A Place in the Sun(24)

Her smile fell, just a bit. “Fix it up? What for?”

Her meaning hung thick in the air.

If I’m going to die, what’s the point?

I didn’t argue and we never went back.

Now, the subject of fixing up the bed and breakfast had been brought back up, and I was humming with anger at Georgie. Lord knows I wouldn’t forget her name now. Not ever. She was a spoiled brat on holiday from England, used to getting her way. She assumed she could just snap her fingers, take my nonna’s bed and breakfast from us, and I wouldn’t put up a fight? Like hell.

The fact that Massimo hadn’t been on my side of things was even more infuriating. He didn’t know Georgie any more than I did. His farm and restaurant were doing well. He didn’t need the money, which meant he had other motives. Nonna would have been so disappointed.

I took the long way back to the villa after I’d stormed out of dinner. I was in no rush to get back to its deafening quiet, so I wove through the back alleys of Vernazza, listening to the sounds of life. There were two ways to live in the village: down in the center where everyone was nearly piled up on top of one another, or out in the hills with a bit more privacy. My villa was perched on the edge of a cliff, looking out over the ocean, and while the view was worth the trek, it was a lonely existence up there.

I was still worked up by the time I made it home, unable to quell the surge of adrenaline that would make it impossible to sleep. I wound through the ivy in the dark and felt for the shed tucked behind the villa. I pulled open the heavy wooden door and fumbled around inside until my hand hit my work lamp. Its stand was lying beside it and I yanked both out of the shed and carried them to the front of the house.

Once the light was plugged in, I had enough light to work on my wall. I yanked off the button-down shirt I’d worn for dinner and wiped my brow, intent on working until I was too tired to stand. I pushed the wheelbarrow out from the shed and tore at the stones on the wall, tossing aside one after another. They clanged against the metal, and I focused on the sharp sound until I’d settled into an easy rhythm.

I wouldn’t entertain the idea of selling the bed and breakfast to Georgie. She could butter Massimo up all she wanted, but I saw through her fa?ade. Her family had money, and she’d lived a cushy fairytale life. She could buy any bed and breakfast in any village on any continent. But she would leave mine alone.



…



The next morning, I woke up to loud banging on the villa’s front door. I was an early riser by habit, but I’d stayed up late into the night working on the wall, and I wasn’t quite prepared to leave my bed as the banging continued. Bloody hell. It’ll be Massimo, I thought, come round to rage at me for storming out of Katerina’s. I padded down the stairs, prepared to tell him to sod off and crawl back in bed, but then I caught a hint of woman’s voice instead.

“Hellooo! I know you’re in there!”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Please come open the door or your coffee will get cold!”

I yanked the door open, vaguely acknowledged the fact that Georgie was standing there, and then tried to close the door in her face.

“I don’t want coffee.”

She pushed the small paper cup against my chest and I had to reach for it before it spilled. I was still shirtless, and I didn’t feel like having third degree burns on my chest.

“Bloody hell. Are you mental?”

She grinned. “Never been confirmed one way or the other. Regardless, I’ve come to have a chat.”

She propped her hands on her hips, all proud and confident, and I registered then that she wasn’t dressed like normal. She had on denim overalls, a tight white t-shirt, and a red bandanna tied round her head. She looked like she was about to work construction and the idea of it nearly made me laugh, but then I remembered how annoyed I was.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve come round looking like a construction worker.” She waved her hand down her front. “Well, we have a big job ahead of us and it’ll be best if we get started right away.”

She didn’t take a breath. She pushed through the front door of my house and made her way inside.

“I know you’re not keen on the idea of selling me the bed and breakfast, and I completely understand. But, I’m not asking for a majority stake or anything, just enough so my brother can be proud that I’ve done something with my life. Did I tell you I have a brother? Fred? He’s this real superstar, actually, an Olympic swimmer for Great Britain, and he’s quite annoying to have in the family. My mom’s always going on about how much he’s been able to accomplish and then she’ll say how I haven’t even snared a husband yet. It’s like I’m the black sheep, only that’s ludicrous, because I happen to think I’m the only normal one in that lot.”

I held up my hand to stop her, but she just rambled on, oblivious to the fact that I was waving for her to leave my house.

“That building is so lovely and it’s not right to leave it empty like that. It’s cruel, really. I’m not a designer or anything, but I think I have a good eye for color and furniture. I grew up living on a bloody estate, so goodness knows I’ve seen enough posh homes. I’m not saying the bed and breakfast should be that extravagant per se, but I know how we can make it welcoming and warm. We’ll need lots of color—that’s where I’ll come in, of course. I’ll do all the superficial interior stuff, and you, you’ll be in charge of construction. I think you can manage all right; you have the build for it.”