What a Girl Wants (11 page)

‘We’re so glad you decided to come,’ Kekipi said, waving for two men in light grey trousers and white shirts, apparently the official ensembles of the Milanese Bennett household, to whisk our suitcases out of sight. ‘It’s been a very dramatic week. Senior and Junior have not been getting along at all and Senior is having what can only be described as one of his “artistic” moments.’

‘Is that good?’ I asked, following him into the entranceway of the house. Kekipi pursed his lips and shook his head.

I’d met Al’s son, Artie, in Hawaii and he was a curious man to say the least. There was a lot of tension between them, and while I loved Al with a fierce and fiery passion reserved for the very best grandpa substitutes the world had to offer, clearly something was up between father and son. Plus, Artie had a handlebar moustache, and given that he did not work at a circus, that made me immediately suspicious.

‘While I am pleased to see him so active after such a long time,’ he replied with an arched eyebrow, ‘he needs to calm down a little. He isn’t as young as he used to be and Mr Bennett the younger isn’t nearly as tolerant of his father’s whims as we might all like.’

‘Where is Al?’ I asked, trying not to trip over my feet as I tiptoed across the beautiful, intricately tiled floors, my shoulders unrolling as the air conditioning washed over me. ‘Is he here?’

‘We arrived yesterday,’ Kekipi confirmed. ‘He’s in his room, working, working, working. He’ll be at dinner later.’

When I finally forced my eyes off the floor, I saw that there were flowers everywhere. Every surface held vases upon vases of beautiful, freshly cut blooms, all of them in shades of white and peach.

‘Are these for me?’ Amy asked, plucking a white rose from a vase and placing it behind her ear. Reaching out to grab the banister of an elaborate, twisting staircase, I fought off a flashback. Nick, a single flower, the waterfall … ‘You shouldn’t have.’

‘I didn’t,’ Kekipi said with unmistakable disdain. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I know the value of a good floral arrangement but this is all Domenico’s doing.’

‘Domenico?’ I asked.

‘Miss Brookes.’

A tall, slender man descended the staircase in the requisite grey trousers, a matching jacket and added slim black tie. How he was wearing a suit and tie in this weather was beyond me – I was sweating so much I looked as though I had entered a wet T-shirt competition. But while he looked every inch the perfect butler, his stiff demeanour felt at odds with the make-yourself-at-home atmosphere of Al’s palazzo.

‘Domenico,’ Kekipi said with a flourish. ‘The estate manager here in Milan.’

‘He’s the Italian you?’ I asked, wiping my hand on the back of my jeans and achieving nothing more than making a sticky situation stickier.

‘Please,’ Kekipi sniffed. ‘I’ve never been so offended.’

‘Miss Brookes.’ The tall man greeted me with three air kisses, very carefully avoiding touching any part of my actual being. Not that I blamed him but it did make things feel ever so slightly awkward. ‘I am Domenico, Mr Bennett’s number two here at the Palazzo Della Stelline; we are so pleased that you have arrived.’

He turned to Amy and gave her a small bow, no kisses.

‘And you are Miss Brooke’s assistant?’

She looked at me, looked back at him and shrugged. ‘I suppose I am.’

Uh-oh. Clearly not impressed.

‘Excellent. I have rooms prepared for both of you in Mr Bennett’s most beautiful guest apartments. I would be very happy to show them to you if you would be so kind as to follow me.’ Domenico gestured up the stairs with an elaborate flourish of his arm and a far-too-wide smile. I’d seen waxworks show more authenticity.

‘I’ll take the ladies to their rooms,’ Kekipi said, knocking Domenico’s hand to his side and sweeping his hair from his forehead. ‘What time is dinner?’

‘Mr Bennett has suggested the ladies dine with him in the grand salon at seven,’ he replied, bowing his head graciously. ‘If you require anything at all before that time, please do let me know. Pressing 1 on the phone in your room will connect you directly to housekeeping and they will be happy to help you with whatever you might need.’

Kekipi stood on the first step of the staircase behind his Italian counterpart and clutched the wooden banister, eyes narrowed, knuckles white. He was seething.

‘And we will dine downstairs.’ Domenico turned to give Kekipi the full weight of his stare. Even though he was standing on the stairs, Kekipi was still the shorter of the two but height difference wasn’t going to be enough to win this battle. ‘Afterwards.’

