Flipped (Better With Prosecco Book 1)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  Adam and Isabella were in front of him on the stairs and he took up the rear. The climb was dark and long and he felt weird prickles of uneasiness; untraceable to any thought or feeling, just a generalized anxiety. Then he saw a bright archway up ahead and soothed himself with the assurance they were almost there. Almost out in the open again. Adam and Isabella had turned into the doorway and walked out onto the bell tower level ahead of him. He stepped into the light, turned left, looked down, and froze. He'd emerged from the Tower on the tilted side. Because of the angle of the tilt the railing that would normally be at waist height, providing a barrier between him and the expansive green lawn below, was instead at his knees. The ground below him spun, and he felt his balance teetering. He plastered himself against the wall and looked up at the sky, but the cloudless blue above him felt like a vacuum sucking him upwards. He was frozen and about to faint and fall off of the Tower of Pisa. Apparently his new fear of cameras came with a side of terror of heights and a dash of vertigo.

  The man behind him on the stairwell bumped into him as he turned the corner, and Dean tightened his grip on the wall.

  “You alright, mate?” the man asked in a thick, cockney accent. “Wait a minute, ain’t you that guy? You’re the Rolling Thunder bloke!” The man was now scrambling to lift his beer belly so he could get into his fanny pack. He pulled out a notepad and pen, shoving it into Dean’s face when he didn’t reach out to take it. How could he, he couldn’t look down. “‘Ow about an autograph for my daughter then, mate?”

  “Excuse me, excuse me,” it was Adam, thank God, leaning past Isabella to place his hand on Dean’s arm. “You’re mistaken sir, this man is not Dean McLean, but he gets it all the time. Move along.” The man gave Adam a dirty look, and lingered, but then pushed past Dean to continue around the outside of the Tower, headed for the last interior stairwell that would take him to the top. Good old Adam. He could always count on Adam to be there. He’d help him get down. “Looks like you aren’t enjoying this buddy. No worries. Izzy and I will just pop to the top to have a look and we’ll come down and get you afterwards. Just step around him folks,” Adam said to the people in the doorway, waving his arms around Dean's frozen, rigid body, and they did.

  “But Adam…” Deans’ voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. But it was too late. Adam was gone. And Dean was stuck with his vertigo, plastered against the Tower, unable to move.

  38

  Hazel

  Hazel and Liz were sweating to death on the patio of a touristy restaurant at the edge of the main square in Pisa. The food was horrible, and the prices were worse, but neither of them noticed. Hazel stirred her tepid ravioli around her plate and tried not to embarrass herself by crying in public.

  “I couldn’t tell you all of this over the phone, Hay! Everyone was there, and I was too pissed to keep my voice down. Not like I give a crap if they hate me at this point, because I swear to God I’m quitting. I tell you, I’m spitting bullets.”

  “But I don’t get it Liz.” Hazel reached for her napkin and pressed it hard into her left eye socket, then her right. “You told them about the emails, right? I mean, they can’t deny the emails?”

  “Apparently, they can. Samuel’s jerk hacker friend, Michael Blackwell, the guy who hacked your presentation in the first place? He’s made all the emails disappear. The board knows they were there. They know it!” Liz slammed her glass down on the table and the water jumped like a jack-in-the-box and went straight back into the glass. She didn’t spill a drop. “I should’ve known. When it came right down to it I'm working in a boys’ club. I'm a second-class citizen. I’ve had my suspicions over the years but now it’s confirmed. They circled the wagons around William Blackwell and his spoiled nephew and put Samuel up on a pedestal. The client loves him anyway, so now they love him too.”

  “But they all know me too, Liz. I’ve worked for the company for years. Don't they trust me? Do they think I'm just making it all up?”

  “Oh, Hazel! I love you, sweetie, but that's a bit naïve. They’ve chosen to ignore the evidence and cast you in the role of a sour grapes loser. This is the easy way out for them. No feathers get ruffled, no secrets get spilled.”

  “So I’ve got no chance for the partnership then?” It was a dumb question. She knew it was a dumb question, she just needed to get everything out there.

  Liz gave Hazel a doe-eyed look of sympathy and got up from her seat. She leaned over Hazel’s chair and pulled her into a deep hug. It felt good, and she gripped her friend back, hard. She was so lucky to have Liz on her side. Even if they couldn't do anything about it.

