• Home
  • Melissa Hill
  • The Summer Villa: a feel good summer novel about friendship, love and family from the international bestselling author Page 2

The Summer Villa: a feel good summer novel about friendship, love and family from the international bestselling author Read online

Page 2


  How the kitchen had once been a cornucopia of blue, green and yellow with its grubby tiling, mismatched cheap units, and equally mismatched plates and cups on the open shelves. All the kitchen units were now bespoke in dark wood, complementing the ochres and light blue accents, and contrasting the wider openings and light tinted walls.

  A brand-new staircase replaced the old heavy wooden steps and rails, completely redefining the formerly dark and dreary entryway. Constructed in white-coated metal, the stairs appeared as if suspended from a softly curved aperture above the main space, adding instant character and interest to the reception area.

  The interiors felt lighter, brighter, and much more spacious, with blues and greys of the ocean incorporated primarily in the soft furnishings, bringing a restful classic feel that could be easily updated.

  The colour ochre recurred throughout, contrasting with new glass openings overhead and lighter shades on the walls. Bright terrazzo flooring had been installed throughout in place of the dark terracotta mishmash that had welcomed Kim six years before.

  ‘Actually, no,’ he replied. ‘I meant to, but you know … with Emilia,’ he added gently, referring to his wife who had recently been diagnosed with dementia.

  ‘How is she?’

  Kim noted the way Antonio’s chest rose and fell before he spoke. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to come to terms with the fact that the person you love will eventually lose all memory of you and the life you shared.

  It was difficult enough for Kim to get her head around the decline of a sunny, vibrant woman into the confused and frightened soul she apparently was now.

  Not that she’d seen Emilia recently, she thought guiltily, given how busy she’d been getting this place ready for the launch. The Bergers were based in Milan, while Kim lived in California, where her husband was from, and whenever she travelled to Italy to check on the renovation project, her short visits had been restricted to the Amalfi Coast.

  ‘It is hard to say. Sometimes she is perfectly lucid, the same Emilia, while others …’ he trailed off solemnly. ‘The doctors have been talking about residential care but I think that is premature,’ he added, almost to himself. Kim knew the very idea of it was killing him.

  She stepped forward to give him another hug.

  ‘It’ll be lovely to see her at the party and once all of this is over, I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with you both.’

  He patted her back paternally. ‘It’s OK, I’m coming to terms with it, and for the most part she is still my Emilia. We’ve had a good life and have been through a lot together. She gave me two beautiful children and almost forty years of true love,’ he said with a fond smile. ‘I would be nowhere else than by her side.’

  ‘Then I’m even more grateful that you carved out the time for me. I know it must’ve been a wrench to leave her.’

  He shook his head lightly. ‘No, no, she is excited about this. You needed me also, and of course she and I are not just your partners, but your friends, too. In any case,’ he teased, ‘perhaps she will not even miss me.’

  Though she knew he was joking, she could still hear the pain behind his words. Ever the optimist, she knew he was trying his utmost to not let his wife’s diagnosis blight their lives or dampen their spirits.

  Now he took both of her hands in his. ‘So how are you, bella?’

  Kim smiled gamely but knew it didn’t reach her eyes and Antonio would likely see through her own pretence just as easily. ‘Just OK,’ she answered, averting her gaze. ‘I’m a bit tired. There’s been a lot going on and still loads to get through. At least I’m here on the ground now, the invites are out and the guest list is finalised …’

  ‘Well, it’s a long list. Are your friends going to make it? The ladies who were with you that summer?’

  Kim had almost forgotten she’d first met Antonio the same time as Annie and Colette. The three had come together as strangers six years ago at the villa but in the ensuing years had managed to maintain their friendship, albeit at long-distance with their contact now sporadic.

  She and Colette had been guests at each other’s weddings, and she’d managed to meet up with Annie on a business trip to Dublin the year before last.

  Of course, social media made it easy to keep track of each other’s lives, but Kim missed the closeness they’d shared that summer. It would be so lovely to get the gang back together in person for a reunion. Here at the villa, especially.

