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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ELLA WAS ON set at six, still numb, still waiting for the damn to burst as she braced herself to see a postcoital Santo, knowing that she had to somehow remain professional and not make any reference to what had happened between the sheets.
As she’d insisted on.
‘Dove Santo?’
It was the word on everyone’s lips and in the end Ella rang him, but it went straight to voice mail. So she rang the hotel and asked to be put through to his room, determined to keep the bitterness out of her voice if Marianna answered.
She didn’t.
Signor Corretti, it would seem, had checked out.
‘Marianna Tonito?’ Ella enquired.
She had checked out too.
And then her phone bleeped a text from him.
Something important came up. Know the film will be okay in your hands. Marianna has left my diary for you. I know you have a lot to deal with, but can you make sure there is champagne for after-party?
Er, no, Ella corrected herself. This was how it felt like to have a heart broken by Santo, except the numb feeling remained. The sky didn’t fall in, the damn didn’t burst and Ella found out, to her infinite surprise, that she was actually incredibly strong.
‘Something came up...’ Ella told the assembled set. ‘I’ve no idea when he’ll be back but we’re going to just carry on without Santo.’ And so, too, must she. ‘We’ll be fine.’
Because he gave them no choice but to be fine.
Was nothing at all important to him?
‘Come on.’ Ella looked at her watch. They’d wasted enough time this morning already and she was not throwing her career and the career of others away over a man, even one as drop-dead gorgeous as Santo. Yes, Ella found out she could put a broken heart on hold, because, over the next few days there were plenty of dramas, tears and tantrums, just none from Ella. She dealt with them all. She had no choice but to—there was a ship coming in and three hundred extras and she dealt with all that too. And yes, she even ordered the champagne.
‘Last day of shooting tomorrow,’ Ella told everyone. ‘I want us all here at four.’
The town was buzzing. The restaurants were open for all the extras. There was just such a high all around and Ella did her best to match it, just could not give in yet. She took a picture of the busy streets and one of the ship and thought of sending them to her mother, thought of ringing her tonight. She so badly wanted to know more about the dangerous Corretti men and the women who loved them, but Ella knew it might hurt a little more than she could bear right now, that she had to make this through without tears. She would have, Ella was sure of it, had there not been a certain someone waiting for her back at the hotel.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘TERESA CORRETTI IS here,’ the desk told her, clearly anxious that someone so revered had arrived unannounced. ‘I explained that Santo was not here, but she has waited to speak with you.’
‘Thank you.’
Ella looked over and, sure enough, there was Teresa. Ella forced a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Santo isn’t here....’
‘I was aware of that.’ Teresa kissed her on both cheeks. ‘I came to see you.’
‘Oh.’
‘Come, we go through...I believe there is a nice bar lounge.’
Ella was more than a little taken back, and perhaps so, too, were the bar lounge staff. A woman dressed in black was a rare sight in here, and that it was the Corretti matriarch made it double so.
Teresa ordered them both a drink and made polite chatter as they waited for them to arrive, asking after her mother and if she had told her about her visit.
‘I did.’ Ella smiled. ‘She didn’t even pretend not to be fascinated.’
‘How is the filming going?’
‘Very well.’ Ella struggled to keep the edge from her voice as their drinks were served. It wasn’t Teresa’s fault that her grandson had walked off mid-shoot.
‘‘You are the first woman Santo has brought to visit.’ Ella fought with the blush that was spreading on her cheeks, not sure how to tell this elegant woman that she had already been royally dumped.
‘Actually...’ Ella was supremely uncomfortable. ‘It’s really not that serious between Santo and me.’
‘Really?’ Teresa frowned. ‘I thought there was a lot of affection between the two of you.’
Ella could feel her grip tighten on the glass in her hand. Really, she couldn’t say to this elderly lady that her grandson was an exceptionally affectionate man, with many.
‘My grandson is very complicated,’ Teresa said. ‘Of all my grandchildren he is the one that...’ She gave a helpless gesture. ‘Even as a child he smiled and laughed, was the happy one, but his heart was black and closed.’
‘Santo?’ Ella checked.
