Chapter 13
Issy was alone in Brad’s suite, taking advantage of the break while he was out at the opera to catch up on some of her work, and preparing everything he would need for the following day’s filming. He had an early call, so she’d laid out his clothing, printed out the script updates and production notes, and informed the hotel kitchen that he’d need a takeaway, protein-filled breakfast ready to go at 4.30 a.m.
Issy had her own, much smaller room down the hall – close enough that she could be there in moments if needed, but far enough away that Brad had his privacy. Tonight, it made sense to work in his suite so she could access the printer, as well as all of Brad’s luggage, to arrange everything he needed.
Issy glanced at the clock, wondering what time he would be back. She wanted to be here to greet him – she didn’t like the idea of Brad Redford coming home to an empty room. Issy knew that tonight he was a guest of Lucia de Santis, and that she was keen to have a role in his movie. Brad had laughingly confided to Issy that she was the kind of woman who didn’t expect to hear the word ‘no’.
Still, it seemed as though he might be coming round to the idea anyway. He’d been looking forward to attending the opera – Issy had hired a tuxedo for him and helped him fasten his bow tie, studiously avoiding eye contact while she did so, hardly able to believe how handsome he looked. He’d been brainstorming ways that they could incorporate La Fenice – and La Leonessa – into High Voltage 3 . Issy thought she seemed more trouble than she was worth – Lucia had a reputation as a notorious diva – but she trusted that Brad knew what he was doing.
Issy switched on her laptop and was about to run through Brad’s calendar when her mobile, sitting on the table beside her, began ringing. She snatched it up quickly, assuming it was Brad, but the name flashing on the screen stopped her in her tracks. Issy hesitated, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to answer it, but knew she had no choice.
‘Hi, Mom,’ she sighed.
‘Issy? Issy, it’s me.’ Her mother voice was gravelly, and her words were a little slurred.
‘I know, Mom. How are you?’ Issy tried to keep her tone light, but she already knew her mother wasn’t calling to check in on her.
‘Can you come see me? Now?’
Issy found herself getting upset and frustrated at the same time. ‘I told you, Mom. I’m in Venice.’
There was a pause, then her mother asked in confusion, ‘Venice Beach?’
‘No, Venice in Italy. I told you, remember?’
‘What the hell are you doing there?’
‘It’s for work. Speaking of which … I have to go. It’s late here, and—’
‘Please don’t hang up.’
Issy heard the desperation in her mother’s voice and it almost broke her heart.
‘Are you still there?’
Issy paused. ‘Yes, Mom, I’m still here,’ she whispered. She wondered where her mother was, trying to build up a mental picture of her. She hoped she wasn’t in some seedy bar, or – worse – some seedy guy’s house. ‘Where are you?’
‘At home. Can you wire me some money?’
‘Mom … I just sent you some.’
‘Please, honey, you know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.’
‘But you’re just going to … I can’t …’ Tears sprang to Issy’s eyes. She was so tired of dealing with this, and she didn’t know what to do for the best.
‘It’s the last time, I promise. Please. Just a few hundred dollars.’
Issy exhaled, closing her eyes as though it might make all her problems go away. ‘Look I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, OK.’
‘What about the money, honey? You know I need it.’ Her mother coughed down the phone, and it sounded like a death rattle. Issy felt a tight knot in her stomach.
‘I’ll see what I can do, Mom,’ she said eventually. ‘Please don’t call me again, not while I’m working.’
Without waiting for her mother’s reply, Issy hung up. Her hands were shaking as she pressed the button, and she sat with her head in her hands for a moment, before wiping away her tears on the cuff of her sweater. She stood up to check in the mirror for the telltale signs of streaming mascara, but jumped as she heard the suite door swing open and Brad’s deep, drawling voice call out, ‘Iz?’
Issy hastily checked her appearance and dashed through to the living room, pasting on a bright smile. ‘I’m here! How was the opera?’ she called cheerily.
‘It was amazing. Lucia de Santis – whew, she is really something.’
‘Are you going to put her in the movie?’ Issy asked in surprise.
‘You know what, I actually think I might. She was goddamn dynamite, and it could really broaden the reach of the movie – if it translates on screen.’
Issy nodded, trying to focus on what Brad was saying, and forget about the call she’d had with her mother. Should she send her the money? Issy knew exactly what it would be spent on, but her mother had sounded desperate on the phone, and if it would just keep her going until Issy got back to the States …
‘Iz? Is everything OK?’
With a jolt, Issy realized that Brad was speaking to her. ‘Sorry, yes, I just have a lot on my mind right now.’
‘Am I working you too hard?’ Brad teased.
‘No, nothing like that. I’m sorry. What were you saying?’
‘I was telling you how much you’d have enjoyed it. You should have come.’
‘It didn’t sound as though Lucia’s invitation extended to the PA.’ Issy smiled.
‘Hey, you know if you’d wanted to come, I’d have brought you in a heartbeat, regardless of what Lucia de Santis thought.’
‘Would you?’
‘Of course,’ Brad said softly.
Issy felt her stomach flip at the way he was looking at her with those baby blue eyes, still devilishly handsome in his dinner jacket. ‘You’re back early,’ she said, changing the subject.
‘I was being sensible – for once,’ Brad grinned. ‘Thinking about my early call tomorrow. But it turns out I’m not so tired after all. What do you say, should we go out somewhere? What’s happening in the city tonight?’
‘Well, you’ve been invited to a Carnival-themed casino night at a very exclusive private members’ club, but I haven’t confirmed with them. Apparently it’s one of the social highlights of the Carnival calendar. Everyone who’s anyone in the city will be there.’