‘OK, Mr
Downton
,’ he said, hand on hip. ‘Maybe Artie likes to keep things upstairs downstairs but I’ll be eating with Mr Bennett and the ladies in the dining room at seven. And I’m lactose intolerant, so keep that in mind while you’re preparing your feast. Ladies.’ He snapped his fingers and pointed up the stairs. ‘Follow me.’

‘Tess, he’s fabulous,’ Amy whispered. ‘He’s the most best gay man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met all the gay men, fabulous or otherwise.’

‘I think he might actually be the best man, gay or otherwise,’ I replied. ‘Just wait until you get him to do karaoke. He’s a God.’

‘Thank you so much, Domenico,’ I said, repeatedly dipping in mini bows as we scooted around him and up the stairs after Kekipi. ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine. But thank you. And for dinner. Thanks.’

‘Stop thanking him,’ Kekipi yelled without looking back. ‘It’s his job.’

‘Thank you,’ I mouthed.

‘
Prego
,’ Domenico said with a small smile. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘So what was that all about?’ Amy asked as she and Kekipi bounced up a second staircase and along the hallway on the third floor. ‘You two don’t get on, I take it?’

‘I’ve been with Al for a very long time,’ Kekipi explained, linking arms with Amy as they trotted on in front of me. I dawdled behind, running my fingertips along the heavy patterned silk that lined the walls.

‘When the Bennetts purchased this palazzo in the late seventies, it was Jane, Mrs Bennett’s, passion project. She renovated the entire place, designed the gardens, the colour schemes. She spent years pulling together the furniture …’ His voice grew soft with recollection as we turned a corner into an identical hallway. It was like being lost in a beautiful hall of mirrors.

‘But when Jane became sick, Al wanted to keep her in New York, near the best doctors, and eventually, they retreated to Hawaii almost altogether. Since he lost Jane, Al has barely left the island. He spends a little time in New York when he must and I always travel with him to ensure he is well looked after in a manner he finds comfortable but Mr Bennett Junior, for the last fifteen or so years, has spent the majority of the year here in Milan, tending to the business. He hired Domenico.’

‘So this is Al’s son’s house?’ Amy asked as Kekipi came to a halt at the end of the hallway in front of a pair of white double doors. ‘And Domenico is his guy?’

‘The house still belongs to Al,’ Kekipi clarified, pulling a key out of his pocket. ‘But without Jane, he hasn’t seemed interested in visiting for a very long time. Domenico does a very good job of looking after the house while we are away and he takes excellent care of Mr Bennett Junior but we have differing management styles. As I said, Al and I have worked together for a very long time, we have been through so much. Domenico thinks he’s top dog because he manages a palazzo. He thinks I’m some simple islander who is only good for organizing a luau and mixing drinks.’

‘You are very good at both of those things,’ I said. ‘But you know you’re more than that. Don’t rise to it.’

‘So wise for one so young,’ he sighed. ‘I knew I liked you.’

‘How come Al wanted to come back now?’ Amy asked. ‘What’s happening here that has convinced him to leave Hawaii? Because I’m totally happy to get on a plane to Hawaii and help out over there if he changes his mind.’

Kekipi gave us both a small smile and slipped the key into the elaborate gold lock on the door before him.

‘I imagine all will be revealed at dinner,’ he said, turning the key and pushing open the door. ‘Or at least, all that Al is ready to tell us. Are you ready to see your rooms, ladies?’

‘Oh. My. God!’

It was the second time in the same hour that the building had silenced Amy. I was really starting to like this place. Following her into the bedroom – and only jumping very slightly at Kekipi’s friendly slap on my arse – I understood what had got her so excited. Our ‘rooms’ were incredible. The ceilings were twice as high as mine at home and huge, airy windows opened out onto the street below, standing watch over the park across the way. Just like the house in Hawaii, most of the furniture was white and overstuffed but in every corner, I spotted a different antique – a beautiful wooden writing desk, an elegant mirror, a painting that clearly hadn’t come from Ikea; Jane Bennett’s signature style was everywhere I looked. But where were the beds?

‘Tess, I have you in this room,’ Kekipi said, opening a second set of double doors on his left. Oh. The beds were in the bedrooms. Of course. My room was dominated by a beautiful wooden four-poster bed, draped in the softest-looking white linens, and over by the window was another beautiful-looking antique desk, topped by a brand-new shiny Mac. ‘I had them install whatever photography software it didn’t have,’ Kekipi said, waving at the computer. ‘I wasn’t sure whether or not you would have everything you needed.’

I crouched down to peel off my Primark ballet flats and let my feet sink into the plush carpeting. It was like walking on a polar bear. Not that I had ever walked on a polar bear.

