Chapter 12
12
Today has been a day of twists, turns and total surprises. Still, even with each development, I never thought I’d wind up here, sitting on the end of a super king bed, with Andrea sitting beside me.
‘So…’ I start, my voice trailing off.
‘So,’ Andrea replies through an awkward chuckle. ‘So this is… interesting.’
‘I thought your English was good,’ I dare to joke. ‘But interesting means fascinating, intriguing – it doesn’t mean an absolute cluster-fuck of absolutely everything.’
‘Cluster-fuck,’ Andrea says softly, his accent as sexy as ever. ‘That’s a new one for me. I like it.’
I can’t help but laugh.
‘It’s not all bad,’ he offers up optimistically. ‘This villa is beautiful.’
Rick has really pushed the boat out (well, in his case, you only get married three times) for this trip, booking us apartments in the villas, rather than rooms in the hotel. Each villa appears to be divided into four apartments, each with a bedroom and a living space, with either a patio or a balcony, depending on which floor they’re on. We’re upstairs, so we have a balcony that I’m yet to check out.
The apartment is really nice, though. It’s so chic and elegant with a subtle beach theme that mirrors the tranquil beauty of the resort outside. Both the bedroom and the living area have wooden double doors that open out onto the balcony. Both were already open when we arrived, but with closed sheer curtains that are dancing in the breeze.
The colour scheme is mostly made up of soft, sandy hues with occasional pops of seafoam green and deep ocean blue. Somehow it all just feels so soothing and calming, and that’s a big ask when you’re the director of a shitshow like I am right now.
I’m currently wearing one of the robes from the bathroom – well, it was the quickest thing to put on, so that I could put my boobs down.
I run my hand over the crisp white bedsheets – the only bed, I hasten to add. Even the living area has comfy chairs instead of a sofa.
Don’t get me wrong, there is a fantasy, lurking in the back of my mind, where we do this. Andrea stays here with me, we share a bed, he helps me impress my boss and show James what he’s been missing out on. But a fantasy is exactly that. We’re not doing this, are we? We can’t.
‘Here we go again,’ I say with a laugh, turning to face him. He turns to face me too. ‘Now we’re both pretending to be engaged.’
‘We are,’ he replies. ‘To each other.’
‘This time you have to accept my apology,’ I point out. ‘And, obviously, you don’t have to do anything Rick asked you to do.’
‘No?’ he replies.
‘No, honestly, I really appreciate you helping Rick out, and playing along, but I can get you out of this,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll find a translator and I’ll make an excuse for you. It’s sort of a shame, because I think that is the most impressed Rick has ever been with me, and I didn’t even do anything. He made it very clear to me, back in England, that there are only two kinds of employees that he values: those who are ruthless, who would happily take his job if they could, or those who are family-orientated and settled. I suppose I’ll never pass for ruthless, so him thinking I’m about to get married is probably the best I can hope for. It’s just a shame it’s not true – if you know what I mean.’
I’m super quick to add that bit on at the end because, come on, I already must seem mad enough. Andrea was embarrassed by his little white lie, so he must be mortified on my behalf, seeing me do something similar, just, you know, with added weirdness.
‘Huh,’ Andrea says thoughtfully – although I have no idea what he’s thinking right now. ‘Tell me about your job.’
‘We’re an advertising agency,’ I explain. ‘So companies come to us, let us know what they want to advertise, who they want to appeal to – what they want to achieve, basically, and we make it happen. Rick is the boss. I’m part of a team with a few others. There is James, who you met. Then there’s Liz, who just between us is sort of my work rival, and then there is Henry, and Cait. Rick’s assistant, Julie, will be here somewhere. Hilariously, Rick is getting married here, before we fly home. I guess the rest of his wedding party will be joining us later. It’s kind of weird. But the main reason we’re here is to meet up with, schmooze and pitch to our latest client, Come a Casa, who want to break into the UK market. Are they quite popular here?’
‘Yes, really popular,’ Andrea replies.
‘Are they good?’ I ask, feeling like he might be holding something back.
‘Ehh,’ Andrea replies, bobbing his head from side to side to show his indifference. ‘Not my favourite.’
‘Well, you are a chef, I suppose,’ I point out. ‘The last thing you need is ready-made food.’
Andrea laughs.
