Phrased as a question, but with no pause for an answer, Billie was gone, leaving Amy standing in her suite doorway. She should feel pleased that she’d been given the day off, but instead she felt like she’d been road-rollered.
Once downstairs, Amy made herself some coffee in the dining room, wandering through the empty reception area and peering into the teaching kitchen, then on into the professional kitchen. She didn’t know what she was expecting to find – or whom – and as she retraced her steps, strangely off-kilter at not finding Tad in the kitchen, she decided to take her coffee out into the garden.
In the shade of the almond tree, with their back to the double doors that opened from the dining room to give guest access to the garden, someone was reclining in one of the teak garden chairs. By the looks of the shoe, gently bobbing up and down on the toes of a crossed leg, it was Hugh. He seemed to be alone. Quietly enjoying the solace of the beautiful and totally secluded green space.
Would he mind company? There was only one way to find out.
‘Good morning, Hugh. Can I join you?’
He startled at the sound of her voice, his shoe bouncing and dropping onto the paving slabs as he turned.
‘Amy? Good morning – are you all right? I noted your absence at breakfast.’ He patted at the empty recliner beside him. ‘Please, do sit down.’
She slid into the chair. ‘I’m fine. Bit embarrassing, actually. I dozed off and lost track of the time.’
Hugh pulled in a breath. ‘You missed a wonderful breakfast. The lightestsfogliatellaI’ve ever eaten, served with seriously strong espresso coffee. Tad really has such an excellent grip on traditional Italian cuisine. Not totally surprising, I suppose.’
‘Sfogliatella?’
‘They’re flaky pastry buns, filled with ricotta cheese and candied orange peel. Tad uses a mixture of orange and lemon peel in his for a bit of variety. Delicious, especially if you have a sweet tooth.’
‘Sounds like I really missed out.’
‘Well, yes – I’m rather afraid you did. Every puff of pastry consumed, every morsel of filling scraped from the plate. Seems that’s his signature, isn’t it?’
‘What is?’
‘Scraped plates.’ Hugh grinned at his own observation.
Amy nodded. ‘You might be right about that.’
‘He’s headed off to Malcesine to get the cable car with your boss lady and her photographer. Now that Malcolm is a man with the patience of a saint, if you ask me. Didn’t you want to go up Monte Baldo while you’re here?’
She frowned. ‘I’d like to go, but I’m not going on my own.’
‘I don’t understand, then. Why didn’t you go with the rest of your group?’
Amy sighed. Why hadn’t she asked Billie to wait for ten minutes? She knew why. Because it had stung her when Billie had said Tad had chosen to sit at their table this morning, whenshewasn’t there. And she hadn’t wanted to sound as though she cared at all about it, even though, as she sat in the garden nursing a cup of coffee she didn’t want, she realised she did care. Although there was no way she could vocalise any of that to Hugh.
Instead, she smiled. Tried to appear off-hand. ‘Oh, Billie was in a bit of a rush. It doesn’t matter, it’s not the end of the world if I don’t go, is it?’
Hugh swung his frame to face her, his expression serious and unexpectedly sharp. ‘Do you want to go up in the cable car to Monte Baldo, Amy?’
‘Yes. I do,’ she said.
‘Right then,’ Hugh said, levering himself to his feet and shuffling his errant shoe back on. ‘Best you don’t miss out on anything else today, don’t you think? Meet you outside the front of Casa in ten minutes. We’ll go together.’
11
Tad hadn’t realised Amy wouldn’t be a part of Billie’s group until he was sliding into the taxi and there was no sign of her.
‘Is Amy not coming with us?’ he asked, having assumed when he’d seen Billie disappearing up the stairs to the guest suites that she’d gone to find her.
Billie pulled in a difficult breath. ‘No. I tried to persuade her, but she didn’t seem very interested. She’d overslept, said she’d need too long to sort out her hair and we should go without her. I think she’s going to miss a great trip, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do.’ Somehow Amy hadn’t struck Tad as being someone who would miss out on this excursion without a better reason. Especially after their conversation in the kitchen the previous evening. But he didn’t know Amy at all well. Perhaps she wasn’t as bothered about seeing the view as he’d thought. She’d probably thought better of the idea and fancied wandering around the beautiful streets of Riva instead, grabbing an espresso and watching the world wander past. It wasn’t as though they’d actually organised anything.
‘Personally, I couldn’t be doing with all that hair to have to mess about with every day.’ Billie was still talking. ‘This is so much easier to style,’ she added, running her fingers through immaculately styled mahogany waves. She fixed Tad with an intense stare. ‘Are you a long or a short-hair guy? I’m betting short. Am I right? Men always have a preference, don’t they, Malc?’
