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I don’t know what to do. Should I tell Mike about what has happened with Jax? Mike is a good friend, he would help, but then I don’t know what I am dragging him into. Plus, I’d hate to get Jax into more trouble. I’m hurt by the way Jax spoke to me on the phone. Ordering me about like I was nothing to him. He didn’t once ask me how I was. This is the end for us, I’m sure of it.
I could do with laying low for a while until it all blows over. Maybe I will go to Italy, get away from it all. No, don’t be silly Katie; you can’t just drop everything and go. Shaking my head to myself, I carry on highlighting the clients hair in front of me.
On my break, I go into the staffroom and get the wedding invitation out of my bag. I scrutinise it again, but I don’t see anything new. There’s no contact number or address. Just the wedding date and our names.
Looking at the plane ticket, I realise it is for tonight. I check the flight number online to check if it is real, and it is. This is crazy, but I think I am going to go. It’s just a little holiday until things with Jax sort themselves out, I tell myself. It will be nice to catch up with Leo again and see what he has been up to. I hope he got away from his father. He sounded so strict and not a very nice man.
I speak to Bella, and she gives the go-ahead for some emergency annual leave starting tomorrow. As soon as I finish work, I throw a load of clothes in my little suitcase, quickly change, grab my passport, and get a cab to the airport.
I find the right check-in desk and hand over my ticket.
“Good evening, Miss Harris. We have a note here to upgrade you on check-in. So, you will be seated in row two in first class. As you are flying first class, you have exclusive use of the Galleries First Lounge, where everything is complimentary. The door is to the right. On behalf of British Airways, I would like to wish you a safe and enjoyable trip. If there’s anything we can help you with during your journey with us, please speak to one of our representatives. Have a good evening, Miss Harris.”
I am stunned. Ok, is Leo now rich? I mean, I know we were only teenagers when we met, but he never came across as having money. He was always so scared of being seen in the hotel. Like he wasn’t allowed in there because he couldn’t afford it. He used to say he didn’t belong there, as if his family was from a different class to those staying in the 5-star hotel. It didn’t and doesn’t matter to me, but this upgrade has shocked me. I was going to offer to pay him back for the flight when I got there, but I’m not sure I’ll have enough in my bank for a first-class ticket.
I go into the lounge and take advantage of the complimentary food and wine. Feeling a lot more relaxed with a full tummy and a little alcohol running through my veins. We board on time and I’m soon sat comfortably in my seat.
“Good evening, Mis Harris. Here is the menu for your meal on board the flight tonight. If you’d like to get comfortable, I will return shortly to take your food and drinks order.”
Wow, just, wow. Well, I haven’t been on a plane like this before. Normally there are three or four seats in the area where my one seat/bed/sofa room is. There’s a large reclining leather seat and an electric retractable footrest, so you can pretty much lie down. There’s a table at the side of me, which, again, with the touch of a button, moves out Infront of you.
I order a filet steak, and it is cooked to perfection. Enjoying a few glasses of champagne, the flight is soon over, and I’m disappointed when I have to leave the plane. However, the bag of complimentary gifts does soften the blow.
I collect my suitcase from the carousel and make my way out to arrivals. The alcohol seems to be wearing off, and I’m feeling quite nervous now. I am expecting to see Leo waiting for me by the exit. At least, I’m hoping he is, as I haven’t been given an address to get a taxi to. Oh gosh, what am I doing here? This is madness. Deciding if he’s not here in ten minutes, I will book into a hotel nearby and wait and see if he contacts me. Surely he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to then leave me alone in Italy.
I search the crowds looking for someone who looks like a 30-year-old version of Leo. After ten minutes, the crowds have disappeared, and there’s no Leo. I join the taxi queue outside the airport and google hotels nearby. Feeling a little disappointed after imaging our reunion, Leo and I running into each other’s arms, him picking me up and spinning me around, I give myself a stern talking to; this is not some cute romance novel, this is real life-
First of all, It has been a long time since Leo and I saw each other; we won’t be picking up where we left off.
Second of all, who knows what is happening with Jax? Although after our last conversation, I am not sure he has any feelings for me at all, and to be honest, I’m not sure how I really feel about him. We had only been together for 6 months, though, and I actually can’t see us spending the rest of our lives together. But that conversation should be had with him before starting up anything else.
And third of all, I am in a beautiful country; I want to relax and enjoy it without any drama. I’m supposed to be escaping man trouble, not finding more.
As I approach the end of the taxi queue, a deep voice behind me makes me jump.
“Katherine Harris?”
I turn the see a large Italian man in a black pinstripe suit. But it’s not Leo.
Chapter 3
Katie
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Your transport is over here.” The thick Italian accent says as he nods towards a black SUV with blacked-out windows. The other people in the queue look from me to him with concern. I question whether to go with him or not. He walks towards the vehicle shouting over his shoulder as he does.
“Mr. Guerra does not like to wait!” He obviously knows Leo, so I decide to go with him. I’ll go and meet Leo and catch up; then, I will book a hotel. I am feeling quite on edge, actually. Who does Leo think he is? Come to think of it, it’s a bit presumptuous expecting me to come all the way here with not even a phone call. Plus, rude not to even pick me up himself. Mr. Guerra doesn’t like to wait, does he not? Well, I am going to tell him a few things I don’t like when I see him. I’ll see him now, thank him for the plane ticket and then go to enjoy my holiday in Italy, on my own.
Grunting from the grumpy Italian quickly brings me back to the moment. He reluctantly takes my case and opens the back door for me; I climb in. As I’m still feeling a little tipsy, I decide to kill him with kindness.
“Thank you so much for picking up Mr.?”
“Marco.”
“Mr Marco.”
“No! Just Marco.”
