Dean had snuck into the townhouse around 1:00 am, exactly one hour and eleven minutes ago. How did he know this? Because he'd been staring at the clock on his bedside table for one hour and eleven minutes. No way could he go to sleep, his thoughts buzzing and swirling around the magnificent day he'd just spent with Hazel. After the picnic and the long, lazy and enjoyable afternoon on the grass, they'd wandered into Borgotaro. What he wanted more than anything else was for Hazel to be comfortable, relaxed and happy, and if Gio was right, getting more of her heart connected to this tiny town would help him succeed in that goal. Dean had taken her to Gio’s and then to his favorite bar across the street, The Odissea. They had drunk too much prosecco, giggling and staring into each other's eyes like love-struck teenagers. She'd done him in - he was smitten.

He'd walked her home along his usual route, and taken her hand as they’d climbed onto the wide patio in front of the old hotel, The Roma.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” she’d breathed, resting her head onto Dean’s shoulder where it fit comfortably, like the missing piece of a puzzle. “I climbed these steps last time I came downtown and then got lost in all kinds of ridiculous daydreams.”

“You too?” Dean had laughed. “I thought it was just me who swooned over neglected houses.”

“Have you seen the house I’m living in? Talk about neglected.”

“Yeah, about that,” he’d said, turning her to face him and holding both her hands in his own. “I want to help, okay? I know that you don’t believe I’m much of a carpenter. Why would you? But I’d like to help you with the house. You don’t even need to pay me. I need something to keep my head out of LA and my hands busy, and as much as I would like to continue with the thing that kept my hands busy today on a full time basis, we wouldn't get much done on the house that way. What do you think?”

She'd smiled at him then. After their picnic she'd pulled a gauzy summer dress from her bag and disappeared into the trees to change into it. He tried not to peek. Now that dress floated around her tanned body. Her hair was down and was curly and unkempt, framing her pretty face perfectly. Her lips pursed, and he fought the urge to kiss them. Her answer was important to him, so he needed to give her the space to consider the question.

“Okay,” she’d said, laughing. “It's not like I’ve had any other offers, at least none as irresistible as this one. One condition though, would you consider training Stefano as you go? I had a chat with him this morning and he told me he thinks his dad is the owner of the house, that's my mom's old boyfriend. Then I checked with Indigo before I left today and she said that guy didn't have any kids. She thinks maybe his mom made it up. I know we don't know much about him, but he's a really good kid who's fallen on hard times. We’d like to help him and it would be great if he had another, more practical trade.”

“I can! It would be a huge help for me to have another pair of hands. When can we start?”

“Hmmm… let me see? Tomorrow? I could handle seeing you again tomorrow,” she murmured, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Tomorrow it is,” he'd said.

Now he was lying in bed, wide awake and full of guilt. He wouldn't break Isabella's heart when he told her it was over. He may ruin her pampered lifestyle, sure, but not her heart. However, he should have told her sooner. It was disrespectful to both women to not have taken care of the Isabella situation before today. But the truth was, he hadn’t expected what happened today. He'd planned a quiet picnic where they could get to know each other a little better. He'd wanted to spend time together to confirm that this crazy, intense connection they had was something real. Well it was real all right! So real neither had been able to resist it.

Except for the few minutes discussing his problem to Hazel, he hadn’t thought about Hollywood all day. LA, Adam, Isabella, the director, Rolling Thunder... it all seemed so far away from the right here, right now, and it all seemed so unimportant. Tonight, when he and Hazel were standing, admiring The Roma, he’d entertained a crazy idea. Wouldn’t it be great if they could open that hotel together and live in Borgotaro? They would head into town in the evenings for an apperitivo. They would host big dinners with Stella, Sara, Indigo and Atillio. Heck, he’d even invite Gio. They would cook together in the huge hotel kitchen, drink their morning coffee on the patio and watch the townsfolk finish their morning shopping. Best of all, they would work together to make that building the most beautiful hotel in Italy. People would come from around the world to stay there. Their life together would be rich and full, and far away from any cameras.

He was losing his mind. He’d met this woman two weeks ago and now he was throwing his entire life away? He needed a reality check and fast. The digital numbers on the bedside clock glared at him through the darkness: 1:17 a.m. Six minutes had passed. This was going to be a long night. What time was it in LA? 6:17 p.m. Adam would be drinking his first evening martini right now.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Adam answered with his usual forceful joviality.

“Buddy!! Long time no speak!”

“I spoke to you yesterday, Adam, remember?”

“Yeah sure, sure,” Dean heard him making excuses to people, there was loud music and chattering in the background; he was already out schmoozing for the evening. There had been so many nights Adam had tried to get Dean to join him on his industry big-wig rounds, but Dean had begged off. Unchecked power wasn’t his scene. The noise dissipated and Adam was back on the line. “Great to hear from you, buddy. How’s it going over there?”

“Getting complicated. How’s it going over there?”

Adam ignored his question. “Complicated, huh? Sounds like a lady. That Hazel chick?”

“Yeah, it's Hazel,” Dean sighed. Adam always had his number. “How did you know?”

“You mentioned her before. I heard it in your voice. Does Isabella know?”

“No. But I’ll tell her. To be honest, Adam I don’t think she’ll care. She’s been so distant lately and can’t be bothered to talk to me. She likes my house though. She might be upset about that.”

“Well, you know how I feel about Isabella. But should you end it right now? I mean, maybe wait until you get back before you make any rash decisions. Maybe this Hazel chick is only a summer fling?”

Now it was Dean's turn to ignore the question. “She’s not a chick. And I don’t know. But I’ve kind of fallen into this without thinking too much and it’s not fair to her or Isabella. I've decided to help her with the house she’s renovating. Stella thought it might be good for me to do some physical labor.”

“Dude! Great idea! You’ll enjoy that, it’ll remind you of the old man you always talk about. Sounds like a project. Take your time. But I wouldn’t cut Isabella loose just yet, Dean.”

“Take my time? You said before that it was urgent I got back for filming? And what’s all this about you and Christopher Brook being all buddy, buddy? And why are you gunning for Isabella? You hate her.” The unease and doubt about Adam that had been bubbling under Dean’s ribs burst into his chest like a hot spring. Something was going on. “And while I’m asking questions, how come you didn’t tell me things were so bad with Sara? I thought we were brothers, Adam.”

There was a shuffling sound as Adam moved the phone from his mouth, “I’m coming,” he whispered, but Dean heard it loud and clear. “Got to go brother. Duty calls. You enjoy your time with Hazel and I’ll be rooting for you over here. Not a word to Isabella if I see her, promise.” He was gone.

Dean shoved his phone onto his bedside table and there was a thud as it dropped to the floor… Oh well. He felt so far from LA. So far from that hurried and frantic life; the wheeling and dealing and wining and dining. Why had he never noticed before how distracted Adam was? He’d been off the phone as fast as he could, maybe he was in a meeting, but prior to now Adam dropped everything when Dean was around. Dean had always been his number one priority. Was it a case of out of sight, out of mind? Or was it something more sinister?