‘Listen, I know you’re saying that I don’t need to do this, but let me go with you tonight, to dinner,’ Andrea suggests. ‘If you think your boss is impressed that you’re engaged, well, I’m already here, let’s show him that you’re the person he wants you to be. Then, I don’t know, you can say I’m too busy, you can go home, say we’re in a long-distance relationship, or I got eaten by a shark – whatever you want. But let me do this for you tonight, sì ?’
I smile.
I mean, that would be great, because I don’t know how I would explain his sudden disappearance (not unless I take Andrea’s shark suggestion) but we can use tonight to make out like he’s so super busy that, unfortunately, he won’t be around this week. Perhaps there is a way to spin this, so that I come up smelling or roses – instead of the usual.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ I say.
‘I would love to do it,’ he replies. ‘Even if it is just to try the food here.’
‘Well, I can’t argue with that,’ I say. ‘I suppose I should get changed.’
‘Do you mind if I take a quick shower?’ Andrea asks. ‘I saw a store, in the hotel. I can go to buy some trousers while you get ready.’
‘Yeah, of course,’ I reply. ‘Go for it.’
‘I won’t be long,’ he tells me.
As he passes me, walking across the room, he gives me a playful wink. Oof, it hits me straight in the pants.
I try not to look as he takes off his shirt, placing it on a hanger in the wardrobe to keep it neat. What is it about him that is so sexy? His face? His body? His accent? His charm? I think it’s the full package and – oh, boy, he’s taking off his shorts, and ‘full package’ is exactly how I would describe what I’m seeing. I look up at the ceiling in an almost comic fashion, trying to pretend I wasn’t staring. I don’t know if Andrea notices, as he heads into the bathroom whistling a song to himself.
Finally alone, I push every drop of oxygen from my lungs. This is… wow, I don’t know what this is. A problem? A solution? A mess either way, that’s for sure.
I pull myself to my feet and step out onto the balcony. I smile to myself as I realise that we’re on the side of the villa that has a sea view. There is a garden below us, for the apartment below, but otherwise we’re right on the beach. I can see comfortable-looking four-poster sunbeds with curtains, a bar, an outdoor dancefloor, a long stretch of beach, and of course the sea, which stretches out for miles before it meets the horizon.
‘Now then, neighbour,’ I hear a voice say.
I jump out of my skin because I thought I was alone. Turning to my left, I spot James, on the balcony next to mine. The two balconies are so close you could almost step between them.
‘Oh, hi,’ I reply as casually as I can. ‘This place is gorgeous, right?’
‘Oh, forget that,’ he says with a playful scoff. ‘I want to know about you – you’re engaged?’
‘I am,’ I reply, still baffled that this seems to be getting his attention, but I’m not complaining because I’ve been trying to get his attention for years now.
‘Since when?’ he replies. ‘How long have you and young Al Pacino been a thing?’
I keep my cool, smiling on the inside, so that he can’t tell what I’m thinking.
‘Oh, quite a while,’ I reply. ‘I guess I just see work as work, there’s no need to share my private life with anyone there, you know?’
James narrows his eyes at me.
‘You know, I could’ve sworn you had flirted with me,’ he points out. ‘Several times. And asked me out.’
‘As colleagues,’ I point out.
‘That’s not the impression I got,’ he says as he gets as close to the edge of his balcony as he can. His voice is much lower now, so I step closer too, so that I can still hear. ‘I can tell when a girl is into me. Do you know what I think?’
‘What?’ I reply, again doing my best to keep my cool, not wanting to give the game away by falling at the first hurdle.
‘I think you were flirting with me,’ he says confidentially. ‘I think you’re a bad girl. I guess I underestimated you.’
I allow myself to smile, just a little, as I shrug off his words.
‘People often underestimate me,’ I tell him. ‘They shouldn’t.’
James grins as he looks my robe up and down.
‘Are you still wearing that dress under there?’ he asks curiously, his eyes homing in on the front, a look on his face that seems to be either willing the robe to fall open or mustering up the power to see straight through it.
‘Nope,’ I reply. ‘It’s on my bedroom floor.’
‘Well, if you ever want to see it on mine, you know where I am,’ he tells me as he slowly backs away. ‘See you at dinner later. Both of you.’
And with that he heads back into his apartment.
I plonk myself down in one of the patio seats. He was flirting with me, wasn’t he? Without a shadow of a doubt. James has never flirted with me, never ever, not even close.
And now, just because he thinks I have a fiancé, he’s all over me.
I never knew ‘speculate to accumulate’ could apply to men.