A Wedding in Italy: A feel good summer holiday romance (From Italy with Love Book 2)

by Tilly Tennant

  New emails waiting to be read.

  She didn’t get that many but with nothing else to do, she opened the app and checked down the list. Only four, and mostly rubbish, apart from one Jamie had sent. Perhaps it would cheer her up. She opened the email and started to read.

  Hey Princess,

  How’s it going? Are you the president of Italy yet?

  I have some news. Please don’t be angry with me, but Brad and I did something a little crazy. In fact a lot crazy. We got married. In Vegas. We got drunk, and Brad was like, hey, why don’t we just run away to Vegas and do it? I thought he was joking, because he’s always been all about the huge reception with all our family and friends, but the next day when the hangover was gone, the idea still didn’t suck. So, we got in our car and we drove. We had a fun road trip along the way, and Vegas was so cool, I’m so glad we decided to get hitched there. It was amazing, and I’m only sad that our friends and family didn’t get to share the day. But we’re happy, and I hope you’re happy for us. We’ll still get that party, one day, but at least we’re married now. I feel old already just saying that!

  I’ve attached a video that a stripper we met took for us. She acted as witness too, and she was really cool. She could twirl her nipple tassels like you wouldn’t believe.

  I’ll bring my husband over to meet you just as soon as I can. I still can’t get enough of calling him that.

  Jamie x

  Kate clicked on the link he’d attached. The video started. Jamie and Brad were both in white lounge suits, laughing as the camera shook, held clumsily by the unseen stripper. They stood outside a pretty white building, set on emerald lawns, an incongruous red and gold neon sign announcing it to be Cupid’s Wedding Chapel casting its lurid glow across their faces as they kissed. The camera followed them inside, where the requisite Elvis look-a-like ushered them to where the minister waited against a backdrop of white satiny curtains and plinths of plastic roses. He began to speak, and then the camera was deposited on a seat, facing the proceedings, so that Kate could only see their legs with the red velour fabric of the chair in the foreground, and could hear their voices as they made their vows.

  After a few minutes, there was sparse applause and cheering, and then the camera was lifted again as Jamie and Brad kissed to seal their union, which was followed by confetti and more cheering. Whoever was in the tiny audience sounded more than a bit drunk.

  The camera followed them outside again, where it was handed to Jamie, briefly showing the stripper in shot as it was exchanged. She was much older than Kate had imagined a stripper to be – closer to forty than twenty – and she had a face that spoke of a good soul but a hard life. Sadly, or thankfully, depending on which way you looked at it, the nipple tassels were nowhere in sight.

  Jamie thanked her, and then the video was switched off.

  Kate stared at the screen as it went black. They looked so perfect, so joyful in their union, and she wanted to be happy for her friend, who had found his prince at last and had his fairy-tale ending.

  So why, as Kate locked her phone, were there tears of sadness, not joy, pouring down her cheeks?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As bad as Kate felt that Alessandro had come home to so much trouble he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a week, she was grateful for his arms around her, absorbing her sadness and turning it into strength. If ever she had needed that strength, it was now. Despite the entire Conti family wanting to contribute to the discussion, he had also realised that one thing they didn’t need was crowding – at least, not until they had talked about what they were going to do next. He’d taken a huge blanket out onto the balcony, so that he and Kate could look out over the city, huddled under it together, and have a private conversation. Kate went over the events of the now previous day again and then over the plan that Maria had come up with where they would pretend to split up and Kate would lie low while Orazia got bored of the hunt. Maria believed that if Kate was no longer a threat then Orazia wouldn’t bother pressing charges – it was easier not to get bogged down with the paperwork for a start, and Orazia was no fan of administration even when her own job demanded it. Maria had asserted that the only instance that would drive Orazia to go ahead with an official complaint against Kate was if Kate forced her into it by not giving up.

  When she had finished telling him all this, Alessandro shook his head.

  ‘It will not work.’

