A Jersey Affair
The Jersey Scene Book Two
Georgina Troy
When shoe designer Paige Bingham is jilted she decides to enjoy her honeymoon-for-one in Sorrento. What she doesn't expect is to meet a mysterious entrepreneur, Sebastian Fielding, when she gets there. He helps ease the sting of rejection as he introduces her to the ancient sites he knows and loves. Unfortunately, soon after Paige returns to her island home in Jersey, she discovers that not only is Sebastian's company taking over the struggling store where her business is based, but that her concession is probably surplus to his requirements. How can Paige stop her fledgling business from going under? And what can she do to fight the gossip now that the paparazzi have published their untruths about 'A Jersey Affair'?
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Dad, Mum, and my extended family, especially Tim Wilson, for all your support. To my wonderful friends, especially Christina Jones for your beautiful cover quote and Fee Roberts for being the first person to buy each of my books and telling everyone about them. Thank you to the wonderful team at Accent Press, especially my brilliant editor, Cat Camacho, and Stephanie Williams, Beth Jones and Hazel Cushion. Thank you to the Jersey Writers, Novel Racers and Romantic Novelists’ Association and to all my other supportive writer friends, especially Liz Fenwick, Karen Clarke, Kirsty Greenwood, Jennifer Joyce, Jane Risdon and Gilli Allan. Thanks to Tess Jackson and Andrea Harrison for letting me talk endlessly about my books; to Kate Troy Goddard and Rachael Troy for being there with chocolate when I needed it and Jason and Chris Troy for letting me brainstorm ideas with them. To Courtney McCann and Lorenzo Marcotullio for their wonderful feedback – keep it coming.
A very special thanks to my lovely Max who was always with me while I wrote my first two books in this series and above all, a big thank you to my lovely husband Rob and my children, James and Saskia, who have had to put up with me spending huge amounts of time staring into space and to whom I dedicate this book, with much love.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter One
‘I hope you’re phoning to tell me you’ve arrived safely?’ Olly asked, his tone willing her to confirm that she had.
‘Yes.’ She blew her nose once again, wondering why she always felt the need to phone him every time she became too miserable. ‘Nothing awful has happened since you dropped me off at the airport this morning and I haven’t changed my mind about being here, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘Good. Now stop snivelling and go and search for an Italian bloke to take your mind off Jeremy.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Look, I know you think all your dreams for the future have disappeared,’ he added gently. ‘But you’ll make more.’
Paige supposed he was right, but it was difficult to imagine her life without Jeremy in it. ‘You never really liked him much, did you?’
Olly cleared his throat. ‘I just never pictured you as a trophy wife; you’re far too ambitious for that. Anyway, he was too flamboyant, always having to drive expensive cars and wearing bespoke suits.’
‘I suppose so,’ she thought back to her plans for her wedding. ‘He was only saying the other day how well his morning suit was coming along for our wedding. I still can’t quite believe it’s not going to happen.’
‘Yes, well one of these days you’ll be grateful for him calling it off. Not every man is full of his own self-importance with a need to show everyone how successful he is. Look at me for, instance.’ He laughed. ‘Go on, get out there and find someone new.’
‘Surely you don’t seriously expect me to be interested in anyone after everything that’s happened?’ She slumped down on the balcony chair conveniently placed under the ivy-covered pergola, grateful for its shade from the midday Italian heat. ‘I suppose his family must be delighted he’s replaced me with someone more to their taste socially.’
‘Don’t be such a drip,’ he said. ‘So what if they are? You couldn’t stand his snooty mother; she was always comparing you to posh exes of his. Anyone would think that idiot was worth keeping. Now get off your bum, put on a pair of your more colourful sandals, then go and explore Sorrento.’
‘Fine, but if I can’t find something to wear that doesn’t make my bottom look the size of a Shetland pony, I’m not going.’ Paige glanced at the yellow shift dress she’d just dropped onto the bed and wished she hadn’t bothered packing it.
‘You’ll be back in Jersey soon enough, moaning about wasting your trip. If nothing else, you can get inspiration for your next set of designs.’
‘You’ve been talking to my sister, haven’t you?’
‘How can you tell?’
‘You don’t know anything about women’s shoes and I’ve never heard you say the word sandal before,’ she laughed.
‘Clem’s worried about you. I had to stop her from racing round to Jeremy’s house and giving him hell for jilting you.’
Paige chewed her lip guiltily. She should turn to Clem before Olly, but worried about upsetting her sister further and anyway, Olly had been her best friend for so long that she was used to confiding in him. She thought back to how strange it had seemed when her sister and Olly first began dating. She was used to them being together now though and hated to think that her distress at being jilted might make them feel awkward for being so happy and in love. Her one-person honeymoon had been the only good thing to come out of this wedding mess. She still couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to come alone to Sorrento. ‘I need time to think.’