  ‘I hope so,’ Kim said, realising that she needed to check in on the RSVPs. She’d sent invites to both women, asking them and their respective plus ones to next month’s official Villa Dolce Vita Wellness and Cultural Retreat launch celebration, including flights and a hotel stay over a long weekend.

  Once the party was done and the centre officially open for reservations, Kim would be temporarily free from work obligations. She relished the chance of catching up with them here and revisiting some of their old haunts.

  She hooked her arm in Antonio’s. ‘Let’s keep going. I’ve still got lots to show you. The bedrooms have been transformed, too, and wait till you see where we managed to slot in the massage area.’

  When he’d finished his tour of the accommodation area, and its new state-of-the-art wellness facilities, Antonio nodded with satisfaction. ‘You’ve done an amazing job, Kim. The investors will be more than happy.’

  ‘I just hope it’s enough to get those reservations flooding in.’ She smiled. ‘Now, how about lunch? We can head down to Il Buco, maybe? I’m feeling in the mood for pizzaiola beef.’

  Antonio looked at her with a sad smile. ‘Bella, in all the time I’ve been here you have not once mentioned your husband. Gabe is coming next month, too, I hope?’

  Kim’s heart stuttered guiltily. ‘Of course. He and Lily are flying in soon, actually.’ Her three-year-old, a beautiful little girl she barely saw these days.

  Gabriel’s plan was to have some long overdue family time in Italy together before everything kicked off. Kim only hoped that things would run smoothly in the run-up to the launch so that she could carve out the necessary time.

  Much like Antonio, her husband was an optimist at heart.

  Now she could feel her mentor’s eyes following her as they meandered back out to the courtyard and down the steps to the pool terrace perched on the edge of the property. When she turned to look at him, the expression on his face said it all.

  ‘Don’t …’

  He smiled weakly. ‘I’m sorry but thirty-odd years of marriage has taught me well. I know trouble when I see it.’ He stepped closer, taking Kim’s hand in his as he patted her knuckles. ‘Why don’t we go to lunch and you tell me everything? All right?’

  But Kim didn’t want to talk about her personal life. She really didn’t. She had enough on her mind.

  ‘I won’t take no for an answer,’ he insisted gently and she knew there was no point in refusing.

  While she’d never been able to talk to her father, to trust or confide in him, Antonio was so much more reliable. He understood her, sometimes even better than she did herself.

  Minutes later, Kim leaned her head back against the plush leather seats of Antonio’s convertible Maserati as the car wound along the coast towards Sorrento. She gazed out over the water, catching sight of the magnificent island of Capri in the distance. She held her hand out, allowing the warm breeze to pass through her fingers as sunlight danced across the dazzling blue of the sea.

  She would never, ever tire of this view and doubted there were many others in the world to compare.

  This place had transformed her life six years ago.

  Perhaps it could do the same again now.

  Chapter 2

  Then

  She could hear them already. The authoritative voices of her folks filled the house as Peter and Gloria Weston returned from yet another trip abroad.

  Kim turned her music up and rolled over on her bed.

  It was Saturday, the weekend, and she was doing
what she did best – nothing. Which seemed to be all her life was about.

  A steady stream of nothing.

  It was bad enough that they still ran her life from a distance; with them home she’d have no peace.

  Kim was in no hurry to face that. She turned her back to her bedroom door and rolled over.

  She was twenty-nine years old and was still living at home, despite spending four years at business school at Cornell. And for what? She wasn’t exactly sure, other than the fact that it was her parents’ will at the time, and their dime. She enjoyed her studies, but since then, hadn’t had much opportunity to put her knowledge to work.

  After graduation, her venture capitalist father had given her a position in his company, though he never seemed to let her do anything except put in the hours. And, of course, wine and dine any clients he sent her way.

  She learned very early on in life to go along with what her folks wanted, or forfeit the luxury of their purse strings.

