THIRTEEN
‘WE HAVE TO CELEbrATE!’ Gio declares as he drives us through Hampstead. I’ve never driven through London before, never even used a taxi or Uber. It’s always been the tube or buses, but tonight we’re back in his Maserati, listening to an alternating playlist of Taylor Swift and Italian metal. It turns out we have wildly different tastes in music.
‘We already are!’ I protest. ‘A new restaurant launch sounds like a celebration to me.’
‘But we ought to do something just for you.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘Yes, there is,’ he insists. ‘You passed all of your exams! You have to at least let me buy you a present.’
‘Fine.’ I hold a hand up, as he opens his mouth again. ‘Surprise me.’
I can’t help but laugh at his thwarted expression. I told him my results somewhere around Stevenage and he’s been congratulating me ever since. Personally, I still can’t believe it. I didn’t do as well as Ava, who got a first, but after all my panic and doubts I got a 2.1 overall. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted and I can breathe again. There’s no way that Dr Meyer will make me repeat the year now, so all I have to do is finish my essay, then my degree will be back on track. I already have a draft based on my research so far. An interview with Leon should finish it off.
I almost feel like I have two essays to complete, since I seem to be writing a case study on Gio as well. I can’t help it. I want to understand what motivates him and how he got over his accident. I guess that’s another reason why I agreed to continue this charade. Since our conversation at the karting track, I feel more emotionally invested in helping him too. I still wish I knew why he’s so weird about Farron, but now I know why he’s so sensitive about his dad at least I can understand why he behaves like a dick sometimes. I also respect the fact that he’s trying to do something about it through therapy and that he was so open about it. Basically, I guess I just like him more. It feels like we really are friends now.
‘So you said the restaurant is your cousin’s?’ I ask, because we must be almost there.
‘Yes. Nadia is my mother’s sister’s daughter.’ He smiles fondly as he says her name. ‘She used to be a model, then she trained as a chef in Paris and now she’s opening a restaurant here, specializing in food from the Veneto region. That’s where my mother grew up.’
‘Before she became a world-famous actress, you mean?’
‘World famous?’ He makes a sceptical sound. ‘Euro-famous, maybe.’
‘That’s still pretty famous. Ava and I watched Ginevra a couple of weeks ago and she was incredible. So fragile and terrifying at the same time.’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen it.’
‘What?’ I twist in my seat, almost dislocating my jaw as I gape at him. ‘How is that possible? Your mother is one of the most famous Italian actresses of all time and you’ve never seen her biggest film?’
‘You mean the one where she gets naked with half a dozen men before stabbing them all to death?’
‘Oh. Well, when you put it like that, I guess it would be a little weird.’ I wrinkle my nose. ‘Now I feel weird for watching it.’
‘You shouldn’t. People tell me it’s a good film. I don’t like it for other reasons.’
‘Such as?’
He gives me a sidelong look, as we stop at a traffic light. ‘She was only seventeen when she made that film.’
‘No way! She seemed so mature.’
‘She’s a good actress. The truth is, she’d had a pretty sheltered life before then. She’d never even thought about acting, but a casting director spotted her in Venice and decided she had the perfect face for Ginevra .’ He says the word like he hates it. ‘My grandparents were good people, but gullible. They thought the producers who promised to protect her actually meant it.’
‘Oh.’ I have a horrible feeling this story is about to get a lot darker. ‘What happened?’
‘When the film came out, she became a sex symbol overnight. The press called her the new Brigitte Bardot. It messed her up for a long time. Drink, drugs, two failed marriages before she was twenty-three, and the only parts she was offered were basically more of the same.’ His lip curls. ‘ Ginevra made her a star, but it ruined her life too. So after her second divorce, she gave up acting and became a virtual recluse.’
‘How awful. But if she became a recluse, how did she ever meet your dad?’
‘They met before that, when she was doing promo for a different film. He says it was love at first sight. For him, anyway.’
