by Emily Hudson
‘Here you are.’ He announced pushing a large white panelled door open. The room over looked the pool with its own private balcony. White like the rest of the house, it had intricate features picked out in bronze and a matching bedspread. I was back in my fairy tale as I took in the canopy draped around the bed.
‘This is incredible.’ I said aloud.
‘If there is anything you need, just let me know.’
Holding off unpacking fully, I only got out the few bits and pieces I would need to freshen up. Suitably revitalised, I opened the doors that led out to the balcony and took a deep breath. So this is what oxygen smells like, it was a far cry from the toxic air my virtually windowless flat let in. The grounds were vast and ideal for hosting even a large party. There was a sunken pool built off to the left; most of the grounds were given over to lawn, trees and shrubs, apart from the terrace directly beside the villa and an area that I could just glimpse down a crazy paved path. Looking on a little longer I saw Frank heading that way carrying a tray, presumably our lunch, as much as I could stare at the view all day, my stomach was crying out for much needed sustenance.
Dressed in a simple mint green dress, I made my way into the kitchen having firmly held the handrail all the way down the stairs, just in case! Frank was whipping up a dressing for the salad.
‘Can I do anything?’ Still refusing to let me lift a finger he ushered me down to the lower terraced area. This private area, offered a feeling of seclusion from the main house. Surrounded on two sides with trees the terraced area was set against a beautiful stone wall with built in bbq. The area was full of ornate pots filled with beautiful flowers, pinks and purples. Frank held out a cushioned chair for me at the large table decked out in light blue tablecloth, placing me in front of the most spectacular backdrop. Now I could see why a terrace had been built here. The green lawn sloped away gradually until the land met the sand and then sea.
‘This place is magical, have the Hepworth’s lived here long?’ Frank started lighting the candles in an attempt to keep the insects away.
‘The island has been in the family for generations.’ Frank informed me before turning something on the bbq. My stomach rumbled with the temptation of the food in front of me. Antipasti galore, now this is my type of cooking. There was an array of cured meat, prosciutto, mortadella, salami and a whole host of cheeses and then Frank came across with the freshly cooked flatbread, he’d just turned. ‘Carta di musica’ so named because it is as thin as sheet music,’ he announced brushing it with oil and sprinkling some salt and rosemary on. Pouring some water for me, he stopping half way, ‘I have some wine, if you’d prefer?’
My raised eyebrows suggested my quandary; I’d love a glass, particularly to help relax me but perhaps not the right first impression for my client. ‘Thank you Frank, I better not, hard to believe but I’m working after all.’
What a meal, I couldn’t put another morsel past my lips. ‘Keep feeding me like this Frank, I’m never leaving. I think I’m in love with this island already.’ He blushed, ‘That’s how it happens, first I fell in love with the island, then I found my wife and fell in love all over again.’ Frank regaled me with more details of his story and by the end even my jaded heart was touched.
Frank insisted I relax after lunch; I’d been on the go so much in recent months, I feared I might not get back up again. Having taken a stroll around the grounds I reluctantly gave in, eventually putting my feet up on a lounger, notebook in hand and started putting my ideas for the party down in writing.
Taking in my surrounding I could imagine fairy lights around the terrace, food much like we’d sampled at lunch, perfect for nibbling and sharing. The lawn could take a dance floor and marquee if the weather was inclement. Themes or entertainment still eluded me but one thing I knew is that I wanted to utilise the lower terrace as some sort of chill out area with mood lighting, maybe a saxophonist. Without knowing more about the host I was somewhat at a loss to continue; that, combined with the as yet completely unfounded worry I’d caused myself, add to that, all the traveling, I was beginning to get a headache. I’ll just close my for a minute…
I woke a little disorientated, a blanket had been placed around me and there was a note resting on my notebook.
You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back shortly from the airport.
Frank.
Suddenly I felt very uncomfortable lounging around in someone else’s house as they were just about to return home. I was grateful for the blanket, the temperature had dropped since I fell asleep. As I made my way back into the house, my unease didn’t settle. Should I wait in the entrance hall ready to greet my client? I’d dealt with wealthy clients before but the unknown aspect of this situation made me feel completely out of my depth. Deciding it was ridiculous to wait I climbed the stairs to my room. Pushing open the heavy doors the first thing I noticed was a stunning blue dress, not unlike the one I had worn for Alicia’s wedding laid out on the bed. Automatically I went to touch it, silk definitely silk. Oh my word, things just got weird! The note on top,
Dinner is at 18:30, it is expected you dress for dinner.
