Italian Summer with the Single Dad

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Italian Summer with the Single Dad Page 4

by Ella Hayes


  * * *

  ‘Papà! Papà!’

  Olivia watched Alessia run into Zach’s arms, watched him swing her up, cuddle her in. He rattled off something in Italian then lowered his voice, adopted a coaxing tone until Alessia turned dark eyes towards her. He cautioned gently. ‘In English, remember...’

  Alessia licked her lips. ‘Hello, Olivia. Welcome to Casa Isabella.’ She smiled quickly then buried her face into Zach’s shirt, giggling.

  Olivia stepped forward hesitantly. Photographing kids at weddings was one thing; conversing with them was quite another. ‘Hello, Alessia. I’m very pleased to meet you.’

  Alessia jerked her head away from Zach’s shoulder and eyed her again, frowning a little.

  Zach tickled her under the chin. ‘Do you remember Olivia from Uncle Lucas’s wedding? She took your photograph.’

  Alessia began to writhe and giggle. Olivia took a few steps back. Watching Zach with his daughter, hearing the unfamiliar words pouring from his mouth so easily, was bringing her down to earth with a bump. She’d never thought about it before but of course he could speak Italian. He lived here. His wife had been Italian. Conscious suddenly of being the outsider, she turned away, hitched up the neckline of her top to cover her bare shoulder. Flirting, imagining—it had to stop here. He was embedded in a life that had nothing to do with her—a life she could never see herself being part of.

  ‘Nonna!’

  Alessia’s cry broke into her thoughts and she turned to see an elegant woman walking down the grand hallway towards them.

  ‘Lucia!’ Zach shifted Alessia to one hip and held out his arm. ‘Come meet Olivia.’

  As she drew closer, Olivia could see strands of silver in the older woman’s hair, sense the reticence in her slow smile. She was glad that Zach had warned her.

  ‘Welcome, Olivia.’ Lucia leaned in to air-kiss her cheek. ‘Thank you for coming.’ Another kiss. ‘We are very grateful.’ She stepped back, eyes searching Olivia’s.

  Olivia smiled. ‘No, I’m the one who’s grateful!’ She couldn’t read Lucia’s expression and it was unnerving, so she tried to visualise the older woman as a reluctant wedding guest facing the camera. She’d found the trick to getting people on board was to be bubbly, to distract them in some way, so she stepped into the middle of the wide hall and looked up at the glittering chandelier suspended from the ceiling. ‘This is astonishing!’

  She’d been so mesmerised by Zach and Alessia that she hadn’t properly looked at her surroundings, but now she took it all in. The patina of the wooden floor beneath their feet, the chalky yellow walls, the twin gilt-edged mirrors hanging over the console tables positioned on either side of the grand door. Beyond the vestibule where they were standing the floor of the wide inner hallway was laid with pale polished stone. The walls were hung with paintings and below the paintings there were more console tables, and occasional chairs.

  When she finally looked round to smile at Lucia she wasn’t faking her delight. ‘It’s so beautiful... Italy... Ravello! This house...everything! I’m over the moon!’

  Lucia was looking at her with wide eyes and at the edge of her vision she could sense Zach stifling a laugh. Perhaps she’d overdone the enthusiasm, but then Alessia suddenly wriggled out of Zach’s arms and came to stand by her side. She looked up, took a deep breath and said, ‘This is as-ton-ish-ing!’

  As Lucia and Zach burst out laughing, she breathed a sigh of relief. Never had she been so grateful to a child in all her life. She looked down at Alessia and grinned. ‘I’m so glad you agree!’

  * * *

  Casa Isabella really was astonishing. As Zach showed her around, Olivia could feel herself falling in love with it. The rooms were large and airy, high-ceilinged, flooded with light. The décor was a mixture of antique and contemporary. What she liked most was that Casa Isabella felt like a home—a big home certainly, but every space was inviting.

  Outside on the terrace, the view over the grounds to the sparkling sea took her breath away. She wanted to explore the garden straight away, but Zach said they weren’t finished inside yet. He led her back inside and along another wide hall on the ground floor.

