Just accept it?
Accept what?
Annie rolled onto her back, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, now wide awake, her thoughts whirring.
‘What are you up to, Felicity?’
Chapter 11
Now
The drive back from the restaurant in Sorrento had been a silent one. Kim knew Antonio wanted her to confide more in him but she couldn’t.
She and Gabriel weren’t him and Emilia. There were some major differences in their relationship. Kim idolised the older woman, who might soon no longer even remember her.
Right from the start, Emilia had inspired and encouraged her. She had facilitated everything that Kim had achieved with The Sweet Life, had pushed her out of her comfort zone, and encouraged her to break away from the hold her parents had on her.
After all these years, Kim wished she could thank whatever god was smiling on her the day she’d met her and Antonio. His wife was someone Kim admired and adored, but definitely not one she could compare with.
Emilia was the best of women.
‘Are you going to be grumpy for the rest of the day? If so, I might as well fix us both a drink.’ Antonio’s voice again interrupted her musings.
They were back at the villa now, sitting at a patio table outside on the terrace, next to the adjoining lawn that was to be the centre’s yoga area.
‘I don’t think my being grumpy is the reason you want a drink,’ Kim drawled, briefly checking her phone.
‘Perhaps, but it is the reason I’m going to use.’
Still his words brought a smile to her face. The Italian knew the right things to say at just the right time. He had for as long as she’d known him.
Having checked her email, she scrolled idly through her social media, noting with some satisfaction that her latest post – a pretty and artistic shot she’d taken earlier of the villa’s lemon groves and the azure waters of the bay as a backdrop – had already racked up lots of activity.
She read a little way through some of the comments, before one in particular stopped her in her tracks.
The Sweet Life? That’s a joke, considering. Don’t you mean The FAKE Life?
Kim frowned.
Since the villa project had ramped up, lately she seemed to be getting some negative and downright nasty comments from people (although possibly even the same person using different identities, as online trolls often did).
Par for the course with social media, she knew, especially for an account with a following in the hundreds of thousands, and while Kim didn’t usually pay too much attention, she didn’t like the sound of this one.
The Fake Life …
It was unsettling, as it suggested something more sinister – personal, even – and because in truth, it tapped into Kim’s own deeply held insecurities.
‘Are you OK,bella?’ Antonio asked, frowning as he came back out with a decanter of rich amber that he’d stolen from the villa’s freshly stocked kitchen.
‘I’m … fine.’
He studied her face and then his brows furrowed slightly as he noticed her faraway expression. He set the whiskey down on the patio table.
‘OK, maybe this is something that should be spirit-free,’ he decided. He lowered himself onto the seat beside her, his knees pointed towards her. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
Kim exhaled and looked out over the water. She wasn’t going to tell Antonio about the comments; not until she could get a proper handle on it all herself.
Not to mention that he didn’t reallygetsocial media, routinely joking that it was ‘not of his generation’.