Ok, Frank might have been friendly but this sent alarm bells ringing. If this was someone’s weird idea of fifty shades of fucked up in Sardinia they could take a running jump. Creeped out beyond belief I heard the sound of front door open and shut and muffled voices. My eyes wondered back to the dress, it was tasteful, but Lucy Crawford was never one to do as she was told and she wouldn’t start now, no matter how well she was paid.
Chapter Thirteen
Dressed in a simple black shift, I carefully began my descent, desperately trying to cling onto any modicum of gracefulness as I attempted to glide down the staircase. By the time I neared the bottom, all grace was gone as I clomped my way down the last few steps meeting a flustered Frank.
‘Oh, Miss Lucy, you do look lovely. My apologies, did the dress not fit?’ Frank was growing on me the more time I spent with him.
‘No apologies required Frank, I’m just here to do a job; I shall be explaining as much and returning the dress to Mr Hepworth.’
Frank’s expression said it all, his mouth hung open. Obviously, this was not the done thing. Man buy woman dress, woman wear dress. Woman please man. Over my dead body!
Once Frank had recovered he escorted me to one of the side rooms; ‘Let me announce you,’ he said opening the door.
Seriously, where were we the court of Louis XIV? The drawing room was deserted, all but a bottle of champagne and two glasses; handing me a glass Frank ushered me to the terrace outside. Drawing nearer I could make out a tall muscular figure of a man outside, he looked as though he was surveying the gardens. With his back to me it was hard to make out any features other than the fact he filled his tailored suit perfectly.
‘I’ll let him know you’re here.’ Opening the French doors that led to the terrace, Frank immediately sought the man’s attention. ‘Sir, Miss Crawford has arrived.’
Oddly the man did not turn around and instead of responding in English, he spoke back in what I presume was fluent Italian. Turning back to me, Frank smiled, ‘Mr Hepworth has asked for you to join him on the terrace.’ Taking another sip of champagne, I made my way outside. As stepped over the threshold I caught a glimpse of the flash of a tuxedo; suddenly, my simple shift felt like a really bad idea, evidently this man liked to really dress for dinner. Oh goodness, what if he is in cahoots with the Mafia and I’ve really displeased him. Only one way to find out!
‘Mr Hepworth?’ I tentatively said.
‘Yes’ came a reply in tandem from in front and behind me. I turned to Frank and stared, I knew something was odd.
‘My apologies, Miss Lucy.’ Frank said somewhat squirming under my scrutiny before making a hasty exit. So, that left me with the other source, twisting back to face the man of mystery, his back was no longer to me.
‘YOU!’ I exclaimed as he stepped out of the shadows; his features unforgetta
ble.
‘It’s lovely to see you too, Lucy.’ Came the smug retort.
‘If this were not good champagne, it would be all over you by now. What the hell do you think you’re playing at Marcus? What are you up to?’ My heart was pounding out of my chest. It had only been four weeks, since I’d last seen him but my memory of him hadn’t done me any disservice. Those ice blue eyes melted my very core but at the same time, I was annoyed, boy was I annoyed.
‘I’m not up to anything Lucy, I am in desperate need of your services.’
The way he said it made it sound completely indecent. Reacting a little too quickly, as is my way. I slammed the glass down a little too hard, the fine stem snapped in two, sending my glass and its contents smashing to the floor.
‘My services are not for sale.’ I blurted out irritated as Marcus appeared amused.
‘I like where you were going with that thought, but I really do have a party to organise and in less than three weeks.’
Ignoring him I crouched to collect the glass, ‘Leave that, you’ll…’
‘Shit!’ I exclaimed drawing breath quickly as a shard of glass pierced my finger. Dumping the contents of broken glass, I’d foolishly collected in my hand I checked my finger. Blood everywhere, Marcus was at my side instantly, napkin in hand, pulling my injured hand to him.