  Kim liked her life, her Gucci bags and jaunts to the Caribbean, summers in the Hamptons and never-ending nights out in Manhattan. Or at least she did when she was in her teens and early twenties.

  As time went on, things had begun to seem samey and, well… boring. But as much as she disliked being a pawn in the games her parents played, she didn’t really have the inclination or the means to deny them.

  Now a hand on her shoulder was shaking her awake, though it was unnecessary as Kim wasn’t sleeping. She groaned inwardly, feeling a bit like a teenager.

  ‘Fast asleep in the middle of the day? How typical,’ her mother’s voice chided as Kim grabbed her iPhone and paused Spotify.

  ‘Nice to see you, too, Mother.’ She gave Gloria a mirthless grin that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and her mother gave her a deeply condescending glance in return.

  Kim was used to those glances. She’d been getting them her entire life.

  ‘Do you plan on staying in bed all day, Kimberley?’

  ‘If I can help it, yes,’ she answered as she attempted to turn over. Attempted was as far as she got. ‘Tough night last night.’

  ‘I hope you took time out of your … busy partying schedule to meet with the tech people your father requested? They were only in town for a couple of days so it was very important to him that you entertain them.’

  There was always some up-and-coming entrepreneur or other business type she was expected to ‘entertain’ on her parents’ behalf – apparently because she was hot, blonde, and knew all the trendiest haunts in Manhattan.

  Kim hated her ditzy socialite role; it all felt so fake and manipulative. She felt she was capable of so much more, but there was no arguing. She’d tried many times and it never worked out well.

  ‘I took them to Hirohisa yesterday,’ she answered, rolling her eyes. ‘They loved it. Mr Clarke had a lovely time and said he looked forward to seeing Daddy in San Francisco.’

  ‘Good,’ her mother replied. ‘Very good.’

  Gloria was sitting on the edge of the bed, just by Kim’s hip. She always sat in the same place; it was the perfect vantage point – far enough from her daughter to avoid direct eye contact and close enough to corner her if she tried to move away.

  Her mother took everything into consideration before she acted, which was probably the main reason for her parents’ success. She weighed the odds, tested the waters and then launched her attack. In her mother’s long history of battles (as Kim saw them), she had never failed in her conquests.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ Kim asked casually as she listened for noise within the house. It was silent, almost as if her father wasn’t there.

  ‘Downstairs on the phone. Your uncle called.’

  ‘Did he?’ Kim said enthusiastically. Ted was the only good thing in their family as far as she was concerned. He wasn’t the raging success her parents were – far less acclaimed in his field as a lowly accountant – but he was fun and Kim liked him a lot. Much more than her folks.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re so happy about it; he’s probably just trying to get your father to loan him more money to invest in yet another harebrained financial scheme.’ She wrinkled her nose in disdain.

  ‘Why do you never have anything good to say about Uncle Ted? He’s your brother.’

  ‘I have no control over family – sadly. Ted made his choices and I’ve made mine. The results speak for themselves.’

  Her mother was always so goddamn controlled. Not once in Kim’s entire life had she ever seen her overcome by emotion. Most of the time she wondered if Gloria actually had any for anyone or anything outside her work.

  Not even her father seemed to move her. It was always the job. Kim wasn’t sure if even that made her happy. There was no way of telling.

  ‘Stop lazing around up here and come downstairs,’ her mother ordered with a solid pat on Kim’s shoulder. ‘Your father and I need to speak with you about something.’

  Kim sighed heavily. ‘What is it? I was in the middle of something.’

  ‘Downstairs in two.’

  She watched as her mother swept out of the room as if nothing had transpired and Kim’s protests meant diddly squat. Which was exactly the case. It was just expected that she’d do as her mother demanded. Her words and opinions were meaningless in this house, in this family.

  She picked up her phone again and texted her best friend Natasha.

  Meet at the club tonight? I know I’m seriously gonna need to blow off steam when this day is over. Ugh.