  “You’ve worked so hard for this, and I'm gutted for you, Hay, I truly am. It’s not fair!" Liz stepped back to her chair, sat down and took a big swig of wine. "But there's another reason I wanted to talk face to face. Hear me out. I want to fight this! You said you had printouts of the emails. I want to get a lawyer and fight this for you. And then, like I said, I'm quitting."

  Her heart swelled at her friend's loyalty, but there was no way she would sue. The moment Liz had said the word she'd seen her life stretch out before her. She imagined years of lawyer's offices, judges and stress. Lots and lots of stress. “You can’t quit, Liz,” Hazel said, giving her best-friend's hand a squeeze. “That’s your company. You're one of the original partners. That job is your life.”

  Now Liz looked like she would cry. “But how can I go on working with these people knowing them for what they are? I mean Samuel’s behavior is not just some silly fraternity prank that his Daddy has to bail him out of. This is criminal behavior. Criminal. Plus, how can I feel safe in my job knowing what they're capable of? No, I’m quitting, but not while your lawsuit is running. I’m sticking around as a spy until it’s over.”

  Hazel gave up on her ravioli and dropped her fork, it clattered into the bowl. “I can’t sue, Liz. I love you for wanting to fight with me but that would be a nightmare."

  "It would be tough, but we could handle it. You need your job." Now Hazel's tears slipped over her lids, because Liz didn't know the half of it. Liz's face dropped. "Don't cry, Hay. We can do this. We can fight this together!"

  "There’s so much more to this. Everything’s a mess. I just found out that somehow, someway, Indigo has lost all the money for the renovations. That means I don’t have the cash to fix up and flip the house, let alone pay for some fancy lawyer. And Dean’s gone all funny on me and I think it’s my fault. I was awful to him when I was struggling with Indigo's news. I don’t know what to expect from him and it’s killing me. Is this a summer fling? Is he going back to LA next week? I’m all messed up.” She pushed the napkin back into her eye sockets again but the wet kept leaking out the sides.

  Liz glanced at her watch, “Crap!” She gathered up her bags. “Oh God, I'm sorry! I’m like the worst friend ever, but I’m not supposed to be here. If I’m late for this meeting tonight, I'll get fired which will totally destroy our leverage. We'll deal with the movie star issue later, on the phone, and together we’ll find a way to get money for a lawyer. I’ll empty out my savings account if I need to. We can’t let these guys get away with this. I can’t stand the thought that I’ve given them all my blood, sweat and tears, and this is the kind of people they are. I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  And with that Liz threw some Euros on the table, kissed her cheek and was off down the sidewalk.

  Hazel sat at the table for another half an hour trying to decide what to do next. She dreaded going back to the house because what she wanted most was Dean. She wanted to tell him what happened and for him to hug her while she cried her eyes out over how unfair everything was. She wasn't a wimp. There had been tough times in her past and she'd always made it through. But right now she couldn't see a way forward or a way out. She reached over for Liz's napkin so she could wipe her eyes again; hers was soaked through.

  "Excuse me?" A guy in an Izod polo, a camera round his neck and a family hovering behind him, was standing over her table.r />
  "Yes?" She gave him a trembling smile, but he wasn't fooled. He'd clearly seen her crying.

  "I hope you don't mind me interrupting your lunch. It's just that Chloe doesn't want to go up the tower."

  She frowned in confusion. Who was Chloe and why would she care? "Sorry?"

  He held out a small strip of paper. "So we have an extra ticket. To climb the tower. I thought maybe you could use it. I lined up for two hours this morning to get it. I wouldn't like for it to go to waste."

  Well, at least it would get her out of this chair. And it was something she'd always wanted to do. "Thank you." She reached out for the ticket. "I'd love to use it."

  39

  Dean

  Dean was still frozen. He couldn't pry his fingers loose from the side of the tower. If Adam didn't come back soon he might throw up. The tourists from his group had finished admiring the scenery from the tower peak above him and now filed past a petrified and frozen Dean to go back down to the heavenly ground. Dean couldn’t believe Adam had left him standing there. He’d hoped that this feeling of total terror that had taken over his body would fade away but no such luck. The only way he was keeping himself from keeling over was to make sure he focused all of his attention on the sky.