‘Let me look at that. Frank, we need a first aid kit.’ I snatched it back, still clutching the linen he had secured around it, applying pressure I exhaled loudly hoping the pain would abate. ‘I didn’t realise you were so stubborn.’
‘Why would you?’ I snapped back, the throbbing in my finger only increasing with my anger. ‘You have absolutely no reason to know, you don’t know me.’ Was it wrong that even whilst the words tumbled out of my mouth, the truth was I wanted him to know me. Frustrated by my words he ran his hands through his hair. ‘I’m not sure how we descended into this, I don’t know why you are so upset.’ Upset! He’d lured me here under his housekeeper’s name, I had no preparation to deal with the fact I was being confronted by the man who was supposed to be a one night stand, on his private island, in this magnificent house, feeling a little, well if truth be told, vulnerable. Slumping into one of the terrace chairs, I drew breath.
‘Why couldn’t you be honest?’ I said more disappointed that another man in my life seemed to disregard its value.
‘Would you have come?’ I had no idea, it’s not like I was even given time to consider it as an option, I gave the simplest and honest answer I could.
‘I don’t know.’ I said head down shaking. ‘I don’t enjoy being played Marcus.’ Frustrated Marcus raised his voice, not to the point he was shouting but to the point I could imagine I wouldn’t want be on the wrong side of him in a court room.
‘You think I’m playing you?’ he boomed. ‘That’s cheap from the woman who slipped out of my bed without a word.’ Ego obviously dented, he had to bring that up didn’t he. Frank purposefully cleared this throat in the doorway, bringing a pause to our spat as he came forward with a first aid kit. Gently removing the soaked fabric from my finger Frank took my shaking hand, can’t tell if you if it was the sting of the cut or Marcus’ words hurt the most. Wincing I watched the blood starting to pool again as he inspected my wound, my eyes started to water.
‘Ideally we should get an x-ray to see if there is any glass left in there.’ I shook my head indicating that was unnecessary. ‘Worse case, you could have some nerve damage.’
‘Apparently, I’m senseless anyway, don’t worry about it.’ I said a little too facetiously; Frank wasn’t my favourite person since finding his part in this deception. Seeming to understand my need to vent my fury he wasn’t the least bit riled.
‘I’ll tape it but it’s deep, you’ll need to take care of it otherwise it will open up again.’
‘Thanks Frank – I’m sorry about the glass.’
‘It’s no bother.’ He said sweeping it away. Suddenly as I watched the motion of the brush, I came over all emotional. Damn, I didn’t need this now, here I was, desperately trying to hold myself together but what chance did I stand? The pain now radiated throughout my hand, shock was beginning to settle in as I started shaking, I was beyond exhausted, top off the fact that Marcus had just called me out or the fact that my period was due shortly? I stood absolutely no chance. The ominous silence continued as Frank swept up the rogue pieces of glass that had seemingly spread themselves widely.
Breaking the uncomfortable hush Frank declared, ‘Dinner will be ready shortly.’
A subdued Marcus, thanked his loyal housekeeper. ‘I’m sorry Lucy, this wasn’t how I planned this evening to go…Are you ok?’ he said watching me as the stray tear I’ll been trying to stem back, trickled down my cheek. He went to wipe it away.
‘I can’t do this Marcus.’ Rising from his grasp, his hand remained suspended where my cheek had been. ‘I’m sorry, I think I’m just a little tired, can we discuss the party in the morning.’
‘But dinner?’ he said as I made my way inside. ‘I’m not hungry anymore.’ I managed to hold it together until I’d made it to my room, when the floodgates opened.
I don’t know when it started but as I started to calm I heard a gentle knocking on my door, it soon turned a little more persistent, when I didn’t reply Marcus’ voice sounded. Even in the state I was in, the sound of his voice affected me, deep and masculine, my very insides melted.
‘Lucy, I know you’ve been crying and I know it’s my fault and for that I’m sorry. I’m also pretty sure you will be hungry when you see what I’ve got…Fuck it! I didn’t mean it to sound like that, I’ve just brought you something, open the door please, you really don’t want to learn how stubborn I can be.’
The knocking started again. ‘I can keep this up all night Lucy, your choice.’
I gave a little giggle at his words as the knocking resumed again. Settling on the lesser of the two evils – hear him out as opposed to listen to that all night.