  Kate felt herself relax. Though she’d been grateful for Maria’s input, it wasn’t a plan she liked, and she was relieved to hear Alessandro say it too. ‘You think Orazia will press charges anyway? That she’ll report me?’

  He tipped his head this way and that, weighing the question up. ‘Perhaps, perhaps not. But we cannot pretend to be apart forever, and when we are together again she will see that it was a lie and that will make her angry. If you think she is angry now, you should see her when she is very angry.’

  ‘The kind of angry that tricking her into thinking we’ve split up will make her?’ Kate gave an inward shudder. That was an Orazia she didn’t want to meet. ‘What if we could somehow prove that she framed me at work – lost me the job at Piccolo Castelli?’

  ‘It would be difficult unless her cousin was willing to confess. And that would not excuse your actions.’

  Kate gazed out onto the rooftops and streets below. The sun had been up for hours, but the street was still and peaceful. It was difficult to imagine the activity behind every window and door – families just like this one holding strong together through their daily rituals of discussions over meals and communal chores, supporting each other through everything that came their way, instilling the values of family and community into every new generation through word and deed without a clue they were doing it. They were out there, and Kate had felt so lucky to have finally been accepted into this one. Was it really about to be ripped away from her now, when she had worked so hard to become part of it?

  ‘I don’t suppose it would,’ she said quietly. ‘Then it looks as if I’m going to be leaving you soon.’

  ‘There is another way.’

  She looked up at him. The line of his jaw was set, and he gazed out onto the streets himself now as he paused. What was that expression on his face? Regret? Sadness? Kate’s stomach lurched, and before he’d said it she’d already guessed.

  ‘I will follow you to England.’

  Kate stared at him. ‘You can’t do that!’

  ‘You came to Italy for me.’

  ‘That was different – I loved Italy anyway. And I didn’t have anywhere near as much to lose by moving as you have.’

  ‘I have the most important thing to lose, and that is you!’ He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. ‘Ti amo troppo, Kate,’ he breathed. ‘I cannot lose you.’

  ‘But there must be another way!’

  ‘No. If you go, then I go. This is the choice that Orazia will make for us. I will go to her, and I will tell her this, and we will see how far she is willing to go, but she will also see that she can never destroy our love, because no matter where she makes you go I will go too.’

  ‘OK.’ Kate took in a long breath. ‘So, are we going to mention any of this to your family?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said after a heartbeat’s pause. ‘I think we must be honest with them.’

  ‘Your mamma will not like it one bit – she’ll blame me and hate me again.’

  He ran a thumb down her cheek and smiled slightly. ‘She has never hated you. Even Maria did not hate you, but you were. . .’ His sentence tailed off. There were things even he couldn’t deny.

  ‘Different from the future they’d wished for you?’ Kate finished for him.

  ‘Perhaps, yes. But you are my future and they must accept this, even if that future is in England.’

  ‘Your mother is upset enough by what happened to your Uncle Marco. It might finish her off if you tell her this.’

  ‘She is strong, and she will understand. She has many children livin
g close by.’

  ‘You’re her only son, though – I don’t think she’ll understand. If it comes to a fight, I’m still not convinced that she wouldn’t come down on Orazia’s side over mine, particularly if it meant you staying in Rome.’

  ‘I do not love Orazia and I will never love her!’ He took a moment to level his tone again. He was probably sick of Kate whining about Orazia and the threat she posed, and if she was honest, Kate was sick of hearing herself mention it. But that didn’t make it go away. ‘If Orazia was naked and covered in gold I would not want her.’

  They were silent for a moment, and then Kate allowed herself a wry smile. ‘Orazia, naked and covered in gold. . . now there’s a mental picture I don’t need.’

  ‘My heart is your heart. It does not belong to anyone else. Mamma knows this, and you must remember it too.’

