The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит
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she looked away from Taylor for a second, and over to Santo, but he just stood there, his arms folded, watching the action, watching Taylor, as she now must.
Taylor’s blue eyes were open. She was choking in tears. Then, even though they already had the shots, she repeated it just in case, turned her head to Vince, blanched as if she expected criticism and then her face moved in for his kiss. And what a kiss it would be, because now Ella knew for sure that this movie would work.
‘Cut.’
The second Ella said it Taylor burst out laughing, from the high and the elation of a perfect scene.
‘That was amazing!’ Ella enthused. ‘Just brilliant.’ And she told Taylor the same again later when she bought her a drink, shy to be sitting and talking with someone as famous as Taylor Carmichael.
‘You’d better get used to it,’ Taylor said when Ella admitted how nervous she was to be talking to her off set. ‘If this film does well, you’re going to be known soon. You’ll have scripts arriving…’
‘I haven’t really thought about after,’ Ella admitted. ‘I’m just trying to concentrate on getting this right. I know there won’t be an opportunity like this again.’ Her voice trailed off for a moment. ‘I’ve been so focused on work I’ve forgotten what’s important.’
‘We all do it at times,’ Taylor said. ‘Santo will understand that.’ Ella burnt red that what was going on was so obvious to everyone, but then it turned to guilt as Taylor continued. ‘But things are pretty hellish for the Correttis at the moment.’ She was direct without being indiscreet and Ella caught her eye. Taylor would know only too well what was going on at the moment, that compromising photo that surprisingly hadn’t contained Santo had still had the scandal of the Corretti name attached to it! ‘Maybe it’s time to forget about work for a while,’ Taylor suggested.
It was.
Ella finished up her drink and thanked Taylor again for her amazing work today and then headed to the lift, not to the safety of her room, but the danger of his, for she wanted to say sorry again. She wanted to explain, and properly this time, why she had flinched when he had raised his hand. And it had nothing to do with playing the sympathy card. It was about telling the truth and admitting just why she hadn’t felt able to give them a proper chance. Ella took a deep breath and knocked on his suite door.
Silence, and then as she knocked again, it opened to her dread—the stunning Marianna, dressed in a hotel bathrobe, her lacy bra on clear show. She barely blinked when she saw that it was Ella.
‘Scusi,’ she said. ‘I thought you were room service.’ She gave a smile. ‘Santo is just in the shower.’
And Ella said nothing.
‘Ah, here it is now…’ Marianna said as a large ice bucket and bottle of champagne was delivered to the room and a large table of food was wheeled in. All covered, of course, but Ella could guess as to what lay beneath and it didn’t take much guesswork to know what she was interrupting.
‘By the bed,’ Marianna ordered.
Just as Santo liked it.
‘Did you need him for anything in particular?’
‘Nothing that won’t keep,’ Ella said and walked more than a little numb back to her room, waiting for the pain to hit, waiting, as she secretly always had been, to find out how it felt to have a heart broken by Santo.
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,