‘Let’s not do this again.’ He said regretfully, as I inched open the door, I purposefully inspected the tray he clutched, filled with, what looked like, spiral doughnuts. Hmmm! Accepting his peace offering, I opened the door wider.
‘You know, you couldn’t be more wrong,’ he said softening his tone.
‘About what?’ I replied and for the first time, really studied his face, he looked exhausted.
‘I will admit that the minute I conceived the idea of this party for Livvy, I saw it as a perfect opportunity for you and I to spend some time together. I don’t want to tell you how rough the last few weeks have been and use that as some kind of excuse, so maybe I’ll just admit to not completely thinking rationally. Call me stupid but I thought the plane and the dress would kind of be romantic.’ Moving across to the bed where the dress still lay, he stroked the material. ‘It was the closest I could find to what you wore at the wedding; stupidly I hoped we could re-create the moments we had there.’
Stunned by his admission I sat gazing up at his mesmerising eyes, more steel than blue in this light. Oh, what I would do to recreate those moments? But no, what was I thinking.
‘I’m sorry to, if it’s any consolation leaving you that morning was actually a hard thing to do. But this,’ I said pointing to him and then myself, ‘this has to be professional.’
He instantly looked upset, ‘Why?’
‘Why? – It’s my job Marcus, I need it, you’re a client now.’ I knew it wasn’t the answer he necessarily wanted but I needed to be honest.
‘No! I understand that. Why did you? If it was so hard, why did you leave?’
A bitter ‘Ha!’ Slipped from my lips. ‘If you must know I was protecting myself, avoiding the ‘well that was nice’, ‘don’t call me, I’ll call you,’ chat. You know how it would have gone.’ I said stuffing a doughnut into my mouth to stop me from continuing.
‘Nice, that’s all you’d have given us.’ I rolled my eyes as I cleared my mouth.
‘Oh, shut up! Stop fish
ing for complements, you know what I mean.’ I said brushing off the sugar from my lips.
‘So, it was more than nice?’ This was the cheeky Marcus I had gotten along with so well.
‘Is that what you’re after, praise? You rocked my world, now can we move on.’ I said amused, moving to grab another doughnut. Marcus snatched them out of my reach. ‘Oh no you don’t, you’re not having another one until you take this seriously. You’re the last person I would have kicked out of my bed, or dismissed in the morning; believe it or not, as you laid in my arms, I knew I couldn’t let you go.’
I laughed, not believing a word, men are all alike; my recent hatred reared its ugly head.
‘You’re wonderful Lucy, we’re great together and then one day, we won’t be, you won’t be there, you’ll be off, realising I’m not all I’m cracked up to be and you’ll find someone else. I’m not doing this again, I can’t.’ Where the hell did that come from? Tears pricked in my eyes, the hurt from Will, obviously still gnawing away at me. ‘I’m not going into the details, just believe me when I say I can’t.’
Irate he started pacing, ‘So, that’s it, one arsehole proves he’s not worthy of your love and you’re going to give up. You won’t give any of us a shot, is that right?’ He turned to face me, his eyes softening as he crouched down beside me ‘Don’t I even get the chance to prove I’m different?’ I didn’t have it in me to look him in the eyes, I knew what would happen if I did, focusing instead on my hands in my lap. When I didn’t respond, he got back up, pacing to the window. ‘I didn’t take you for a quitter Lucy.’ That raised my heckles, I’d never been a quitter in my life, I resented his words but maybe, just maybe, he had hit the nail on the head.
‘Can’t we just call it complicated and leave it as that.’ I responded.
‘This isn’t a Facebook status, Luce. I can accept that you don’t want to be involved because of work but I can’t accept it for any other reason.’ Pacing back towards the bed where I sat, he handed me the plate of doughnuts. Reaching out he ran his fingertips around my face until he tilted my eyes to meet his. ‘I want you Lucy and I intend to spend this week proving to you that I am worthy of your love.’ His mere presence, let alone his touch was enough to set my heart racing, when he leaned in further kissing my forehead, I was a goner and he knew it, my traitorous cheek nestled into his cupped hand. Anticipating more, I was stunned as he stepped back to the door, ‘Sleep well beautiful.’ I exhaled the breath I was holding, he was gone.