  ‘Your rooms are along here.’

  ‘Rooms?’

  ‘Of course! It’s a small suite, a bit rustic—we haven’t got as far as renovating this part of the house yet—but I think you’ll be comfortable.’ He opened a door off the hall. ‘The kitchen’s here.’

  She stepped into a small, high-ceilinged room. It might have been a laundry room once, but now it was equipped with a fridge, a kettle, a two-ring hob and a microwave.

  He smiled. ‘It goes without saying that you can eat with us whenever you like...’

  She tried to imagine eating dinner under Lucia’s watchful eye. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m sure your family time is precious.’

  His eyes narrowed and he looked as if he was about to say something but then he stepped back into the hallway and opened a set of double doors on the opposite side. ‘The rest of the suite is in here.’

  She stepped through a small lobby and into a large comfortable sitting room. In one corner there was a desk with a computer and hard drives, but the rest of the room was set out for relaxing. A sofa and chairs were loosely arranged in front of a marble fireplace, lamp tables and other occasional tables scattered in between. The French windows overlooking the garden were open, white muslin curtains lifting in the breeze. She gazed at the view, all smiles. ‘This is lovely.’

  ‘It’s a doer-upper, but I’m glad you like it. The bedroom’s through there, and there’s an en suite bathroom—it’s old-fashioned but it works.’

  She pushed open another set of doors and smiled again. The bedroom was spacious. The walls were whitewashed, yellowing in places, but the effect was charming. A huge antique bed was made up with white bedlinen, a blanket folded over the mahogany footboard. She noticed that her suitcase had already been brought in and left on a rack between a large wardrobe and a large chest of drawers. Everything in the room seemed large. She peeped into the en suite bathroom and smiled again. Claw-foot bath, huge porcelain sink and a separate shower recessed so deeply that there was no need for a screen.

  She turned around. ‘It’s lovely, Zach.’ The dark serious eyes she’d seen in the car had been replaced with twinkling blue ones and she was glad. Perhaps now that she’d cleared the hurdle of meeting Lucia he would relax. ‘I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this—I mean, a whole apartment to myself?’

  ‘You’ll need somewhere to hide from the mayhem.’

  She sat down on the bed and gazed around the room. ‘Is that what it’s like?’

  ‘It can get crazy sometimes. We’ve only got fifteen guest bedrooms, but we’re filled to capacity every weekend and, as you know, weddings are demanding. There’s all the coordination beforehand, then when the wedding party arrives it’s busy. There’s always an army of beauticians and hair stylists in tow, then caterers, florists—you know the score. After the wedding we have to keep going. Breakfasts, checking out the guests, arranging transport, room cleaning, maintenance, then it begins all over again.’

  ‘Do you ever get time off?’

  ‘Not much.’

  She ran her hand over the quilt, felt its silky cotton softness. Eight-hundred thread count.

  Nice.

  She looked up, found that he was watching her. Little butterflies started up in her stomach. ‘So, why put yourself through it? Weddings, I mean. You could run yoga retreats instead—far less demanding!’

  ‘Lower income too—this place costs a lot to run.’ Suddenly, his eyes took on a faraway look and he turned away, walked to the window. For a few moments he gazed at the view. ‘Actually, it’s not about the money. It’s because we fell in love...’

  Silhouetted against the window, he cut a lonely figure. Olivia felt a shiver tra
velling up her spine, an urge to go to him, but instead she folded her hands in her lap.

  ‘When we came to view this place we’d been looking for a going concern, a boutique hotel—something that we could just take over. But then this place came up. It was in a bad state. The interior was shot, the garden was a jungle. Everything was wrong with it, but it had good bones and as for the location... I remember we stood out there on the terrace as the sun was going down and it was romantic.’ She could hear the smile in his voice, his evident fondness for the memory. ‘Then Izzy looked at me and said, “We should turn this into a wedding venue.” It was an inspired suggestion... I bought it the next day.’

  Olivia imagined standing on the terrace with Zach, a fiery sunset over the sea, his body warm and close...but that was Isabella. He was in love with Isabella, he’d made his vows to Isabella, built a life and a home with Isabella.