‘But not her?’
‘No. She’d become so suspicious of everybody, she would only talk with him on the phone at first. It took him six months to persuade her to go on a date. Then another month to convince her to see him again. It was four years before she agreed to marry him.’
‘So he waited for her?’ I clasp my hands together. ‘That’s so romantic.’
‘He says some people are worth waiting for.’
‘That’s … lovely.’ I have to swallow an emotional lump in my throat. ‘Is she still a recluse?’
He makes a strained sound. ‘Not entirely, but she doesn’t go out very often. I wish she would, but it’s her decision.’ He shakes his head like he doesn’t want to think about it any longer. ‘Now your turn. Tell me about your parents. How did they meet?’
‘Cycling.’ I turn my face aside, looking out at the bright neon lights of the city. ‘They both used to compete. My dad almost made the Olympic team one year.’
‘So you’re from a sporting family too?’
‘Not quite at the same level, but I guess so.’ I tilt my head. It’s funny – when Gio and I first met, our worlds seemed so far apart. I would never have thought we had anything in common. But the more I get to know him, the more I realize we do.
‘I’m very sorry about your mother,’ he says suddenly.
I twist my face back round. ‘Bo told you, as part of the background check he did on me?’
‘Yes. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that too.’
‘It’s OK, I understand.’ I click my tongue. ‘It was breast cancer. Almost seven years ago now. She was only forty-two. After that, it was just me and my dad.’
‘That must have made you close?’
‘It did, until …’ I stop talking abruptly because there’s a pain in my chest, a feeling of something like homesickness. We were really close, right up until my accident … ‘Anyway, he remarried two years ago. I have a stepmum and stepsister now.’
‘Have you told them about me?’
‘What?’ I’m caught off guard by the question. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
I open my mouth and then close it again. Why haven’t I told them? I know there’s a chance either Briony or Daisy might find out about us on social media – my dad doesn’t do any except Strava – but I guess I’m hoping they won’t. ‘I don’t want to lie to them,’ I admit. ‘It’s one thing to lie to the press, but it’s different with people you care about. That’s why it’s a good thing Ava’s working so much. Every time I see her I feel so guilty about not telling her the truth.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He sounds like he means it.
‘What about you?’ I turn the question round. ‘Have you told your family?’
‘I had to. My mother basically stalks me online. She’s desperate to meet you.’
‘ What? ’ Suddenly I’m gaping again.
‘She’s invited us to stay during my summer break.’
‘Stay where?’
‘Lombardy, close to Monza. My parents have an eighteenth-century villa there.’ He pauses. ‘And a vineyard.’
‘Wait, are you seriously telling me that I’ve been invited to stay in an Italian villa with an unlimited supply of wine this summer?’
‘My mother’s an incredible cook too.’
‘Don’t tempt me.’ I catch my breath. ‘Unless … couldn’t you tell her the truth about us? Surely your mother would keep our secret.’
‘She’d plan to.’ He sighs. ‘Then she’d tell my sister, and the entire city of Milan would find out in less than a week.’
‘But … a villa … and wine … and sunshine …’
‘I know.’ He makes a regretful face as he pulls up to the kerb outside a modern, red-brick building with large bow windows. ‘Here we are. Ready?’
I peer out with trepidation. About a dozen people are milling about on the pavement, as well as several photographers. ‘What would you do if I said no?’
‘I’d say it’s your choice, and take you home again. Then Nadia would kill me tomorrow.’
‘Ouch. I guess I’d better be ready, then.’
‘I appreciate that.’ He winks and climbs out of the car, handing his keys to a parking valet as he comes round to open my door.
‘Maisie!’ Somebody calls my name as I step out on to the pavement. There’s a slightly awkward moment when I manage to step on Gio’s foot, but he doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to steady myself.
