Chapter 16
16
The breakfast meeting is going well. Or at least, it seems that way, unless Andrea is pulling off the most convincing fake Italian accent I’ve ever heard and doesn’t actually have a clue what Beppe is saying to him. But I highly doubt it, don’t you?
‘So, to summarise, Beppe wants to bring a taste of Italian home cooking to British supermarkets,’ Andrea explains to us. ‘He’s looking for an ad campaign that will showcase Italy’s offerings and appeal to the UK market. He wants to capture their hearts and their stomachs.’
‘Okay, that sounds promising,’ Rick nods, clearly pleased with the direction. ‘Does he have an idea of what he wants the campaign to involve, or does he want us to come up with a few ideas for him to choose from?’
Andrea relays Rick’s words to Beppe – in Italian, of course – then waits for his reply.
‘ Aspetta ,’ Andrea tells Beppe, turning back to Rick.
‘He’s open to ideas and trusts your expertise – you are the experts, after all,’ Andrea tells us. ‘However, he is very keen on the idea of seeing multiple options before making a decision on which one he feels is right for Come a Casa.’
‘Got it,’ Rick replies, jotting down notes. ‘We’ll brainstorm some diverse concepts to present to him.’
‘He also wants to know if we can do this quite quickly?’ Andrea adds. ‘He says he can review proposals by the end of next week.’
‘Then tell him we can deliver initial pitches asap,’ Rick replies. ‘That won’t be a problem for this lot.’
‘Beppe also says that perhaps everyone could visit Come a Casa headquarters, to see what they’re about, sample the food – to help the team find inspiration,’ Andrea continues on Beppe’s behalf.
Okay, now that’s something I can get on board with. In fact, I think we should always get to sample any products we’re trying to market; it just makes sense… Unless it’s something I don’t like, of course.
‘Beppe says he’s going – shall I walk him to his car?’ Andrea offers.
‘That would be great, Andrea, thanks,’ Rick replies.
We say our goodbyes – as best we can, with the language barrier – and then wait until we’re alone.
Now it’s just me, Rick (plus Julie, who is sitting silently behind him as per), James, Liz, Cait and Henry.
Rick claps his hands together, making one of the loudest slapping noises I think I’ve ever heard – it sounds like it hurt.
‘All right, team, let’s get those creative juices flowing. We have a golden opportunity here,’ Rick says, trying to hype us up. ‘I don’t care if you work individually, in pairs, or what, but what I want is at least three pitches. Get yourselves into your teams, get inspired, and come up with three killer ideas, capiche?’
I wonder if Italians actually say ‘capiche’ – I highly doubt it. I’m sure it’s more of an American-Italian mobster thing. Still, he’s trying, I suppose.
‘Got it,’ James replies with a smirk, clearly amused by Rick’s enthusiasm.
‘Consider it done,’ Liz adds with determination.
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Cait nods in agreement.
‘Totally on board with that,’ Henry adds.
Ah, fuck. I am always last when this happens and, by the time it’s my turn, I can’t think of a single original thing to say.
‘Yeah!’ I just say, with cheerleader levels of enthusiasm, not that it comes across all that well, I’m sure.
Thankfully Rick doesn’t make anything of it. I can see the mocking smile creeping across Liz’s lips, though.
‘All right, then. Go get on with it,’ Rick commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.
As I notice Andrea on his way back, I decide to make my way over to meet him instead.
‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I suggest with a smile. ‘I fancy stretching my legs.’
‘ Va bene ,’ he replies, his Italian accent adding a charming twist to his words. ‘Okay, I mean.’
I smile to myself. There is something so incredibly sexy about the little bursts of Italian that pepper Andrea’s perfect English. It just gives everything he says so much charm and personality.
‘Let’s go this way,’ I suggest, steering us towards the main hotel.
The gentle sound of the fountains greets us as we pass by, and I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere. The scent of fresh flowers mingles with the crisp air – even the fountain water smells good, somehow. This place really is a dream.
‘Okay, so, I know it’s not exactly part of the deal, but do you think you could help me with my pitch?’ I ask him. ‘It sounds like Beppe wants something authentically Italian, and I really want to win the pitch, and it turns out I know a guy who is both Italian and a foodie…’
A smile lights up Andrea’s face, which is a relief.
‘Of course, it sounds like fun,’ he replies eagerly. ‘Actually, I have a request for you too.’
‘Oh?’ I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden request, although it’s not like I can say no to anything now, is it? Not after asking another favour of him.
‘My parents would like to invite you for dinner,’ he explains, smiling in a way that acknowledges how weird it ultimately is. ‘They suggested tonight, at our family restaurant. They’re eager to get to know you better, but the good thing is that they don’t speak English, so all the translating will buy us time to reply.’
I laugh at the thought of Andrea trying to navigate the conversation over dinner, in a mixture of English and Italian. In a way, it takes the pressure off me.
‘Lucia might join us, along with her future husband,’ he adds. ‘She speaks good English, but she’s very nice, and she’s too distracted with her wedding plans. What do you say?’
‘You had me at dinner,’ I joke. ‘Plus, I’m dying to see your family’s restaurant.’
‘Okay, great!’ Andrea beams, his enthusiasm infectious.
‘ Va bene ,’ I respond, hoping I got that right.
‘Wow, very good,’ Andrea replies encouragingly. ‘We’ll make an Italian out of you yet, huh?’
I smile, probably way too proud of myself for that one. I feel a mixture of nerves and excitement for tonight, at the thought of meeting (properly, knowing all of the facts) and getting to know Andrea’s family, and finally getting to see the restaurant that I have heard so much about over the years.
Plus, this might also help me with my work, giving me a unique insight into Italian food and culture that the others just won’t be able to experience while we’re here.
I definitely owe Andrea, that’s for sure, so I will turn up and I will do my best.
And Andrea is right. How much trouble can I get myself into, if I don’t even speak Italian?
Nine out of ten times, it’s my mouth that gets me in trouble anyway.
I’m sure it will be fine – hell, I might even enjoy it.