‘Nope, stop that immediately,’ I tell myself firmly.
We’ll go on this ‘double date’, as she called it, then we’re sitting down and talking things through like the grown-arse grown-ups we are.
* * *
‘Oh, you two are so cute together.’
Cherie beams at us while we wait in the tiled foyer of Liquorificio del Sole, a single-storey whitewashed building, with a handful of other tourists.
When I agreed to this outing, it didn’t occur to me that we’d have to maintain the ruse of being a couple. Delaney hooks her arm through mine, leaning in close and smiling up at me adoringly.
I remind my body –andmy heart – that this is just an act. Only it isn’t, because there’s genuine attraction between us – and maybe something deeper – leaving me even more confused than ever.
Pretendto be a couple when you’re wondering if you could actually make it as a couple? What could possibly go wrong? I’d have been better off heading to the marina, renting one of those rusted-out rowboats, and paddling myself to the mainland. Far less risky.
At the designated time for the tour, a short, rotund man comes out of a door and around to our side of a long wooden counter.
‘Buongiorno!’ he says, giving us a welcoming grin. ‘Welcome to Liquorificio del Sole. I am Gennaro and my family has been making limoncello in this building for one hundred and two years.’
He pauses for effect as a soft chorus ofoohechoes around the room.
‘But before we came here, Nonna andNonno – they made liqueur at home with lemons from the family grove on the mainland near Sorrento. They made it for themselves and their friends… Everybody loved it and one day, Nonno hears about aliquorificioopening here on Capri and he thinks, “Wemake the best lemon liqueur in the world – we should open aliquorificiotoo!” And the rest is history. Today, it is my brother and me who make the limoncello – but I am the good-looking one, so I do the tours,’ he adds with a cheeky wink, and titters of laughter ripple through the group. ‘And we still use the lemons from the family grove – and I know I am biased, but they are the best lemons, we have the best recipe, so we make the best limoncello. Come now, I show you how we make it, andthenwe test it out. Make sure it’s good,no?’
He chuckles loudly at his own joke as he ushers us into the next room for the demonstration, and I lean down and whisper in Delaney’s ear, ‘How about that camera-ready performance? Hesogets a cameo inWhere the Road Ends.’
‘Right? He’sperfect,’ she replies, her face lit up. Delaney in producer mode is this intoxicating mix of infectious enthusiasm and cute-as-fuck sexiness. That last part is what will get me into trouble if I don’t rein it in.
The group assembles in a loose knot next to a still and, being the tallest, I hang back so the others can see. Delaney, who’s at least a foot shorter, edges her way to the front next to Cherie.
As Gennaro takes us through the ins and outs of limoncello making, my eyes keep landing on Delaney – it’s almost becoming a tic – and my mind begins to wander.
DELANEY COLE (32): down-to-earth, appreciates the little things, genuinely interested in others, creative thinker with a strong work ethic, avoids difficult conversations, witty as hell, sexy but doesn’t seem to realise it.
If I were casting the role of Delaney, I know exactly who I’d ask to read: Britt Robertson, Zoey Deutch, Kaitlyn Dever, maybe Hayley Lu Richardson. All talented – all with that girl-next-door appeal.
Only I’m not casting a role. Delaney’s real and she’s right here and if I don’t handle this situation perfectly, I’ll lose any chance of seeing if our budding friendship could become more.
Because Idowant more – even if we don’t end up making my film together.
I missed something Gennaro said, but it must have been funny because Delaney looks over her shoulder, shooting me a smile that ignites my insides.
When I return it, she scrunches her nose, and I draw in a sharp breath. Her eyes stay on mine for a moment longer and it’s only after she turns around that I puff my cheeks and slowly exhale.
I am seriously,seriouslysmitten. Maybe Dan’s right – maybe I should bite the bullet and end things with Pippa as soon as possible. I suppose Icoulddo it via video call – less cowardly than a phone call…
But no. It’s Pip and she deserves a face-to-face finale to our relationship.
The demonstration ends and I’ve barely heard a word. For all I know, Gennaro claimed that limoncello was a gift to humans from an alien lifeform. Or that Bacchus himself appeared before Nonna and Nonno to share the recipe.
As the group moves into the next room for tastings, Delaney hangs back, waiting for me.
‘Cool, huh?’ she asks.
‘Uh, yes, absolutely.’
She eyes me dubiously. ‘And what about how they soak the lemons in seawater before they add them to the still?’
‘Mmm, fascinating.’