‘A break-up is always hard and it’s only been a week since everything happened. You’ll be fine, though, I just know it. Once you’ve had time to recover from the shock, I bet you’ll come back here and be ready to focus on your shop again.’
He was probably right, but it was still a little difficult accepting that Jeremy had changed his mind about their marriage and she hadn’t seen it coming. Then again, at least now she understood why he’d been acting so strangely recently. So much for pre-wedding nerves.
‘Paige, are you still there?’
Had Jeremy turned to Gretchen because she’d spent all her time thinking about future designs for her shoes, like he’d said?
‘Stop dwelling on that jerk,’ Olly shouted, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Ol, you’re the perfect best friend and always ready to listen to me.’ She couldn’t help smiling, he knew her so well and she hated the thought that her situation was causing upset for those closest to her.
‘Probably because you don’t
often moan about things,’ he laughed, his voice sounding tinny down her antiquated phone. ‘When you get back we can spend time working on the new website designs. I’ve had a few new ideas that should perk it up a bit.’
‘Good. I know the one I have now isn’t nearly stylish enough for the image I want to project.’ She brushed a fly off her ankle.
‘Never mind that now. You go and make the most of that incredible place.’
‘I thought I’d have a look at the shoe shops here and see how their designs compare with mine.’
‘You see?’ Olly laughed. ‘You must be feeling a little better, because you’re thinking about your shoes. Right, I’ll put some ideas together while you go and mooch around Sorrento.’
‘Thanks Ol,’ she said glancing towards the window and staring at the rays of white gold light filtering through the metal shutters.
‘Good, now get out. I don’t want you back in that room of yours until it’s time for you to go to bed.’
‘OK, I’m going, but I won’t enjoy myself,’ she teased before replacing the receiver onto the eighties-style phone.
Paige picked up her red clutch bag, slipped on the matching shoes she had designed to complement it, and set off toward the confines of the old town. Treading carefully along one of the narrow roads, she breathed in the scent of oregano from the spice-filled air. This was more like it. She walked down the steps from the back garden of the hotel, at times holding on to the handrail especially where they tilted away from the cliff face. She stopped and concentrating on not looking down, stared across at the spectacular view across the sea to the other side of the Bay of Naples.
She gripped on tightly, watching her every step and breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the small supermarket at the beginning of the main thoroughfare. She was a little surprised to see so many designer shops dotted along on both sides of the road. Forgetting her nerve-wracking walk down there, she paid particular interest to the shoe shops and thought about the rumours her father had shared with her before her fateful meal with Jeremy.
What if her dad was right about De Greys? It had cost her a great deal to rent a concession in Jersey’s largest department store, and she didn’t think she would be able to afford to open another shop so soon after moving to King Street.
Paige stepped into the road. Catching her heel on the edge of the pavement, she tripped, just as a car she hadn’t noticed before skidded towards her. Closing her eyes she waited for the impact of the car bonnet, but hands seemed to come from nowhere, catching her under her arms, pulling her out of the way. She didn’t understand what her rescuer was saying to her in the confusion, but managed to regain her footing with his help.
‘Grazie,’ she said smoothing down her skirt and taking her bag when he picked it up and handed it to her.
She went to say something else, but the immaculate hero smiled briefly, said something, and pointed to indicate that he had somewhere to go. Then he was gone among the crowd of pedestrians passing her by. Paige didn’t want to know if anyone else had seen her reckless attempt to cross the road, so stopped to gaze at the closest window display while she gathered her senses. It dawned on her that none of the shoes in this particular shop had designs as quirky as her own. She could see the prices were similar to those that she charged and the shoes were beautifully made. Paige walked in.
‘Buongiorno.’ She gave them her friendliest smile and, trying to remember the sentence she’d looked up in her Italian for Idiots book, said, ‘Um, vorrei consentono alcune scarpe.’
The shopkeeper and his wife laughed. Paige cleared her throat, that wasn’t the reaction she’d hoped for. Wishing she’d had the sense to bring the book with her, she tried to recall how to say the phrase correctly.
‘I think you probably mean, vorrei comprare delle scarpe.’ A girl Paige assumed must be about fifteen said from the other side of the shop, her amusement obvious on her pretty face.
‘What does that mean?’ Paige asked.
‘I want to buy some shoes.’
‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about maybe selling some of my shoes.’ Paige laughed. ‘What did I say then?’
The girl repeated what Paige had said to her parents and then turned her attention back to her. ‘You said you would allow some shoes.’
Paige pulled an apologetic face at the older couple and shook her head. ‘Ahh.’
She explained that she was a shoe designer and was looking for outlets in Sorrento to stock her pieces. ‘I have pictures of some of my stock,’ she said locating the photos on her phone and showing them.
