One Winter Weekend

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

C aroline paced around her room. What had she just done?

This was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid – what she’d tried to avoid. Now, not only was it obvious Fabrizio was interested, but it turned out he was handsome and wealthy.

Good God , she thought to herself, could I possibly be any more of a cliche?

She was still pacing when Molly walked in, a smile plastered to her face.

“Caroline,” she cooed, “I have to thank you. You’ve really gone above and beyond. Again.” She went over to her friend, oblivious to her distress, and hugged her. She broke the embrace, however, when she noticed her face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Caroline shook her head. “I can’t even begin…” she said exasperatedly. “I’m just… I’m an idiot, that’s what.”

“You’re not,” cried Molly. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Caroline said, a note of sarcasm in her voice, “you have no idea, Mol. I’ve just been making, you know, fantastic decisions since I got here. Flirt with the suave Italian host? Check. Have a combative but strangely endearing relationship with him? Check. Find out he’s loaded? Check. Snog him in the lobby of his hotel? Check. Make a total gobshite of myse—”

“Hang on,” Molly cut in, putting her hands up in a stop motion. “What’s all this about snogging? And are you talking about Fabrizio?”

“It’s not like I even wanted to,” Caroline said manically as if Molly hadn’t interjected. “I mean, yeah, I’d thought about it a bit, but he was so – I mean, he was just there , but then he’d been so sweet as to help me find you, and that smile – oh, that smile – but no. I can’t be the stupid tourist on holiday who falls for the first Italian who gives her the glad eye. I mean, he’s Roman. He’ll flirt with anything that moves, probably charm the pants off them, too…”

“Caroline,” Molly said, putting her hands on her friend’s shoulders, “Get a grip. Are you trying to tell me something happened between you and my wedding planner?”

Caroline finally snapped out of her fit and looked at her best friend. “Your wedding planner …oh my God, Molly,” she said with a half-smile, “you’re getting married tomorrow...you are still getting married tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Molly nodded. “Ben and I had a chat,” she said. “Though really, a lot has been my fault too. But now, back to this… what happened with Fabrizio?”

Caroline pursed her lips and let out a long puff of air.

“Well, when you left to talk to Ben,” she explained, “I thanked him, and I might have kissed him on the cheek. But only friendly-like,” she added quickly. “And then… he twirled me into his arms, ran his hands through my hair… and … kissed me.”

Molly positively beamed. “Oh my God , Caroline,” she cried. “That’s so romantic.”

“It’s not!” Caroline retorted. “It’s cheesy and obvious and – and – stupid ! It’s exactly the cliche I wanted to avoid coming here.”

Molly shook her head. “Oh come on ,” she told her friend. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s very good-looking. And for the love of God, he owns the hotel. At the very least, you’d be able to come back to Rome any time you wanted and stay for free…”

“You see?” Caroline said, a wry smile coming to her lips. “This is why I never tell you anything. You always have to go from a simple kiss to a lifelong romance.”

“It worked for Ben and me.”

“Did not.”

“Fair point. But seriously , if you were ever going to take a chance on love, now’s the time to do it. I mean really, what is the worst that could happen?”

That question made Caroline pause. What was the worst that could happen? Certainly, things could be much worse than a holiday romance with a handsome, rich Italian who owned a hotel and drove a fancy car, and at Christmastime no less.

Still …

“Honestly?” she finally replied. “I think I’d lose some respect for myself.”

“Whatever for?” Molly asked, incredulous.

Caroline sighed deeply. “I’m… I’m not like you, Mol,” she explained. “I don’t go all passionate about things and fall head-over-heels. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s just not my style. And I never, ever wanted to be a cliche. I absolutely hate that holiday romance nonsense.”

“Okay,” Molly assented, “but I want you to think about this: why do you think they become cliches in the first place?”

“What?”

“All those films and books with broad-chested, impossibly handsome men on the covers… They might be sensationalised fantasy, but in the end, do you think those cliches just sort of happened, like they were just created out of thin air? No way. They were inspired by things that really happened, or that we always wanted to happen.

A woman gets swept off her feet by a gorgeous, rich suitor in a romantic Italian city… what in the world is wrong with you that you wouldn’t just jump on that ride and see where it takes you?”

Caroline was dumbstruck. She hadn’t really thought of it that way. It wasn’t just a matter of not wanting to be a cliche, she realised – it was her own pride that she’d been riding for last few days.

Fabrizio was a fantasy of sorts: impossibly handsome, incredibly wealthy, and rather sweet. And yet, here she was, pushing him away, just so, what, she could prove a point to herself? She had to admit, that seemed really…

“Stupid,” Caroline said finally.

“What’s that?” Molly asked.

“ Me ,” she continued. “ I’m stupid. Molly, I’ve been an absolute idiot. This lovely man has been throwing himself at me, and I’ve pushed him away. What is wrong with me?”

Molly laughed at that. “There’s nothing wrong with you, honey,” she reassured her. “You’re just as human as the rest of us. And sometimes, that means we do stupid things. But it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. You just need the opportunity.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

“Well,” Molly said, beaming, “I hear there’s this big celebration tomorrow…”