They were sitting at a table on the balcony, Bella back in her PJs, Sergio having dragged on a pair of jeans, not needing to play the exhibitionist any longer. She’d already seen what he had to offer. Had experienced it up close and personal. She’d liked it too. Liked it a lot, if he were any judge.
She swallowed, then smiled over at him. ‘Do you know that’s the first Italian word you’ve used since I arrived? You’ve totally lost your accent, do you know that? Not that it was ever strong. Even when you first came to live with us in Sydney, you didn’t talk like your father did.’
‘That’s because I was sent to an English boarding school when I was eight.’
‘I vaguely recall you telling me that. Did you like it there?’
‘Hated it. I was very happy when our parents married and my father sent for me to come live with him and go to school in Sydney.’ Happy till he’d realised that Dolores didn’t really love his father. Or him. Though she’d pretended to. Sergio had always been good at spotting a fake. If it hadn’t been for Bella’s vivacious company, he would have been miserable. His schooling in Sydney had been barely tolerable, with his never being a popular boy.
‘You sounded like a real Aussie for a while,’ she said, smiling at the memory. ‘Till your dad sent you off to university in Rome and you came back sounding all Italian.’
‘Did I? I didn’t notice.’
‘And now you sound totally English.’
Sergio shrugged. ‘Well, I have lived in England for the last eleven years.’
Bella put down the remains of her slice of pizza. ‘Doing what, Sergio?’
Before he could think better of it, Sergio started telling her all about his life since their parents’ divorce, beginning right back at his first year in Oxford where at last he’d found true male friendship with Alex and Jeremy. He told her all about them, even telling her about their formation of the Bachelors’ Club. Admittedly, at the last second, he did have the foresight to let Bella think that their vow to remain bachelors and become billionaires didn’t have any age deadline. He wasn’t about to give her any inkling that, shortly, he would be looking for a wife.
He then went on to explain how he and his two best friends first got into the wine-bar business, relating that one day, shortly after they’d formed the Bachelors’ Club, he and Alex had spotted a dilapidated old bar for sale not far from the Oxford campus. They’d told Jeremy about it that evening, insisting it could be turned into a good business with the right décor and the right wine to appeal to the mainly student clientele. They’d raved about its location, being situated near the university, and they’d known Jeremy had come into a substantial inheritance from his grandmother’s estate, and it wasn’t long before they made a deal with him that they would do all the physical work if he put up the money.
‘Alex and I did all the refurbishing ourselves,’ Sergio told Bella. ‘We sanded and varnished the wooden floors and painted all the walls and ceiling black.’ He laughed at this memory. ‘We’d got a great special from a local paint shop on black paint. Then we hung huge posters of grapes and vineyards on the walls and covered the bar stools in a dark purple vinyl. We got a special on that too. Oh, and we got rid of the mirrors behind the bar. We thought they were too in your face. After that, we hunted the charity shops and flea markets for lounge furniture and coffee tables at reasonable prices and in reasonable condition. We figured our patrons would like somewhere they could relax, or study on their laptops whilst drinking our very affordable wine. The lighting we kept low, mostly with lamps and a few ceiling lights over the bar area. Then we hired the prettiest girls as staff, but dressed them in simple black skirts and white blouses. Nothing too sexy.’ He grinned at Bella. ‘As I said, they were very pretty girls.’
At this point in his story Sergio realised that Bella was staring at him. No, frowning at him.
‘What?’ he said.
‘But I’ve been to a wine bar that looks just like that. And it wasn’t in Oxford. It was in New York, in a street just off Broadway. It’s not far from where I live. It’s called Wild Over Wine, but everyone calls it the—’
‘WOW bar,’ Sergio finished for her. ‘Yes. There’s a couple of them in New York now.’
Bella’s face could not have been more astonished. ‘You own them?’
‘No. The Wild Over Wine bars are now a highly successful franchise. After the success of our first bar, we bought another, then another. Always near a university at first, but in the end anywhere which had a good location. Eventually, things got too much for us to handle, despite Jeremy having finally come on board as our chief financial officer. Anyway, I got this bright idea to start up a franchise. And it took off. Soon there were WOW bars all over Great Britain and even some in Australia and New Zealand, thanks to Alex. I did tell you Alex was Australian, didn’t I?’
Bella nodded.
‘Brilliant salesman. Brilliant all round, actually. Anyway, recently the franchise started creeping into America, with considerable success, I might add.’
‘I can imagine. I loved the one I went into. It had a highly individual ambience with its black walls and comfy furniture. But I wouldn’t have said the wine was all that cheap.’
‘Yes, well, we did change our ideas on that in the end. You can still buy cheap wine at WOW bars if that’s all you can afford, but we were forced to also cater for well-heeled clients whose palates required something better. Oh, and we changed the background music to classical. No royalty paying on most classical music,’ he added laughingly.
‘Heavens!’ Bella exclaimed. ‘I would never have guessed you would become a successful businessman. I always imagined you as some kind of academic.’
Sergio tried not to be offended. He had been a bit of a nerd as a teenager, always with his head in a book.
‘Well, I was never unsure of your career path,’ he pointed out. ‘From the time you were just a kid you were destined for fame and fortune in the music world. All your many and various successes have never surprised me.’
She actually looked a little embarrassed by his compliments.
‘That’s sweet of you to say so, Sergio, but, to be honest, fame and fortune isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When I’m doing a musical on stage, I work terribly long hours. It can be exhausting, and, quite frankly, rather lonely. I don’t always have time for a social life, or proper relationships.’ She sighed a sigh that carried a wealth of irony, her blue eyes darkening as she picked up her champagne and took a deep swallow. ‘I know you probably think I’ve had heaps of affairs. But that’s far from the truth. In the last decade I’ve only had three serious relationships, all with men best forgotten.’
Sergio didn’t know what to say, her revelation bringing a mixture of surprise and scepticism. Which were the three? The French actor had to be one. And definitely that Russian fellow. Which left a toss-up between the Brazilian polo player and the American rock star. If she was to be believed, that was. Yet why would she lie to him? What motive could she possibly have?
‘I did read about your dating Chuck Richards at one stage,’ he said at last, trying to sound offhand and not accusatory.
‘Good God, no. I never dated that creep. Unfortunately, my publicist at the time thought it was good for my career for my name to be connected in the media with high-profile celebrities. At the time Chuck was all the rage. I was talked into accompanying him to the Aria awards that year, oblivious of the fact that he was a cocaine addict. I had to fight him off in the limo all the way back to my hotel. The guy was an octopus. I told him what I thought of him when I could finally get out, but of course it was reported in the papers as a lovers’ spat. Something Chuck didn’t deny. He made it sound like we’d been