Another door led to a small second bedroom with twin beds. ‘I’ll have this one,’ Ava said firmly.
‘Let’s look upstairs.’ They climbed up the spiral stairs complete with pretty wrought-iron balustrade and into the master bedroom. ‘Wow.’ This room was magical; it would feel like sleeping nestle
d in the treetops. Triangular skylights showcased the clear late afternoon skies touched with the setting sun. And the enormous bed filled nearly all available space.
In tacit consent they both beat a hasty retreat back down the stairs into the lounge.
‘Why don’t I get the stove going?’ Liam suggested.
‘Good plan. I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then I’ll check the supplies.’
As the logs caught flame and the flicker of firelight danced across the sheepskin rug Ava returned with a platter. ‘There are cold meats and English cheese and freshly baked bread and organic salad. All from the farm. Does that sound OK? We could have an indoor picnic.’
‘Perfect.’
Once settled on the sumptuous sheepskin rug, she glanced at him. ‘Thanks for finding this. It’s perfect.’
‘For social media posts?’
‘Yes, but that’s not what I meant. It’s exactly what I would have picked myself. When you talked about making a splash I thought you might choose somewhere more...public. Where we’d be seen, or snapped, or something.’
Liam shook his head. ‘You’ve done enough of that. This is more about saying thank you. I know it must be a strain maintaining this charade.’
Now the sweetness of her smile trickled warmth over his chest. ‘It’s not the charade. Truly. And remember, this is benefiting me as well. At work everyone is really getting behind the fundraiser.’
‘Then what is the matter? If it’s not the charade?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes. It does. Tell me.’
She hesitated, bought time by cutting a wedge of the tart farmhouse cheddar. ‘I’m being silly. It’s the same old story but this has made me feel...sad.’ She tugged her phone out of her jeans pocket. ‘I emailed Luca and Jodi about the fundraiser and today I finally got a reply. Here you go.’
She scrolled down and handed him the phone.
Dear Ms Casseveti
Mr Petrovelli has asked me to inform you of the following:
He is more than happy to endorse and support the fundraiser—please feel free to organise as you wish.
Unfortunately neither he nor Ms Petrovelli will be able to attend.
Liam handed the phone back as Ava sighed. ‘It’s so cold and formal. I mean, who would think we are related? I get that after what happened we aren’t a family, but surely he could answer me himself. It just makes me feel sad.’
He got that. Yet... ‘Of course it does, but I do wonder what’s going on. Luca is a businessman, a successful one at that—his attitude to Dolci doesn’t make sense.’
‘Clearly his feelings about what my father did outweigh business sense. This is personal.’
Liam shook his head. ‘If Luca was truly vindictive he would have refused to endorse anything. It’s formal, yes, but it’s not nasty. It could be there is something else at play here that we don’t know about.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘I think it’s possible.’
Ava scooped a spoon of chutney and added it to her plate. ‘That hadn’t occurred to me, but actually you have a point. It is all rather odd.’ Now she smiled and he felt a small sense of satisfaction as she relaxed slightly. ‘Thank you for your sense of perspective—I seem to have mislaid mine somewhere.’
As she finished speaking her phone rang and she glanced at the screen. ‘Sorry, I’ll have to take it. It’s my lawyer.’