He sits up and has the decency to cover his barely there swim trunks with a towel. How anyone finds the male species attractive is beyond me.
“Of course,” he stumbles.
“We’ve not been formally introduced. I’m Allegra Malgeri.”
“P-Pete Bolton.”
I take the time to perch regally on the adjacent sunbed. Chiara, the house chef, cocks her brow at me through the kitchen window. She makes the universal sign for drink. As much as I’d love a glass of wine, it’s far too early and I don’t want Pete to think we will ever be that friendly. I give her a subtle head shake.
“I’d like to discuss yesterday’s events.”
“With me?” he asks, confused.
“Yes, with you. I’ve been led to believe your idea of helping Bonnie through what is a traumatic and life-altering time, is to ply her with enough alcohol to fell a horse.”
“I… But…”
“You must know I see everything, Mr Bolton. This is my house, and you are my guests. Now, I won’t excuse Bonnie. She’s an adult, after all, and makes her own decisions, however, I’ve been watching you, Mr Bolton. I’ve watched you encourage her relentlessly.”
“Hey, hang on. You don’t know me or Bonnie.”
“Oh, but I do. I know Bonnie would rather sit with a good book and maybe a small glass of wine. I know she’s a two-drink kind of woman, and I know this past week has thrown her entire life into the air. I know she looks to you for protection. I know you haven’t lived up to that job for a while now. And I know that instead of helping her work through this, you’ve decided to take the easy way out and get her drunk every hour of the day.”
“I’m not her keeper,” he protests.
“No, you are supposed to be her best friend. She begged to have you here because the thought of anything happening to you was unfathomable. I agreed. I’m seriously regretting that decision. Last night wasn’t just some silly drunken escapade. Bonnie could have got seriously hurt—killed even—and yet here you are, back by the pool, drinking, instead of checking on your friend. Even Kelley crawled out of bed to make sure she was fine. And thanks to me finding her, she is.”
“I tried to see her last night, but you—”
“I would have shot you if I’d stopped. You are skating through life telling Bonnie how boring she is. You have the audacity to pick apart her choices when you’re here, being a man-child, with no direction or prospects. Bonnie might enjoy books over beer. Microwave meals over clubbing. But at least she’s content. Can you say the same, Mr Bolton?” His mouth bobs open and shut. “No, I didn’t think so. With that said, I suggest you refrain from ‘helping’ Bonnie until you can offer her more than this—until you can be the person she needs. Oh, and one last thing: If I hear you have been encouraging her to drink her worries away again, I’ll have you thrown to the wolves, regardless of Bonnie’s wishes.Capiche?”
There, I feel much better now. I don’t wait to hear an answer. I’ve made myself clear. Now I need to shift focus onto the rest of my day. The meeting with the family heads is in a few hours, so I have two options: sit at my desk and pore through finances or take a stroll over to the farmhouse I am having renovated. My plan is to open a restaurant that serves our wine and local food. It’s been in the pipeline for several years and it’s finally almost a reality.
Stepping out of the villa, I take in the view and a large breath of sea air. The restaurant is a five-minute walk. We have quad bikes and golf carts, but I never use them. Why would anyone want to rush here? Time in the vineyard is precious.
Laughter greets me as I step through the restaurant door. The interior is almost finished and it looks divine. The aesthetic is in line with the villa’s authentic look and feel, but it also boasts top-of-the-line equipment. The kitchen is a chef’s wet dream.
In the corner of the main restaurant area sits Lorenzo, sipping a glass of red with Mark and Phillip. They seem to be getting on well, and Lorenzo certainly looks happier. I’m a little irritated at them too, to be honest. While they’ve been getting to know each other, Bonnie has been struggling. I can’t imagine it has escaped her fathers’ attentions. So why haven’t they intervened? Maybe I should find out. I’ve already set one arrogant shit straight today. Might as well make it three more.
“Gentlemen,” I say in greeting. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Ah, Allegra. How are you,tesoro?”
“Busy.”
Lorenzo laughs. “Always on the go, my Allegra,” he says to Mark and Phillip. “We decided to give the kids some space. Let them enjoy the villa.”
I nod and eye them carefully. “So much space you missed Bonnie’s drunk excursion to the edge of our property last night.”
“Our Bonnie?” Mark replies.
“Or the days before, where she hasn’t been sober for a second.”
“She’s letting off some steam,” Phillip quips.
I have reached my limit for dealing with bullshit today. Standing with hands on hips, I level a stare at them that could melt glass. “What the fuck is wrong with you all?” I hiss.
Bonnie’s dads look taken aback. Lorenzo carefully puts his glass on the table.