  She slapped her phone down on the mattress and forced herself from her bed, realising there was no putting it off.

  She might as well find out whatever latest scheme her parents wanted her involved in. Probably just another skinny nerd with a great idea her father wanted Kim to show a good time by pretending to be Paris Hilton.

  It was embarrassing, not to mention demeaning.

  She might have legs up to her armpits and green eyes that could charm George Clooney, but that didn’t mean she was dumb.

  Minutes later, Kim sat, stunned.

  Her parents had had a lot of shitty ideas about a lot of stuff, but this was by far the most outlandish scenario they’d ever come up with for her.

  ‘Are you guys serious?’ she asked for the second time, slightly dazed. ‘Or I am misunderstanding in some crazy way?’

  ‘Depends on what you understand,’ her mother answered coolly. ‘If you understand that you’ve had a very privileged life, with opportunities that you’ve repeatedly squandered, that you’re not getting any younger, and that we feel it’s time you got serious about your future – then yes, you understand us correctly.’

  ‘You actually want me not just to entertain but actually seduce some random stranger,’ Kim repeated hotly, her eyes wide.

  ‘He’s not a random stranger; you’ve already met Spencer Andrews. You just haven’t had a chance to spend a whole lot of time with him, that’s all. That’s what this is about. A summer in England, all expenses paid, to spend quality time with Spencer – and Lord and Lady Andrews, of course.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Kim’s horrified gaze shifted to her father. ‘Dad, do you understand what you guys are actually asking of me?’

  ‘It’s not much what we’re asking, and it’s a potentially advantageous move for you, too.’ Peter levelled his gaze on her. ‘We have paved a great path for you in life, Kimberley. We’ve always given you everything you could want – definitely more than most. Now it’s your turn to make a move that could affect your future and ours, too, of course.’ He spoke as if he were giving her a choice, whereas Kim knew better. ‘And, honey, you know like your mom pointed out, you’re really not getting any younger. That pretty face won’t last forever.’

  Kim was floored, not to mention wounded to the core. In all her life she’d never been made to feel like nothing more than a piece of ass. And by her own father!

  Whenever she did take his business prospects out on the town to show them a good time, she never just left it at t
hat. Instead she talked to them about their hopes and intentions, teased out their strategies, and subtly influenced them to choose Weston Inc.

  She’d thought her father knew this and quietly appreciated it. But he hadn’t even noticed.

  ‘You actually expect me to do this? You actually expect me to coldly pursue a guy I barely know? With marriage as the endgame? I’ve never even been in a proper relationship with someone I like, so why would I want to be involved with someone I don’t?’

  She was trying her best to contain her anger and dismay. This was like something from a horror movie, playing out before her eyes. People didn’t do this in real life. They didn’t just pimp out their daughters as part of a freakin’ … business move!

  But Kim realised, it was basically what her folks had always done. Except this time they wanted her to go a step further and actually try to land this English guy as a potential husband, taking her off their hands in the process.

  ‘Dad,’ she pleaded softly. ‘Please, don’t ask me to do this.’

  ‘Kim, don’t act like a child,’ Gloria tsked. ‘Do you think the life this family has comes free of cost? There’s a price and we all have to pay it. Your father paid it. I paid it. Now it’s your turn. You can’t expect us to bankroll you forever. It’s high time you had a plan for the rest of your life and we think this is the perfect start.’

  Why had she thought her father would help her? He never had before. Whatever her mother wanted she got. It was clear that what Gloria wanted now was a familial connection with some kind of gentry and her father the backing of this English bigwig’s multi-billion company.

  Capitalism at its finest. A merger of the purest kind and all it would cost was Kim’s sanity.

  Her heart sank. They were asking her to offer herself up for their futures. It wasn’t about her. It was about them. It was always about them. She gritted her teeth.

  ‘I’m not doing it,’ she told them, her chin lifting. It was pointless, she knew, but she wasn’t going to just go along with something this crazy without a fight. ‘And you have no right to ask—’