Page 38 of It's All Sun and Games

‘That would be great, Andrea, thanks,’ Rick replies.

We say our goodbyes – as best we can, with the language barrier – and then wait until we’re alone.

Now it’s just me, Rick (plus Julie, who is sitting silently behind him as per), James, Liz, Cait and Henry.

Rick claps his hands together, making one of the loudest slapping noises I think I’ve ever heard – it sounds like it hurt.

‘All right, team, let’s get those creative juices flowing. We have a golden opportunity here,’ Rick says, trying to hype us up. ‘I don’t care if you work individually, in pairs, or what, but what I want is at least three pitches. Get yourselves into your teams, get inspired, and come up with three killer ideas, capiche?’

I wonder if Italians actually say ‘capiche’ – I highly doubt it. I’m sure it’s more of an American-Italian mobster thing. Still, he’s trying, I suppose.

‘Got it,’ James replies with a smirk, clearly amused by Rick’s enthusiasm.

‘Consider it done,’ Liz adds with determination.

‘Sounds like a plan.’ Cait nods in agreement.

‘Totally on board with that,’ Henry adds.

Ah, fuck. I am always last when this happens and, by the time it’s my turn, I can’t think of a single original thing to say.

‘Yeah!’ I just say, with cheerleader levels of enthusiasm, not that it comes across all that well, I’m sure.

Thankfully Rick doesn’t make anything of it. I can see the mocking smile creeping across Liz’s lips, though.

‘All right, then. Go get on with it,’ Rick commands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As I notice Andrea on his way back, I decide to make my way over to meet him instead.

‘Let’s go for a walk,’ I suggest with a smile. ‘I fancy stretching my legs.’

‘Va bene,’ he replies, his Italian accent adding a charming twist to his words. ‘Okay, I mean.’

I smile to myself. There is something so incredibly sexy about the little bursts of Italian that pepper Andrea’s perfect English. It just gives everything he says so much charm and personality.

‘Let’s go this way,’ I suggest, steering us towards the main hotel.

The gentle sound of the fountains greets us as we pass by, and I take a moment to soak in the atmosphere. The scent of fresh flowers mingles with the crisp air – even the fountain water smells good, somehow. This place really is a dream.

‘Okay, so, I know it’s not exactly part of the deal, but do you think you could help me with my pitch?’ I ask him. ‘It sounds like Beppe wants something authentically Italian, and I really want to win the pitch, and it turns out I know a guy who is both Italian and a foodie…’

A smile lights up Andrea’s face, which is a relief.

‘Of course, it sounds like fun,’ he replies eagerly. ‘Actually, I have a request for you too.’

‘Oh?’ I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden request, although it’s not like I can say no to anything now, is it? Not after asking another favour of him.

‘My parents would like to invite you for dinner,’ he explains, smiling in a way that acknowledges how weird it ultimately is. ‘They suggested tonight, at our family restaurant. They’re eager to get to know you better, but the good thing is that they don’t speak English, so all the translating will buy us time to reply.’

I laugh at the thought of Andrea trying to navigate the conversation over dinner, in a mixture of English and Italian. In a way, it takes the pressure off me.

‘Lucia might join us, along with her future husband,’ he adds. ‘She speaks good English, but she’s very nice, and she’s too distracted with her wedding plans. What do you say?’

‘You had me at dinner,’ I joke. ‘Plus, I’m dying to see your family’s restaurant.’

‘Okay, great!’ Andrea beams, his enthusiasm infectious.

‘Va bene,’ I respond, hoping I got that right.

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