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‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ Emily’s voice was small and he realised he’d sounded harsher than he meant. ‘I meant I truly think your mum is fantastic. Not all mums put their kids first.’
He recalled her words from yesterday, the allusion to her mum’s multiple marriages, her desire to have the type of arrangement where she put her family first, and he spoke without thought, ‘I guess yours didn’t?’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry. Now I have overstepped.’
‘It’s OK. You’re right. Don’t get me wrong, my mum loves me, she does, but she didn’t put me first. Not when it came to her relationships—she seemed to always fall for men who had no interest in children. So I became a nuisance; she was worried I’d get in the way, drive them away, and she wanted to focus her whole being on her new man.’
‘That can’t have been easy.’ The idea of a young Emily being shunted out of the way, made to feel like an unwanted impediment, made him both angry and sad.
As if she sensed this, she gave a quick shake of her head. ‘It wasn’t, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. In all fairness to Mum, she had never planned on being a parent, and she does her best. When she isn’t pursuing love or getting over a broken heart Mum is loads of fun to be with. I have plenty of good childhood memories.’ She met his gaze, her chin jutting out. ‘So there is no need to be sorry,’ she said, echoing his own words of a few minutes before, and he realised she wanted pity as little as he did.
‘I understand that, and I am glad you and your mum do have a positive relationship.’ He admired the way Emily took the good and didn’t bemoan the bad.
‘And I am glad that you succeeded and now you can provide your mum with as much chocolate as she wants. You started a business off your own back with strength and resolve, not helped by family friends or inherited wealth. And you should be proud of that.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘But you aren’t, are you? When you talk about your company, your passion and pride is unmistakeable. But you must be equally proud of yourself.’
Her words jolted through him. ‘Of course, I am.’ But the words lacked conviction even to him. Even if that didn’t make sense. He’d been driven all his life to be a success, to rival his father, and until this moment he’d have sworn he was damn proud of his journey. Just because he didn’t want to publicise his story didn’t mean he wasn’t proud of it. Did it? Emotions began to swirl inside him, triggered by the sincerity of Emily’s gaze as she continued to speak.
‘What you have achieved is...superlative. You’ve built your company up on talent, guts and determination.’
Luca listened to the words, saw admiration in the depths of her brown eyes and the truth hit him: the realisation that he didn’t deserve admiration or accolades from this woman. From anyone.
His voice was harsh as he spoke. ‘Palazzo di Cioccolato isn’t built on guts and determination and talent. It’s built on revenge. All I wanted was to outdo my father.’ The whole raison d’être of this company was to defeat James Casseveti.’ And now bitterness pervaded his voice as he realised that, whilst he’d prided himself on getting over his dad, in truth his whole life’s work had been governed by James. Frustrated anger roiled through him.
‘Then you made something positive out of something negative.’ She leant forward, placed a hand on his arm, and he caught his breath; her touch diminished the anger as warmth entered the mix. She looked up at him and his heart twisted at the serious look in her eyes, the depth of belief. ‘What your father did to your mother, to you, was wrong. You could have taken that negativity and desire for revenge and done something bad with that. Instead you did good. You found a talent inside yourself and you have made a success of your life. Of your company and yourself.’
How he wanted to believe her, but emotions twisted his gut. How could he be proud? Because in the end he’d failed. Death had robbed him of the revenge he’d dreamed of and he was left knowing his life’s purpose could never now be achieved.
Her hand moved from his arm and slipped into his and she squeezed gently. ‘Be proud of your story, Luca. I would be.’
‘Even if it ended in failure. In the end I never had my chance to show my dad that I made it. Without him. He’ll never see me set up my flagship London store. I’ll never send him an invite to the opening party.’ He gave a small mirthless laugh. ‘It sounds stupid, does it not? That was my life goal.’
‘No. It doesn’t sound stupid. But you didn’t fail. The very act of living your life as you have, of being a true family with your mum and Jodi, all you have achieved despite what he did to you all—that is success and you mustn’t let anything take that away from you.’ She continued, ‘Set up your London flagship store and dedicate it to your mother, to your own success. Full stop.’
As he saw the conviction on her face for the first time in a long time he felt a small buzz of enthusiasm about a London launch, a faint sensation, but it was there, and he took her hand in his, squeezed it gently. ‘Thank you. I will think about it.’
‘I’m glad.’ Her smile was so warm it seemed to envelop him with a sense of well-being, a lightness that prompted him to lean forward and brush his lips against her cheek. Her closeness, her scent, the tickle of her hair all combined to whirl his head, the impact somehow equal to when he had really kissed her.
He heard her intake of breath, knew he had to break this spell, had to change the dynamic to one he actually understood. Pulling away gently, he rose to his feet, made a show of glancing at his watch. ‘We’d better get going. The farm awaits.’
CHAPTER TEN
THE JOURNEY TO the farm held Emily speechless; the sheer verdant lushness of the landscape took her breath and all her energy as she frantically tried to capture it on film, relieved to have something to do, something to focus on other than Luca. Something had happened back there—somehow they’d both ended up sharing and she wasn’t sure how or why.
‘Don’t forget to also look and take it in,’ Luca recommended from beside her and after a while she did just that. Hills gently undulated against a background of majesty where mountains loomed in the distance, the rush of water from a waterfall vied with the cacophony of the wildlife and in the end she simply watched as the vivid, vibrant scenery flashed past. Forest dark and thick with deciduous green, the dip and rise of dense valleys spun her head with the sheer force of nature.
Until they reached the farm itself, where she took in the sweet fragrant scents of coconut and the rich smell of soil and earth. She walked with L
uca to the whitewashed house where she knew Samar lived and worked.
Before they could knock the door swung open and a man emerged. Grizzled salt-and-pepper hair, dark, weather-beaten skin and deep-set eyes creased with laughter lines, he stepped towards Luca, a smile on his face.
‘Welcome, Luca.’
Luca moved into a quick embrace, stood back and the two men clasped hands, and instinctively Emily held her camera up, snapped the picture even as she asked permission.
‘No problem.’
Luca gestured to Emily. ‘This is Emily. Emily, Samar.’
‘I am happy to meet you,’ Samar said, his English fluent and his smile wide.
