Page 25 of It's All Sun and Games

Bloody hell, even his potentially dishonest side is sexy.

‘My sister, Lucia, is getting married next week,’ he explains, running a hand through his hair nervously. ‘Here, some people are still a little old-fashioned. To be single at my age is… is a problem, for some. Lucia is my younger sister, so since I arrived back from Roma where I was working, for the wedding, people keep asking me, “Andrea, when will you get married? Why are you still single?”’

I nod my head sympathetically because I relate to that in a big way. It’s not that I feel like the people around me are old-fashioned, more that they are just nosy and judgemental.

‘I hear you,’ I say with a sigh. ‘People are always asking me why I’m still single – as though there might be something I’m doing, or not doing, that I hadn’t realised.’

Andrea nods thoughtfully for a moment.

‘The problem is, I lied,’ he continues. ‘I have been working away, in Roma, for a while – I’ve only been back a few days. I knew that, with the wedding coming up, there would be lots of people asking if I had a girlfriend, and that I would have to say something – even just to my family. So I tell them I met a girl, in Roma, and when they all ask me if it’s serious, I say yes. I don’t know how it happened but, for some reason, they think it’s you, and that we’re getting married.’

My jaw practically hits the floor but then, as I try to figure it all out, suddenly I can see where it all got mixed up. Shit. You’ll never guess who is to blame…

‘Oh, God, I think that might be my fault,’ I blurt. ‘I didn’t know how to tell your parents that I was me, when I first saw them, so I mimed that I was here for a wedding. I did this.’

I re-enact the cringe-worthy mime I performed earlier, feeling utterly ridiculous as I do so. At this point, I might as well have done the full performance from Beyoncé’s ‘Single Ladies’ music video.

Andrea laughs at my impromptu dance.

‘Ah,’ he replies, his expression a mixture of understanding and amusement.

‘Shit, I’ve still got your mum’s ring on,’ I point out, noticing it catch the sunlight. ‘Suddenly this makes a lot more sense.’

‘Sì, it was the ring my papa used, when he proposed to my mamma, and when my nonno proposed to my nonna – it’s sort of a family tradition,’ he explains. ‘My mamma was angry that I had proposed to you without it. I thought it might be best if I take you to your hotel, and get the ring back, before I tell her the truth.’

I try to remove it from my finger but it won’t come off.

‘Oh my God, it’s stuck,’ I say. ‘My hands have swelled up, I think from the heat, and I can’t get it off.’

‘That’s okay, don’t worry,’ Andrea says reassuringly. ‘Just cool down, relax, it will come off later. It’s not like I do have anyone I need to give it to, and anyway, it suits you.’

‘Sorry,’ I offer sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment colour my cheeks. ‘I know I didn’t know about your… fake relationship status, but I am sorry for making things more complicated for you.’

I really do feel for him. When you stop and think about it, really, this whole situation he’s got himself into is giving off a really specific energy – mine. This is exactly the kind of stupid stunt I would pull, landing myself in a silly situation, all to try to achieve something that was supposed to be simple. I relate to his situation even more now.

Andrea shakes his head, his smile warm and forgiving.

‘It’s not your fault,’ he insists, his tone reassuring. ‘I will get you to your hotel, and then I will go home and I will tell them the truth. See, this is what happens when you lie.’

He laughs at the absurdity of the situation he has created and his laughter is so contagious, I can’t help but join in.

‘I will keep that in mind,’ I say through my grin.

‘Here we are,’ Andrea announces as he turns off the road, through large metal gates.

There is a sign at the entrance to the gate, carved into a large stone, that has the resort name: Riva Del Mare. We’re here.

With everything that has happened, I’m not early at all, I’m right on time. It’s been a fun little detour, I suppose, but it’s back to reality now.

As we drive through the large metal gates, my eyes widen in awe at our surroundings. Towering palm trees – tall as buildings – sway gently in the breeze, their fronds casting dappled shadows over the pristine grounds. Beneath them the roads are lined with the most beautiful fuchsia-coloured bushes, the likes of which I’ve never seen back in Lancashire, which give a stunning pop of colour to the green and earthy colours it interrupts. Oh, and the fountain, wow. It’s huge – technically a pool, surely – with ornate sculptures and a mixture of bubbling and cascading water features. The place is paradise; so tranquil and picture-perfect, like something out of a postcard.

‘Wow,’ I practically exhale, unable to contain my amazement. ‘This place is incredible, right?’

Andrea chuckles beside me, his eyes twinkling as he smiles – with amusement, I think. Then I realise.

‘Right, you live here, you see this all the time,’ I say with a mildly embarrassed laugh.

‘I don’t live at this resort,’ he kindly points out. ‘This place is… wow… bellissimo.’

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