  "Hey, aren't you Dean McLean?" The woman leaned toward him and examined his face like he was a painting. He was so frozen he couldn't even turn his head to the side to avoid the wine on her breath.

  "Mmmm," he said, focusing all of his attention on not throwing up.

  Wine woman must have taken his grunt as a friendly gesture because she smiled and clapped.

  "Let's take a selfie!!"

  "Mmmm," he grunted again.

  He didn't move, but the woman was undaunted. She turned and pressed herself against the wall under his arm, "Say cheese!" He tried to smile but could only grimace. His Instagram reputation was ruined.

  The crowd thinned as the rest of his group ambled past him toward the stairway and now, he was alone. Where the heck was Adam? He heard a loud high-pitched squeal pealing out from above his head. Isabella. He’d heard that squeal of excitement a few times, usually when he'd bought her a gift. Then he heard Adam’s booming voice and his affable, friendly laugh. They were enjoying themselves up there on the top of the tower. Enjoying themselves while Dean shivered.

  Isabella bounced around the corner into his sight, oblivious to the deadly drop only inches from her left foot.

  “I can’t believe it, Adam. I just can’t believe it. You are one smart, sexy teddy-bear!”

  Smart, sexy teddy bear? What was going on? Dean suddenly felt like he was in the Twilight Zone. He was frozen to the top of a tower, the ground spinning below him, and his ex-girlfriend was flirting with his best friend right in front of him.

  Adam turned the corner and moved straight to Dean. He gave him his best, big brother, encouraging smile. Dean had seen it many times when he was down. Adam said, “Got something to tell you buddy. I hope you can be happy for me.”

  Dean tried to direct his gaze to Adam but got an eyeful of the green lawn far below him instead. He threw his head back against the wall. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, you know we came here to bring you back. It looked like the deal with Christopher Brooks had fallen through and the director told us he was losing patience. We needed you to come back and finish the shoot." He held his cell phone in front of Dean's face, "But that was Christopher Brook on the phone just now... he’s gonna do it! He’s gonna do it, AND he signed the royalty share agreement! Can you believe it? I planned on broaching the subject with you today on sharing your royalties with me, but now there’s no need.”

  Had he had a stroke up here or something? Adam's words made no sense. It was like he was talking in a foreign language. “What’s Christopher Brook got to do with me?”

  Adam patted him on the shoulder causing him to tighten his grip. His fingers were going numb. “I’m sorry, buddy, but you have no idea how tough it's been. Ed Hardy didn’t want you, you know? He thought you were too high a liability. You should have seen how much the insurance premiums went up after you had your incident. But now there’s nothing to worry about. I knew you’d like it here and you do. And now you have a girlfriend and she sounds like a great woman. So great news, you can stay!”

  “Stay? Stay here? In Italy?” Dean shook his head. He must be having some kind of episode. Was he hearing what Adam was saying? His best friend Adam? Was he telling him he’d given his job away?

  “Yeah… here. You can stay here. Christopher will take over the role and he agreed to a royalty share. I never got that from your contract you know, you’ve made millions from the part I got you. Not that I’m unhappy. I love you man, you know that.”

  “You love me? You love me, so you’re going to ruin my career?”

  Adam laughed. “Ruin your career? You’ve been bitching about this job for the last two years. You hate it, Dean.”

  Dean was stunned. Did Adam think that? Yeah sure, sure he’s been complaining a lot. Maybe sometimes he didn’t enjoy his role as a superstar. Truthfully, when he compared it to the satisfaction he got from carpentry, - he didn’t enjoy his work. But his job was his life. He didn’t have anything else. Surely Adam understood all that.

  “I don’t hate it.” He squeezed out. He had forgotten Isabella was standing at his shoulder until she chimed in.

  “Of course you hate it, Dean,” she said, “What do you think these stupid fainting fits are about? There’s no way you’ll be able to go back in front of a camera. I told Adam that when he said he wanted to bring you back, but he said we had to try.”

  “We?” Dean turned to look at Isabella, felt his head spin, and gripped the wall harder. “Since when are you two a ‘we’?”