‘Right …’ Brad said thoughtfully. He looked at her, his eyes dancing. ‘What do you reckon? Do you fancy it?’
Ordinarily, Issy would have jumped at the chance, but she knew that tonight her mind was elsewhere, and she’d be poor company. She never wanted to be downbeat around Brad, and a busy event surrounded by a group of strangers was the last place she wanted to be tonight. ‘You go if you want,’ she said, trying to sound light-hearted. ‘It sounds great, but I’m a little tired tonight.’
Brad frowned, scrutinizing her face. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘I just …’ For a moment, Issy wanted to tell him everything, just to get it off her chest, to unburden herself, whatever the cost, but she stopped herself. ‘I’m just struggling with the jet lag this time. I’ll be OK in a day or two.’
‘Have you eaten?’ Brad asked, his voice full of concern. ‘How about we order room service and watch a movie or something?’
‘Really?’ Issy’s heart leapt at the idea. ‘That sounds perfect.’
‘Good.’ Brad looked delighted. ‘I think so too.’ He strode over to grab the room-service menu, and Issy couldn’t help but notice how boyish he was when not in full ‘Brad Redford’ mode. He was an alpha male at the top of his game, and his confidence – and good looks – made him incredibly sexy, but he was kind and thoughtful too, which just made him even more attractive.
‘So, what are we having?’ he asked, as he leafed through the menu. ‘I’m starving. Cheeseburgers with all the toppings? Sides of fries and onion rings? I mean, don’t get me wrong, this Italian food is amazing, but sometimes you just want a burger, right?’
Issy was staring at Brad incredulously. ‘What about your diet?’ He usually stuck rigorously to high protein and low fat, especially during a shoot.
‘Cheat day,’ he grinned, with that megawatt smile. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’
‘Deal,’ Issy laughed, as Brad placed the call, adding two chocolate brownies for dessert.
‘Now that’s taken care of, can I interest you in a vodka, lime and soda?’
‘Who are you and what have you done with the real Brad Redford?’ Issy said in mock-horror.
‘Don’t I deserve a night off once in a while?’
‘Sure. You go sit down and I’ll make the drinks.’
But Brad shook his head. ‘No, that’s not what I meant. Tonight you’re having a night off too. You do enough for me, Iz,’ he said gently.
‘It’s my job,’ she shrugged, as she settled down on the luxurious sofa. It was so soft it felt like sitting on a cloud, and was perfect to sink into after a long day.
‘No, it’s more than that. You go above and beyond every single day. I probably don’t say it enough, but I know your job’s not easy, and I appreciate you more than you know.’
‘Well … thank you,’ Issy replied, as Brad handed her a drink and she took a sip. It was strong and delicious. ‘But how could I complain about flying first class around the world, attending the hottest parties and premieres, meeting people I’ve admired for years and staying in places like this ?’ She gestured round at the enormous suite with the genuine Titian on the wall, and the spectacular view of the Venetian cityscape through the large Palladian windows.
‘Remember, this is me you’re talking to. It all sounds glamorous, but I know the reality – not being home for weeks on end, losing friends because you can’t make their wedding, or their thirtieth birthday party, or meet the baby they had six months ago. And it’s practically impossible to hold down a relationship when the two of you are never in the same place.’
Issy briefly wondered whether he was referring to him and Lexi, but all she said was, ‘I know what you mean.’
‘Do you?’ Brad asked, his eyes focused on her intently. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve ruined any of your relationships.’
Issy felt embarrassed to have hinted at something so personal. ‘No, not really. Nothing serious, anyway. It’s fine, I’m planning on being seduced by a handsome Italian man any day now,’ she joked. ‘You’ll be sorry when I hand in my notice to get married and have Italian bambinos .’
‘Please don’t do that,’ he begged. ‘You can’t leave me and stay in Venice. No Italian bambinos for you!’ Brad looked horrified, as Issy laughed.
‘Don’t worry, you’ve got me twenty-four hours a day, 365 days of the year, body and soul,’ Issy said. The words sounded more intense than she’d intended them to, and Brad stared at her, his gaze searching her face.
The door buzzed and Brad leapt up. ‘Room service,’ he exclaimed, opening the door as the butler wheeled in the trolley. ‘Set it up on the coffee table,’ Brad instructed. ‘We’ll eat on the couch.’
The waiter did as he was asked, and had barely left the room before Brad was taking a huge bite of his burger and groaning in delight. ‘Now, isn’t this better than being at some casino and losing all my money at blackjack?’
‘It’s perfect,’ Issy said softly.
‘Not quite,’ Brad frowned. ‘There’s just one more thing …’ He reached for the remote and turned on the enormous television, scrolling through the channels until he found the English-speaking ones. Casablanca had just started and Brad selected it, Ingrid Bergman’s luminous beauty and Humphrey Bogart’s cool cynicism filling the screen. ‘ Now it’s perfect,’ Brad murmured.
Issy wanted to agree. After all, she was in Venice, at the White Palace Hotel, eating junk food and watching one of her favourite movies, curled up beside Brad Redford. But in the back of her mind was the one dark spot on her sunny horizon, and she glanced down at her phone, wedging it under a cushion and hoping it wouldn’t ring again.
Brad had been so sweet to her, and for another brief moment Issy considered confiding in him, but she knew that would be foolish. She couldn’t bear to see the respect drain from his face, the coldness in his eyes as he discovered her secret. He would conclude that she was no longer trustworthy, and probably fire her on the spot. That would break her heart. She adored her job – and she adored Brad – and Issy didn’t want anything to change.
She glanced across at Brad, eating his burger, engrossed in the movie, and knew she would do whatever it took to stay by his side. Issy had fought so hard to get to this point, and she wouldn’t let anyone take it away from her.