I promised myself on the journey here that I wouldn’t get flustered, but it’s hard not to when so many eyes and cameras are suddenly focused in my direction. Ava styled my hair into a classy updo and I bought a new, dark-blue dress for the occasion, but I still feel underdressed beside Gio, who looks impressively sardonic in a black shirt and black suit.
I feel hyper-sensitive too, aware of every single detail around me. Most of all, I’m aware of Gio: the gentle press of his fingers against the small of my back, the musky scent of his cologne, not to mention the warmth of his breath as we put our faces together and pose for the cameras. After our argument, I assumed I’d feel more relaxed in close proximity to him, but now I think I may have miscalculated. If anything, I’m even more affected, though it’s probably just nerves because of the cameras.
‘You’re doing great,’ he whispers against the shell of my ear.
‘Thanks,’ I murmur, placing a hand on his chest because my legs are beginning to feel like jelly. ‘How long do we have to stand here?’
‘That should do it.’ He flexes his fingers against my spine as he steps forward, guiding me towards the door.
‘Gio!’ A woman with long burgundy curls breaks away from a group of people to greet us.
‘Nadia!’ Gio envelopes her in a bear hug before turning to introduce me. ‘This is my girlfriend, Maisie. Maisie, my cousin Nadia.’
‘Maisie –’ Nadia kisses me on both cheeks – ‘I’m so pleased you could join us. Come inside. You have to see what we’ve done with the place. I’m so excited to show everyone!’ She takes us through a crowded vestibule into a bigger room, presumably the restaurant, although there are only a few tables tonight. ‘What do you think?’
I look around, impressed. The decor is a tasteful combination of traditional and modern, with dark wooden floorboards, understated lighting, one wall made entirely of wine bottles, and the others painted the same shade as Nadia’s hair. It would be absolutely perfect for an intimate dinner. Even better, I spy Gio’s performance coach, Leon, on the other side of the room.
‘It’s amazing,’ I say.
‘Thank you. It’s a labour of love. I’ve dreamed of opening my own restaurant for years.’
‘Champagne?’ Gio hands me a flute. ‘Don’t drop it.’
‘Ha ha.’ I stick my tongue out at him. ‘That’s how we met,’ I explain to his cousin. ‘He made me drop a whole tray of it.’
‘Typical. He’s always been the troublemaker in the family. You’ll have to come for a private dinner some time so I can tell you all the stories.’ Nadia laughs, then puts a hand on his arm. ‘But thank you for coming tonight, Gio. It means a lot.’
‘Have I ever let you down?’
‘Never.’ She waves down a man with a tray. ‘Now have some food. Fiori di zucca fritti . Fried courgette flowers.’
‘ Grazie .’ I pick one up and take a bite. ‘Oh wow, that tastes amazing.’
‘It’s from our grandmother’s recipe.’
‘Aren’t you going to have one?’ I look at Gio, but his gaze is fixed on my mouth. There’s something unguarded about his expression, something that causes a heady tremor in me. I lick my lips before I realize what I’m doing.
‘Maybe later.’ He gives a small cough.
‘Massimo’s waving to you.’ Nadia nudges him.
‘Where?’ He drags his gaze away from me, looks across the room and grins. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment?’
‘Of course.’ I wave him away. ‘You can leave me with the food. I’ll be totally fine.’
‘Massimo’s my boyfriend,’ Nadia explains. ‘We’ve been together for so long, sometimes I think Gio forgets which one of us is his actual cousin.’ She smiles affectionately as the two men hug. ‘So how long have you two been seeing each other?’
‘Not long,’ I say, reaching for another courgette flower. ‘We met a few weeks ago when he was recording a podcast.’
‘You were carrying a tray of champagne during a podcast?’ She tips her head to one side.
‘Hmm? Oh, no.’ I backtrack quickly. ‘That was after. Or maybe before. I’m not sure …’ I stop talking because she seems distracted suddenly, which is a relief because I’m babbling, although judging by her expression it’s not the good kind of distraction.
