jax and save her job. Don’t worry, Dad, she promised mentally. Don’t worry, I’m not throwing it all away for a man. I will make you proud, you’ll see. I'll figure out a way to expose Samuel and get my job back. But first I need the money from this sale.

  “I’m sorry to be listening.” Stefano was standing in the doorway of the kitchen staring at her white face.

  She smiled at him, “No problem, Stefano. Just work problems.”

  “Someone did som
ething to you at work? Stole something?”

  Hazel sighed, “Yes. A guy stole my designs.”

  30

  Dean

  Dean hadn't slept after he'd hung up with Adam. Something was going on. He'd lain awake trying to puzzle it through in his mind. Was Adam being honest with him? He was acting weird and had changed his story a few times. He'd been weird on the phone tonight. Adam was his best friend. But, if that were true, why did he trust his new Borgo family over Adam, who seemed so far away. Something had happened between Adam and Sara. She'd hinted at it. Plus, Stella hated Adam, which was not a good sign.

  Now it was 8:00 a.m., and he'd decided that even if he couldn't figure out what was going on with Adam, he was convinced he needed to end another relationship back home. He dialed Isabella's mobile. She picked up after the second ring, her greeting husky with sleep.

  "In bed already at 11:00 o’clock, Isabella? That doesn't seem like you."

  There was the shuffle of bedclothes, and he imagined her sitting up in the dark of their bedroom. "It figures the only night I need my beauty rest is the night you call so late. What do you want?"

  Dean's resolve steeled around him. He shouldn't be in a relationship with this girl.

  "You don't like me very much, do you, Izzy?"

  "Oh God, don't call me Izzy. What do you mean I don't like you? I live with you, don't I?"

  "Yeah, you live with me. But you don't like me much. In fact, I'm not sure you've ever liked me."

  "Dean baby, are you okay? Is this going to take long? I have a 6:00 a.m. call in the morning."

  He sighed. How had he missed this? "No - it won't take long. I think we've made a mistake Isabella. I don't think we're a great match. I'm sorry but I think we should separate. We can say it’s all my fault. It won't reflect on you."