‘Santo.’ Teresa nodded. ‘He is the same now. He laughs, he is wild, but he lets no one close. Always there are women, yet you are the only one he has brought to see me.’
‘Signora Corretti.’ She just didn’t know how to handle this. ‘I don’t think Santo was introducing us. I mean, I don’t think he was bringing me to visit you in the old-fashioned sense.’ She just couldn’t do this any more. ‘I think things are over between Santo and me.’
‘You think?’
And she thought of Marianna, and how he could just up and leave. Even if Ella had somehow engineered it, manifested it almost, for she had offered him on a plate such an irresistible temptation, it killed he had so readily taken the bait.
‘I know,’ Ella said. ‘There are some things you just can’t forgive.’ And she wasn’t going to discuss his sex life with his nonna, but when you loved a man like Santo there were so many other reasons to be cross. ‘He was supposed to care about this film. It was the most important thing to him, to this village, to the family name. But without a second thought he just walked off....’ Then Ella begged, more for herself than the movie, but it saved a little face. ‘Do you know where he is?’ she demanded, ‘What suddenly came up?’ She was starting to cry and didn’t want to. ‘Who he’s with?’
‘These are not questions that we ask in my family.’
No, they were so bloody corrupt, so powerful, they made their own rules and didn’t care who they mowed over in the process.
‘It’s a movie...’ Teresa shrugged. ‘You can forgive if you want to.’
‘Maybe you can.’ She looked at the older woman, who she actually adored, which was why she could be honest, rather than rude. Both knew they weren’t talking movies. ‘I never could.’
And it was a nice thing to know, to know she had boundaries, that no matter how much she might love him, that she wouldn’t simply turn a blind eye. That knowledge was enough to halt Ella’s tears, to smile and chat some more with Teresa.
To know she would get on with her life.
‘I have to get back,’ Teresa said a long while later, when Ella was drooping and doing her best not to show it. ‘Or we could have a coffee...’
Ella went to shake her head, but though she might not be like her mother, she had been brought up to abide certain rules.
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Perhaps—’ Teresa smiled ‘—we have an amaro...good for digestion.’
She had to be up long before the dawn but Ella obliged, joining Teresa in sipping the herbal syrupy drink, listening as she reminisced about Salvatore. ‘I talk too much,’ Teresa apologised.
‘It’s been lovely to talk,’ Ella said.
‘You are a good girl,’ Teresa said as they walked out to the hotel where her driver was patiently waiting. ‘You looked after me well tonight. It has been nice to be out.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’
She had, Ella realised, even if she was beyond exhausted, finding only the time to set her alarm before falling into bed, too zonked to think about Santo, too exhausted to think about the movie they would be wrapping up tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHE WOKE UP missing him though.
The final day of filming and Ella looked out from her hotel window. A stunning moon glittered off the water. She looked at the ship Santo had been so pedantic about and he hadn’t even hung around to see it.
No, this was how it felt to have a heart broken by Santo. She was starting to feel it now, not just the hurt but the little flare of anger towards herself for her handling of things. But she plunged her heart back into deep storage and dressed in her favourite denim skirt and halter top and then deliberately, as if serving herself a warning, applied some mascara and not the waterproof kind either.
She could cry it all off tonight when it was over, could take a bottle of his blasted champagne that she’d ordered up to her room and drink it warm if she so chose.
She so didn’t want ice.
It was the promise of that that got her through, because watching the final scene, with the ship behind them, watching the returning husband’s hands roam Taylor’s body and remembering Santo’s hands doing the same to hers, had her biting on her lip, willing the scene to be over, for this day to be over so she could say she had made it through filming.
Oh, there would be some studio stuff, but the bulk of it was done, or it would be a few seconds from now.
She watched husband and wife kiss, and as his hands explored her body, the infidelity was revealed. The whole set was in tears, even Ella. The ocean was just glimmering the ship, the extras all in harmony, and as the camera zoomed further in, Ella looked through her viewfinder. It could not be more perfect until she felt someone standing beside her, knew without turning her head that Santo had returned. And it could not be less perfect now because Santo was by her side and so badly she wanted him, despite everything, still she did and Ella was determined not to look around.