They looked at the phone screen for a minute and then the girl looked down at Paige’s feet. ‘These are yours?’
Paige nodded. ‘Would you like to have a look?’
The girl nodded, waiting while Paige stepped out of them and handed them to her. She gave one to the man and they both studied them attentively. ‘I love this tiny ‘P’,’ she said, pointing it out to her father. ‘It is a pretty shape.’
Paige looked at the nouveau-shaped letter that she incorporated onto the back of each of her heels. ‘Thank you. I have them on all my designs. Try the shoes on, they’re really comfortable, despite having fairly high heels.’
The girl kicked off her flip-flops and slipped her tanned feet into the shoes, immediately growing four inches in height. ‘Bellissima,’ she cooed.
By the time Paige left the shop, four inches shorter in the shop assistant’s worn flip flops, she knew that even if the shopkeepers never contacted her again, or ordered any of her stock, at least the young girl had a fabulous pair of shoes to show off to her friends, as well as leaflets advertising her website. Maybe word of mouth would secure a few extra sales?
It was amazing how well people could communicate when neither spoke much of the other’s language, she mused as she walked along the road to find the famous gelato parlour where Gina insisted Sophia Loren had sampled the world-famous ice cream. She pushed her small notepad into her bag and tucked it under her arm. She’d taken the first step to making contacts in Italy and now she was going to treat herself. This might not be the honeymoon she’d been expecting, Paige decided, but at least the day had been eventful and she had something she could laugh about with Olly when she spoke to him later on the phone.
She arrived back at the hotel a little footsore, but happy. Maybe it had been a good idea to come on this trip, after all. She kicked off the flip flops and sat on the edge of the bed to rub her feet. She needed to make a few notes about improving those shoes. Her mission had always been to design shoes that made a statement, while being comfortable for the wearer, and the ones she had worn to go into the town were not as good as she could make them.
Paige resisted the urge to phone Olly and tell him about her successful afternoon in the town, instead she left her room and walked through to the front of the hotel, determined to find one of the two terraces depicted on the hotel website. Paige sought out a cushioned chair on the higher one and stared at the spectacular view across the bay of Naples.
‘Wow,’ she whispered, marvelling at Vesuvius rising up from the turquoise sea in the distance.
‘Would madam care to order something?’
Paige relaxed back into the chair. ‘A glass of rosé, please,’ she said to the waiter.
She decided she deserved a bit of pampering and would have bought a bottle of champagne, but she couldn’t bear to waste it and wouldn’t have drunk the entire bottle by herself.
She was going to have to get used to being a singleton again. If only she hadn’t needed Clem to look after the shop for her, she would have loved to share this fantastic place with her sister. The whole reason they had planned the wedding to happen this week was because Clem could get away from university to attend and then look after her concession at De Greys while they were on honeymoon. She sighed. She wasn’t going to think about Jeremy, or the wedding right now. Paige closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the shops she’d visited that afternoon.
The waiter soon came back and placed her glass and a small carafe down on the table in front of her. She watched him pour the pink liquid into the glass. ‘Thank you,’ she said, signing the chit. Paige took a sip, it was delicious. She swallowed, relishing the coolness as it slipped down her throat.
Standing up to take yet another photo of the view, Paige smiled at the thought of Olly’s dislike of looking at other people’s endless holiday pictures. She sat back down, inadvertently knocked her handbag off the metal table and onto the tiles. She grabbed the chair, trying not to overbalance, and reached out to retrieve her bag, but her left foot shot forward on the slippery surface, sending her shoe flying toward the geranium-filled window boxes at the edge of the balcony. ‘Argh.’
‘Here, let me get those for you,’ said someone with an English accent from behind her right shoulder. Paige twisted round, squinting into the setting sun to see the owner of the melodious voice that seemed vaguely familiar. ‘Celebrating alone?’ he asked, with a hint of barely disguised amusement, she noted.
He retrieved her shoe and she slipped it back on her foot. ‘Yes, in a way, I am,’ she said, wondering if she knew him. ‘Celebrating, that is,’ she raised her eyebrows and shrugged. ‘And, in fact, alone.’
‘Are you OK after your mishap in the town earlier today?’
‘Pardon?’ She frowned. Had he seen her trip?
He smiled and indicated a seat on the other side of the table. ‘May I join you?’ He raked a hand through his well-cut, almost black hair, and looked a little less self-assured than he sounded.
‘I’m not sure I’d be the best company right now,’ she said, not wishing to offend him. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun. Then it dawned on her where she’d seen him before. ‘You’re the one who caught me when I fell over. I thought you were Italian.’
He smiled and held out his hand. ‘Sebastian Fielding.’
She stared at the well-tailored sleeve in front of her, as her eyes slowly recovered from staring up at the sun. ‘Thank you, Sebastian. Please, sit down.’
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