  Kate nodded shortly before falling into silent contemplation of the distant rooftops again. It was easy to promise a heart but far harder to keep that promise. When the chips were down, and Alessandro was walking the streets of a cold, rainy Manchester suburb, the leaden skies pressing down on him, the sounds of boy racers zipping up and down in their souped-up hatchbacks, discordant house music blasting from oversized speakers in his ears, knowing that this was now his home, would he be happy? Would he still be quite as keen to follow Kate wherever she went? He could tell her that his heart belonged to her, but she had a rival, and it wasn’t Orazia. Alessandro’s heart belonged to Rome too, and try as Kate might to see the positives in the situation, she couldn’t imagine him being happy anywhere else.

  Hand in hand, they took the path to the entrance of Orazia’s apartment building. Signora Conti had been horrified at Alessandro’s suggestion that he was contemplating a move to England to be with Kate. She had screamed, she had pulled at her hair, swooned, and then regained the strength to scream some more. Ready for a slanging match, perhaps even physical violence, she’d threatened to go and sort the problem herself. But in the end, her children had managed to calm her enough to let Alessandro and Kate go to see Orazia, to try to talk some sense into her and end the campaign of obsessed manipulation and destruction that she seemed so intent on. Not only was it damaging to everyone around her, but if she didn’t stop, she would doubtless get caught in the fallout herself. Alessandro said he owed her that much, as an old friend, to save her from herself, from this twisted version of the girl he once knew, and that was why they had decided to try and talk to her calmly, as friends instead of enemies, to see if they couldn’t salvage something for all their sakes.

  ‘Are you ready?’ Alessandro asked as they paused at the doorbell.

  Kate shook her head, afraid that if she spoke her voice would betray the churning of her stomach.

  ‘It will be OK,’ he replied, squeezing her hand. But then he stopped as his gaze tracked something in the distance, and his eyes narrowed. Before she’d had time to question it, his hand had slipped from Kate’s, and without a word, he began to stride back down the path, away from the building.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Kate asked, chasing after him.

  He stopped at a black car, parked a few metres away from the block. Squinting at the number plate, he sucked his breath through clenched teeth, muttering words Kate had never heard him use before, though walking the streets of Rome had taught her they weren’t generally used in polite company.

  ‘Donato’s car,’ he growled.

  ‘Donato?’ Kate frowned. ‘As in Maria’s husband?’

  ‘Yes.’ His gaze went thoughtfully to the building again, as if trying to x-ray every apartment wall.

  ‘You think he’s in there now?’ Kate asked. ‘I mean, it’s a coincidence, but it’s not really our concern now, is it?’

  ‘It may be.’

  Kate was silent for a moment. And then the realisation came crashing in on her. ‘Wait – you don’t think. . . surely not? You think he was having an affair with Orazia?’ Kate’s voice rose with incredulity. ‘But she’s caused all this trouble trying to get you. If she’s already seeing Maria’s husband, why would she do that?’

  ‘Because she is crazy in the brain,’ Alessandro said through gritted teeth, apparently forgetting any kind of forgiveness or understanding he’d been previously disposed to.

  ‘I thought they were friends,’ Kate insisted. ‘I want to incriminate Orazia as much as anyone but it doesn’t make sense.’

  Alessandro turned to her. ‘Whatever Orazia does makes no sense.’

  ‘Do you think it was going on while Maria was with Donato? Or do you think it’s started since they split?’

  ‘Does it matter which?’

  ‘I think it does.’

  ‘It may be revenge because Maria made friends with you. The hair Maria found in their bed could belong to another woman – he does not care where he drops his trousers, but he likes to drop them often and with many women.’

  They were silent again, watching the building side by side. Kate could feel the barely contained anger in the air between them, as if it was pulsing through Alessandro’s skin.

  ‘We don’t actually know that’s what’s happening,’ she said finally. ‘It could be that he’s visiting someone else – a friend, new girlfriend, family. . . there’s a lot of conjecture going on here.’

  ‘Come.’ Alessandro started off towards the building, long purposeful strides that Kate was practically jogging to keep up with. ‘We will find out.’

  There was no reply from the buzzer.