‘What’s wrong?’ I follow her gaze towards a woman standing in the doorway. Owning the room. It takes me a moment to recognize her because she’s even more stunning in real life than she is in pictures, with poker-straight blonde hair and a strapless dress that looks like a scrap of tin foil. It’s so tiny I’m amazed it’s staying up at all. Maybe it really is tin foil?
‘It’s Iris.’ Nadia looks mortified. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d show. I’ll talk to her.’
‘It’s fine!’ I lie, taking a large mouthful of champagne, because if a supermodel is about to waltz in and show up the many differences between us, I’m going to need a lot more alcohol. ‘I don’t mind if Gio doesn’t.’
‘That’s the problem. He definitely will.’
‘What will I mind?’ Gio chooses this moment to reappear, accompanied by Massimo. If the smile on his face is any indication, he hasn’t seen Iris yet.
‘We have a problem.’ Nadia gestures towards the door. ‘It’s my fault. I invited her ages ago when you were together. It never occurred to me she’d still show up.’
‘We’re leaving.’ Gio’s face shuts down.
‘You can’t!’ Nadia sounds panicked. ‘Just give me a moment. I’ll talk to her. Please?’
‘Hey, why don’t I give you and your girlfriend a tour of the kitchen?’ Massimo wraps an arm round Gio’s shoulders. He’s all smiles, though I can see the serious expression in his eyes. ‘You’re our number one investor, after all.’
‘OK.’ Gio looks hard at Nadia. ‘Please, make it quick.’
She goes to intercept Iris while we head towards a door at the back of the room. ‘This is where the magic happens,’ Massimo tells us, leading us into a stainless steel kitchen. ‘We take raw ingredients and turn them into art. As for this …’ He ushers us into a cramped office. ‘ This is where we beat a tactical retreat from unwanted guests.’
‘Not that it’s any of my business …’ I say, looking at Gio. ‘But wouldn’t it be better to talk to your ex rather than hide?’ Not that I like that idea either, but I’ve no right to be jealous …
‘No.’ He rubs a knuckle between his brows. ‘She doesn’t want to talk – trust me.’
‘Why not?’
He collapses on to a leather armchair tucked into one corner and sighs. ‘Because it was a bad break-up. Remember what I said on Ava’s podcast, about how some people want to beat me just because of my name? Well, there are some people who want to be seen with me for the same reason. Iris’s one of those. She’ll do anything for publicity.’
‘What do you mean?’ I perch on the edge of the desk, taken aback by the note of bitterness in his voice.
‘When we were dating, I couldn’t understand how tabloid photographers always seemed to know where we were, so Bo did some digging and it turned out she was tipping them off. I confronted her, and in revenge she sold a story about us. Most of it was completely made up, but it was her word against mine.’ A muscle in his jaw flexes.
I exchange a loaded glance with Massimo. I remember the story Gio’s talking about because I read it as part of my ‘research’ before I agreed to fake-date him. It contributed largely to his bad reputation with his sponsors this summer, making him sound like a womanizing, egotistical man-child with daddy issues. Iris must be completely shameless to show her face tonight.
‘I know it seems cowardly,’ Gio goes on. ‘But I promise you, if I go out there she’ll make a scene because that will mean column inches for her tomorrow. Then the conversation will be about that, not this place.’
‘Well, if we’re going to be hiding in here for a while, could we maybe invite Leon to join us?’ I suggest to lighten the mood. ‘Then I can ask him a few questions.’
‘Good idea.’ Gio smiles at me. There’s no arrogance or cockiness about it this time, just a warmth that makes me feel fuzzy inside.
‘I’ll get him.’ Massimo heads for the door.
‘And could we have a few more snacks?’ I call after him. ‘Those cannelloni in the kitchen smelled delicious.’
‘Crab and scallop or chicken and asparagus?’
‘Could I try both? And maybe some of that cheese?’
‘Asiago?’ Massimo winks at me. ‘Hang on to this one, Gio. She’s a woman after my own heart.’