  Suddenly, he spun round and smiled. ‘Impressive speech about gratitude, by the way. Not at all over the top.’

  She could feel the warmth in his smile, felt that they really were becoming friends. She pulled a face and laughed. ‘I was trying to be amenable. At least Alessia appreciated my performance.’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, thanks for that. As-ton-ish-ing is going to be her new favourite word.’

  ‘Well, it’s a good word.’ She got to her feet and joined him at the window. ‘It sums up Casa Isabella perfectly.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  FROM HIS OFFICE BALCONY, Zach could see Olivia working with the bride and groom in the garden. Over the hubbub of wedding guests on the terrace below, he could hear the occasional burst of laughter from the couple as she directed them through a walking sequence. She looked confident and relaxed, demonstrating to the bride how to hold the bouquet as she walked, adjusting the flower on the groom’s lapel. He remembered the way she’d tidied his own buttonhole at Lucas’s wedding, standing so close to him that he could smell the lingering fragrance of her shampoo. She’d taken him by surprise, or rather he’d taken himself by surprise, noticing things about her, like the way her smile reached all the way to her eyes, and the graceful way she moved.

  He retreated into the room and poured himself a glass of water from a jug on the table. He’d thought she might be nervous about today—her first wedding at Casa Isabella—but he’d been watching her discreetly all day and she’d been every bit as polished and professional as he’d hoped. If she was nervous, she’d certainly kept it under wraps. He sipped from his glass, felt the cool liquid sliding down his throat. Soon her working day would be over. The wedding breakfast and speeches were finished. There was only the first dance left for her to shoot. Michele usually took a little break before photographing the first dance, but she was out there with the couple, taking pictures in the mellow evening light. Just yesterday she’d been telling him all about the golden hour, how it was the most beautiful light for romantic pictures, but as she’d been talking all he’d been able to think about was how much he liked the light in her eyes.

  She was a breath of fresh air, a little breeze stirring his senses around, blowing through the veil of sadness that had settled over him since Izzy’s death. As soon as he’d finished showing her around the house on the day she arrived, she was off exploring every inch of the grounds and formal gardens. All week she’d been out there, taking test shots, assessing the light at different times of the day.

  Dedication!

  Only this morning she’d suggested some adjustments to the ceremony layout on the terrace which would give her better shooting angles. ‘The pictures are what the couple take away with them,’ she’d said. ‘We need to give them the best possible images, and that works for your business too because those pictures on your website gallery will help sell the venue.’

  It was nothing he didn’t know already, but although he was always busy and involved with things, of late he’d lost that intimate connection with the business that he’d had at the beginning. Olivia’s energy and enthusiasm were challenging him, reminding him just how emptied out he felt.

  Izzy’s death would have finished him if it hadn’t been for Alessia. Alessia was his reason for living, the reason why he’d needed to achieve Izzy’s dream of turning this place into the perfect wedding venue. He was well aware that throwing himself into the renovation, driving himself day and night to push the project forward had been his way of coping with the grief. Eight months after Izzy’s funeral, Casa Isabella had opened for business. Merrill Hotels now had a destination wedding venue in its portfolio, a database of eager couples looking for a romantic wedding venue in Italy. The first year had been a huge success. Five-star testimonials had led to a rush of forward bookings so that now he barely had time to breathe. When Olivia had asked him if he ever took time off, he’d wanted to laugh. Lucas’s wedding had been his first weekend off in over six months.

  * * *

  Olivia threw herself onto the bed and exhaled a long, happy sigh. Her first solo wedding—in the bag! She smiled at the ceiling.

  This morning, when she’d tapped on the bride’s door, she’d been jittery with nerves, but after shooting the first few pictures the butterflies in her stomach had vanished. Now she was exhausted, but euphoric too. She was so glad she’d taken those last romantic pictures in the low light, got that little flare at the side of the frame. Stunning!

