Amy shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. What’s wrong, Taddeo?’
He frowned. ‘I’d rather you stick with “Tad”, if that’s OK with you.’
It was as though he’d slapped her, and Amy struggled to stay calm as she thanked him for lunch and headed for a quiet spot in Casa’s larger garden. Somewhere to hide, to recalibrate. Somewhere hopefully even Billie wouldn’t be able to find her, for a while at least.
When a text buzzed into her phone a while later, from Billie and telling Amy they’d found the most fantastic pizza place and Malcolm had eaten his bodyweight in calzone, Amy struggled to raise a smile. Even at the part when Billie said it was the first time in a long while that she’d gone completely unrecognised.
It should be amusing that they’d chosen somewhere run by someone who couldn’t care less what Billie Forsythe-Rogers thought of their cuisine. Although it was formidable, her reputation didn’t encompass the entire globe. She wasn’t Taylor Swift.
With a sigh, Amy stood. She supposed she should snap out of it and get her notebook, try to do some work. Admit that she was even more confused about the world of love than ever before. She wandered back through the gardens, hand trailing through long, ornamental grasses in one border before she reached the huge patio and the massive, open bifold doors leading into the breakfast room and on through to the rest of the building.
Voices echoed through from the cool serenity of the wide reception area, the doors to the main entrance thrown wide and pieces of luggage littering the rich tones of the floor tiles. The new guests had arrived.
A middle-aged couple dragging wheeled hand luggage bustled through the doorway, claiming larger suitcases already in the lobby before heading for the staircase. The man, confident in his stride and with their room key already dangling from one hand, nodded and smiled in greeting as he marched past. His wife, shoving dark glasses up into a wild tangle of grey curls, grinned as she floated past, her cases tick-ticking against the tiled floor and her pleasant floral perfume reaching Amy’s nostrils and lingering after they’d both disappeared around the curve of the stairs in search of their room.
More voices wafted in from outside. Amy recognised one of them as Tad’s, while the other was unfamiliar. Female. Amy couldn’t hear what she was saying but laughter lifted the woman’s voice. The enthusiasm and happiness of the latest arrivals had Amy grinning too. Tad must have chosen to greet them on the steps outside, with room keys at the ready.
Amy moved closer. She saw Tad, animated in his greeting of this guest. Amy crossed the reception area to see who he was talking to. As the woman came into view – slender, blonde hair in a pixie cut, and much younger than the other two arrivals – Amy frowned. As she watched, the woman wrapped her arms around Tad’s neck, leaning into him. For his part, Tad folded his arms around her, they meshed together as though they were one. Amy stilled, watched as the woman leant in, whispering something in Tad’s ear. He laughed, threw his head back and hooted with genuine joy, before wrapping her up again in a ferocious hug.
Amy felt sick. How hadn’t she even considered that Tad might already have a girlfriend? How had she been so naïve? Not naïve, stupid would be a more accurate word. She’d been so busy analysing how she was beginning to feel about him, she hadn’t stopped to consider what now seemed pitifully obvious.
Tad was already involved with someone. With this woman.
No wonder he’d pushed her away.
Before either of them noticed her, or she had to witness them kissing, Amy scuttled back the way she’d come, headed for her room and locked herself inside.
14
Seeing Clare did something to Tad that was hard to explain. Difficult to make sense of in words. Vocabulary became a poor medium for describing the waves of emotion she brought out in him.
Suffice to say her arrival had that heady mix of feelings tumbling over him like ocean waves and gathering her up into a hug had set the world straight, even if only for a few moments.
It hadn’t ever been romantic, their connection – they’d both been so broken when they first met that going down that route, tangling themselves together when neither of them could stand on their own two feet, would only have ended badly. She was gorgeous – no question. Elfin and slight, with awesome, sun-kissed corn-blonde hair hugging the nape of her neck. Her mischievous blue eyes watchful, and incredibly sad, back when they’d first met. But always ready – these days – with a smile.
On paper she was everything he should find attractive. He never had – he figured he saw too much of himself in the pain etched across her face to ever be able to think of her in those terms. Instead, she had become the sister Tad wished he’d always had. They’d been emotional crutches for one another while they’d navigated the long, hard road of learning to walk alone again.
Clare had arrived with a couple – some friends from the UK Tad hadn’t met before – and they all intended to stay for the remainder of the week, the three of them having booked in for the lessons, too. It would give him plenty of time to catch up on the news, starting with dinner at the best family-run restaurant in Riva. Nestled on the edge of the lake, with a large outside table booked for eight o’clock for all the Casa del Cibo guests, Tad couldn’t wait to share the best of the local cuisine with everybody.
With everyone seated and studying the menu, Tad had a chance to look around the table. Clare was next to him, her newly arrived friends to her right. The way everyone had shuffled into their seats meant Amy ended up at the other end of the table, between Hugh and Ron Penhallon. She looked distracted, and Tad hoped it wasn’t because of what had happened earlier. Hoped she would accept his apology and put it behind her, forget all about it by the time she got home to the man she was already involved with. He should speak to her; reassure her the kiss was a one-off. He sighed. Wanted their kiss to be anything but a one-off.
For now, he needed to focus his attention on Clare, to catch up on all the news.
‘She’s a bit young for a cooking holiday, isn’t she?’ Clare said, leaning into Tad so their shoulders touched, chin tilted towards Amy. ‘Not your normal demographic.’
‘Ha ha. Rude. Not everyone who comes on these holidays is geriatric, Clare. After all, you’re here, aren’t you?’
Clare reached a hand around her back, miming an ache. ‘Getting older by the day…’
He grinned. ‘True enough.’
‘Surprised you haven’t noticed how gorgeous she is,’ Clare added, as she flapped at her menu and focused on the choice of starters.
‘Oh, I have,’ he said, almost under his breath, but loudly enough for Clare to lay down her menu, her attention returning to him.
‘Have you now…’ Her entire face lit up as she smiled at him. ‘And…?’
‘And nothing. Apparently, she’s involved with some bloke back home.’