‘And Amy, you are across the salon.’ He gestured towards the other set of double doors on the opposite side of the room. Amy ran across and threw the doors open, squealing in incomprehensible delight. ‘As Domenico mentioned, you only need to press 1 to reach the housekeeper should you need anything at all, and I’m on 219 if there is anything only
I
can help you with.’

‘What’s the karaoke scene like around here?’ I asked, ignoring Amy’s screeches.

‘Abysmal,’ he sniffed. ‘But we’ll make our own fun. Besides, you’ve got tales to tell me before we start singing songs. Unless you’re going to begin with the Ballad of Mr Miller?’

‘Unlikely,’ I said with a wan smile. ‘But I could give you a catchy disco number called “my best friend told me he loved me but I didn’t say it back and now I’m dead confused”.’

‘Most of Beyoncé’s songs have one-word titles now but I’m sure we can work with it,’ he said. ‘That’s definitely a story that needs a cocktail. Meet me downstairs in a little while? An adult beverage after dinner, perhaps?’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ I agreed. ‘And you can tell me more stories about Domenico because I know you have them.’

‘Quite.’ Kekipi kissed both my cheeks with two very noisy, very non-Domenico smacks, handed me two suite keys, one for me, one for Amy, and closed the salon doors behind him.

‘Tess, get in here!’ Amy bellowed from her room. ‘Come and look at my bath! It’s massive! I can swim in it! Can we swim in it?’

‘I’m not coming in if you’re naked.’ I hesitated in the doorway, waiting for confirmation that she was still at least semi-dressed. ‘We’ve talked about this.’

‘I’m not in there yet, knobber.’

And she wasn’t. She was bouncing on her bed, trying to touch the canopy with her fingertips.

‘I feel like I’m in
Beauty and the Beast
,’ she breathed, dropping onto her arse and falling backwards to spread eagle across the enormous mattress. ‘Do you think they’ll adopt me?’

‘Maybe you could marry Artie,’ I suggested.

Amy shot upright, eyes wide open.

‘Is he single? Is he straight? Actually, that doesn’t matter – is he single?’

‘I will be in my room, working,’ I said, ignoring the question. Sometimes it was all you could do. ‘Try to stay out of trouble.’

‘You don’t need me to help?’ she asked, looking a little crestfallen. ‘Because I’m totally ready to assist the shit out of you.’

‘Go for a swim in your bath,’ I said, heading back into my own room. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’

Closing the door, I took in a very deep breath and let it out as slowly as I could. Across the room, a huge mirror showed me a picture of a girl who looked just like me, only not quite. I smiled and she smiled back but it wasn’t the confident, self-assured look I was hoping to project. I hoped that would come in time. I was calm. I had this.

Pulling my phone out of my handbag and setting up the charger by my bedside, I checked quickly to make sure Charlie hadn’t tried to call. Of course, he hadn’t. When I thought about the look on his face after I gave him a bloody thumbs up, I felt sick. He had every right to be furious with me. By the time I saw him again, he would understand and I would be over the shock of the whole thing. After all, I did love Charlie. I’d loved Charlie before he had loved me, I was so in love with him that I couldn’t remember what it felt like not to be in love with him. So why couldn’t I say it back?

Once my workstation and bedside table were all set up, I threw my suitcase onto the bed. Compared to Amy’s bags, it felt completely empty. It was only when I unzipped it, I realized it felt like it was completely empty because, aside from two packs of Marks & Spencer’s knickers, it
was
completely empty.

‘Amy!’ I was shouting. I knew I was shouting but I could not stop myself from shouting. I stared at the bare black lining of the suitcase. ‘Where the fuck are all my fucking clothes?’

‘Calm down, potty mouth,’ she trotted into my room, calmly dragging one of her enormous cases behind her. ‘Don’t be angry with me but I had a look at what you’d packed while you were in the shower this morning and honestly, I didn’t think you were doing yourself any favours, so I packed another case for you. Ta-da! And you’re welcome.’

I stood, I stared, I did not speak.

‘I know you were all about monochrome non-statements in the office,’ she went on, dropping into a cross-legged pile in front of her suitcase and reaching around, giving it a huge hug as she fiddled with the zip, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in her best Miley impression. ‘But we’re in Milan now, Tess. This is fashion, right? I talked to Paige when we were at the shoot the other day and she was telling me how Milan has all the amazing, out-there couture and that it’s like, the most fashion-forward city and then I looked in your case and it was just a bit sad.’