  ‘Perhaps she’s not home,’ Kate whispered, almost hopefully. This was turning into a showdown she was no longer sure she wanted.

  ‘She is home,’ Alessandro replied as he pushed at the main doors. With a click, they gave under his pressure and opened. The smell of cleaning products flooded out, strong in her nostrils. Either they hadn’t been locked in the first place, or Alessandro was really bloody angry. She followed him inside and let the door close behind her again.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Kate asked.

  Her only reply was the sound of his heavy steps as he took the stairs, two at a time, leaving her to run after him. For the first time ever, she almost felt sorry for Orazia, and even sorrier for Donato. If they really were up there together, she wouldn’t wish Alessandro’s fury on either of them. Chasing down a criminal was one thing, but when people messed with his beloved family, the law went out of the window, along with all its rules.

  At the third floor he turned into the corridor and stopped at a door, thumping at it. There was no reply. He banged his fist again.

  ‘I don’t think she’s in,’ Kate said, catching his arm as he went for the door a third time. ‘Wait.’ Bending to the letterbox, she flicked it open and peered in. There were signs of someone having been in recently – or at least not cleaning up what they’d used last: an opened wine bottle on a table along with two half-full glasses, a jacket hanging over a nearby chair and, most tellingly, a tie draped over it. But all was quiet. ‘Orazia,’ Kate called tentatively. It wasn’t that she relished the thought of facing her adversary again so soon after their last encounter, but the only way to be certain Orazia wasn’t simply hiding from visitors was to present her with the one visitor she wouldn’t be able to resist opening the door to. ‘Are you in there?’

  Kate stepped back and waited, casting anxious glances between Alessandro and the door. But then the sound of a chain being drawn back reached them, and the door was flung open to reveal a furious-looking Orazia, a dressing gown wrapped around her.

  ‘What do you. . .’ Her sentence trailed off as she caught sight of Alessandro. But then she rallied again, and the sneer reappeared. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘To talk,’ Kate said. ‘This business has got out of hand and we need to sort it.’

  ‘I will!’ Orazia spat. ‘You will be leaving Italy soon, for good.’

  Before Kate could reply, Alessandro shoved past Orazia and into the flat. Orazia hissed a curse in Italian and hurried after him. But he had alr
eady snatched up the jacket and tie, shaking it at her, his face twisted in disgust. ‘What is this?’ he growled.

  She gave a nonchalant shrug, but nobody was fooled by it. ‘You do not love me, so you will not care if I sleep with somebody else.’

  For a moment, Kate was faced with the horrific possibility that Alessandro was going to hit Orazia, and a darned sight harder than she had. He stood, almost shaking with rage, and they squared up to each other in a way that was so tense Kate could barely watch for fear of what might happen next. But then Alessandro seemed to gain control, and he stepped back. Reaching into the inside pocket of the jacket, he produced a wallet and opened it. A quick check over the contents, and then he held it up with a sardonic smile.

  ‘You would betray your good friend,’ he said in a low voice. She ran to grab him, but it was too late. He was already at the bedroom door and threw it open to reveal Maria’s husband, Donato, sitting on the edge of the bed. At least he’d had the decency to get his trousers back on and he looked up at them, half sheepish, half in abject terror, but there was no mistaking the guilt written on his face.

  Alessandro regaled him with a choice array of swearwords, accompanied by quite a few gestures he must have learned on the seedier streets of Rome, but then, with a final look of absolute contempt, he simply closed the door again and turned to Orazia.

  ‘You will leave Kate alone. You will leave me alone. That is all I have come to say.’

  ‘Kate hit me!’ she said, rubbing her cheek. Alessandro yanked her hand away.

  ‘There is no mark,’ he said. ‘Kate will deny it.’

  ‘I have witnesses!’

  ‘Then let them come forward. But if they do, I will tell everybody about you and Donato.’

  ‘You cannot prove anything,’ Orazia said stubbornly. ‘This is the first time we have been in the same room alone.’