  As she slipped out of her dress and pulled on her old jeans and a tee shirt, she was thinking about Ralph, how touchy and difficult he used to be during a wedding. After today, she could understand him a little better. The pressure had been relentless, not only because of the responsibility, but because she’d spent the day pushing herself, chasing the perfect shot—what Ralph used to call the money shot.

  She freed her hair from its clip and shook it loose. She knew she should chill out, but she was buzzing. She simply had to download the pictures, take a look at what she’d got.

  In the sitting room she switched on the computer. Zach had bought the best equipment for her, top quality hard drives, the latest graphics tablet. With sixteen hundred photographs to turn around in a week, she’d told him she would need a fast system and thankfully he’d listened. She started downloading the pictures then crossed to the French windows and flung them open. Instantly she could hear the muffled bass beat of the wedding band playing some lively number in the function room, snatches of chatter and laughter from guests relaxing on the terrace above. She stepped outside, breathed the fragrant evening air. The statues and fountain were lit up and there were more tiny lights twinkling amongst the leaves of the trees closest to the house. Everything looked magical. Isabella’s dream brought to life.

  Was running a wedding venue Zach’s dream too? She couldn’t help wondering...

  He’d been on the go all day, on hand for the wedding planner, quietly making sure that everything was running smoothly. He seemed to drive himself hard, had admitted that he didn’t take much time off, but it didn’t make sense to her. The Merrill family was wealthy. There was the UK hotel chain and now this Italian wedding venue. She’d looked at the marketing brochures and the rate card. She knew how much it cost to have a wedding at Casa Isabella, and the place was booked solid! Even if her estimation of running costs was wildly inaccurate, she figured that Zach could easily afford to employ a manager. He employed other staff after all: a housekeeper, several cleaners, a secretary, two gardeners and a maintenance guy. Perhaps it was none of her business, but it bothered her that in the short time she’d been here she’d never seen him take Alessia out or play with her for more than five minutes at a stretch. It was clear that he adored his daughter, yet Alessia seemed to spend nearly all her time with Lucia. Olivia couldn’t help feeling that if he didn’t make time for Alessia now he would regret it later.

  She massaged the back of her neck, felt memories unspooling. Her relationship with own father wasn’t great, but at least she could look back at the happy times they’d shared...the way h
is eyes used to twinkle. ‘Let’s go adventuring, Liv!’ That always meant they were going to do something special—wild swimming, long walks, campfires and marshmallows. He was an ecologist—passionate about nature. He knew bird calls and the proper names of all the insects and plants. For the longest time she’d admired him. The way he stood out from the crowd—not just because of his height and his ponytail, but because he was outspoken. She remembered the primary school parents’ night when he’d challenged her teacher about letting kids use plastic straws for a collage on the classroom wall, other parents and kids looking on, whispering.

  She’d modelled herself on him. During a class session on religion and ritual across different cultures she’d proudly told the class that her parents weren’t married, that marriage was an outdated ritual that had nothing to do with love and fidelity. She’d been defiantly vocal, just like he was—and then he’d left, moved to Wales.

  She felt as if he’d hung her out to dry.

  It hadn’t helped that her three best friends all had parents who were happily married, ticking off anniversaries year after year. Celebration cakes, little weekend breaks, family get-togethers. No wonder she’d become fixated on a fantasy of perfection.

  At university she’d tried to wean herself off the idea, tried to be more casual about relationships, but she’d failed. Now she knew her own mind. She wanted to do things by the book. A ring on her finger, total commitment, no loose ends. She wanted someone who would promise to love and cherish her for the rest of her life—someone who wouldn’t leave like her father had. The trouble was, no one had ever come close.

  ‘Hello?’

  A voice from inside startled her. She listened again.

  ‘Liv—?’

  Zach!

  She stepped back into her sitting room to find him standing in the doorway with a tray of food balanced on one arm and a bottle of wine in his hand. When he saw her, he lifted his eyebrows and put on a waiter voice. ‘Room service for Olivia Gardner.’ And then he came forward and set the tray and bottle down on a low table. He drew back to his full height and smiled. ‘I also wanted to say thanks for doing such a great job today.’

 

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