  “Don’t worry, I moved out darling - as soon as you broke up with me. I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

  Dean turned back to Adam. Amazingly, he realized he wasn’t angry. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of disappointment. Suddenly everything that had happened in his life until now seemed like a complete farce. Everything had been a lie.

  He gave Adam a weak smile. “So this is it, huh? You ruin my career, steal my girlfriend, but just pat me on the back and say, ‘see ya later’. You think everything’s fine?”

  Adam looked at Dean with a puzzled frown. Dean couldn’t believe he was puzzled.

  “How is everything not fine? You had a great career, and I helped you quit when it got too much for you. You’ve got more money than you know what to do with, and more will pour in for the rest of your life thanks to your royalty shares. You’ve got a new girlfriend and I will look after your old one so you don't have to feel guilty there. I’m your buddy, Dean. You know I look out for you. Always have.”

  How could he have been so clueless? Now the anger came; anger and frustration at his own naivety. “I want you both out of my sight, now. Just go!”

  Isabella shared a look with Adam who shrugged and said, “Don’t worry. He’ll come around. Come on.”

  Adam crossed in front of him and accidentally bumped his shoulder. Dean gasped in fear. Isabella turned to stand directly in front of him. “Goodbye, darling!” she said. Her eyes filled with tears. Dean wanted her out of here. He could hear a new batch of tourists about to exit onto this platform and he wanted to get help before they emerged, but Isabella had a film scene in her mind she needed to play out. She cupped her hand under his chin and he couldn’t let go of the wall to bat it away. She gave a deep sigh and her lower lip trembled. Dean hadn’t realized she was such a good actress.

  Isabella leaned in to kiss him full on the mouth, and Hazel turned the corner.

  40

  Hazel

  The mountain of wet tissues in front of Hazel was growing. The scribbled to-do lists and shopping receipts spread about the kitchen table were now hidden under a growing pile of tears.

  Indigo had her chair scootched as close to Hazel's as she could and was rubbing her back with long
soothing strokes. Indigo could be difficult but Hazel loved her mother. She'd walked in here this morning, seen Hazel crying and hadn't said a word. She'd been sitting with her now for ten minutes without saying a word.

  Hazel put her out of her misery. "I had lunch with Liz yesterday."

  Indigo stopped stroking and banged her other hand on the table, tissues jumping. "I knew it! Liz again! That girl is out to get you, sweetie."

  "No mother, the girl on top of the Leaning Tower of Pisa making out with my supposed boyfriend has it out for me."

  "What?" Indigo rubbed again. "You're not making sense. What would Dean be doing making out with another girl? He loves you."

  "First of all, Dean has never said any such thing. Second, I don't know. But he was there. And he didn't look like he hated it. She must be some kisser. Dean was plastered against the side of that tower like he could melt into it." When Dean and that woman had come into her view she'd frozen, for a full fifteen seconds she couldn't move. She’d stood there watching them. It had looked so passionate, like a scene from a movie.

  "Wait," Indigo said, "Why were you up on the Tower of Pisa, anyway? And what’s Liz doing in Italy?"

  She sighed. She didn't want to get into this with her mother but she'd started the conversation now. "I was meeting with Liz to see if I could get the company to advance me some cash. But she told me there is no chance of me getting my job back. She said we should sue. I'm doomed."

  "Mmmm... I agree, sweetie," Indigo was staring off into space and clearly hadn't been listening. "I think I need to talk to Stella. Wait here."

  Indigo leapt up from the chair, bashing her shin in the process, and sped out the back door. Even if it seemed sometimes that Indigo didn't have her brain, at least she had her health.

  Hazel hadn’t stuck around to find out who the girl was who was snogging Dean. She'd turned and pushed against the tide of tourists, aching to be back on solid ground. Dean had yelled her name as she tumbled down the worn, sloping, stone steps. If her life were a movie, then he would have come chasing after her with logical explanations. He'd beg for her forgiveness in front of hundreds of iPhone wielding spectators on the lawn of the square. That hadn't happened. He hadn’t followed her. He didn’t care. She was crazy anyway. What made her think a movie star would find anything interesting at all about her. She was a neurotic, uptight mess, and a total plain Jane next to that vision of Hollywood perfection slobbering all over Dean.