‘All of them,’ Hugh confirmed. ‘Lucia and the girls are spending the summer with him, and I think their son is filming in LA.’ He was very careful not to say Sam’s name, she noticed.
‘I still can’t stay here. You’ll have to tell them I’m leaving. I’m planning to go into an Internet café and find a flight home.’
There was silence for a moment. Cesca stared out of the glass windows of the phone box, and into the piazza. Gabi and Sandro had taken a table in one of the cafés, and were chatting away to the waitress. Another pang of guilt shot through Cesca’s body.
‘What if I can guarantee no visitors?’ Hugh asked. ‘You’ve seen the place, it’s completely secluded. It’s beautiful. Perfect for you, dear girl.’
Cesca added ungrateful to her list of sins. ‘It would be perfect,’ she agreed, ‘if it wasn’t for the family who own it.’
‘They’ve never done anything to you. Not Foster or Lucia. And maybe it’s the best place to bury some of your demons. You can breathe, you can write, you can come to learn there is good and bad in everything, it all depends on your outlook.’
From her position in the piazza, Gabi caught her eye and waved madly, a huge smile on her face. Cesca had only met her a matter of hours ago, and yet they’d taken to each other right away. Almost like another sister – not that she needed any more. Now she was going to ruin their plans.
She hated this, so much.
As if he sensed a softening, Hugh went in for the kill. ‘Why don’t you give it a week and see how you feel then? Do it for me. Give yourself a bit of time to think about things, and then call me next Friday. I’ll be ready to book you a ticket if you want me to.’
‘Will that give the Carltons enough time to find a replacement for me?’
Hugh sighed. ‘There is no replacement. If you aren’t able to do it, their housekeepers will be staying at the villa. The only reason they agreed to let them go is because I suggested you could step in at the last minute. I’m sorry, but there it is. Give yourself a chance to sleep on it and think things through.’
There was no doubt about it, she was between a rock and a hard place, and it was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Cesca stared out across the piazza again, torn between shouting louder at Hugh and hanging up to join her new friends for a coffee. The sun was slowly
sinking down in the sky, casting orange rays across the paved ground, and there was nothing more she wanted to do than go out there and pretend to be a tourist for a few hours.
But could she do it for Gabi and Sandro? She wasn’t sure if she could stay in that house and not feel constantly anxious.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t be the one to spoil Gabi and Sandro’s plans, not after they’d been so kind to her.
‘OK,’ she said, aware that she’d been agreeing to things outside her comfort zone ever since she spent the night at Hugh’s. ‘I’ll stay. But you need to know I’m going to be cursing your name every night. I might even make a voodoo doll.’
He laughed again. ‘I’ll let you know when I feel the pain. And you’ve made the right choice. You’re stronger than you think, just give yourself a chance. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.’
Cesca shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. There were worse places to find yourself than in a secluded villa by the side of Lake Como, and worse situations to find yourself in than being given free run of the house for the summer. If she was going to have a nervous breakdown, at least she could do it in style.
That would be something to write home about.
4
Having nothing, nothing can he lose
– Henry VI Part III
Sam Carlton leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his palms. The bristles from three days’ beard growth scratched at his skin. He hadn’t bothered shaving since he’d first been contacted by the journalist, it hadn’t seemed worth it.
‘I don’t understand,’ he finally said. ‘What possible reason would she have for selling her story?’
Charles Dewitt folded his arms across his chest, his head tilted to one side as he stared back at Sam. They’d known each other for six years, since Sam had moved to Hollywood and been referred to the Dewitt Artist Agency. With a movie offer already in hand, Charles had snapped him up as a client. Since that time, Sam’s career had skyrocketed, first as part of the Summer Breeze movie franchise, then in the leading roles that had come flooding in after his initial success.
‘Publicity.’ Charles shrugged. ‘Everybody wants it, even Serena Sloane. She’s got a new release coming up, she needs to get her name out there.’
Sam could feel the agitation creeping through his bones. ‘But this piece is full of lies. I didn’t know she was married, she told me it was over. This article makes me out to be some kind of cheating asshole.’
Even the headline was enough to make him feel sick. Serena Sloane: Hollywood’s Mr Nice was Nasty in Bed. And I Loved It!
‘Can’t we quash it?’ Sam asked. ‘Send a rebuttal or sue them or something? Maybe I should call my publicist?’
‘I’ve already called Melissa. She’s on the case right now. But tell me, Sam, why would you want to quash the rumours?’