Page 55 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)
Isabella
Isabella’s heart was flapping like a trapped butterfly in her chest. But it had nothing to do with the cameraman pointing his lens at her, or Michelle preparing to ask the first question.
It was all due to the fact that Etienne was holding her hand.
Every now and then his thumb smoothed over her skin or he tightened his grip, but he hadn’t let go.
She’d seen something in his face, she knew it.
That had been a true-life, real romance moment that they had shared.
More than just a pep talk, or him trying to give her confidence.
And he was still holding her hand. Surely, if they were just friends, he would have dropped it as soon as she agreed to do the interview?
And they were going for a drink. Okay, maybe just a friendly drink.
A drink to celebrate the day. A drink to relax after the interview.
They’d been for drinks before, in a group, and obviously for karaoke, but this time she had asked him simply because she didn’t want him to leave.
She wanted to spend the evening with him and he had said yes. And he was still holding her hand.
Michelle Carter moved into position and counted them in. Etienne moved fractionally closer, and she could feel the touch of his elbow on her arm.
‘This is Isabella Tucci,’ said Michelle in her ‘on air’ voice, ‘the person behind the campaign for Spare Room Sleepover, created to come to the rescue of the elderly residents of Heart of Honeybridge, which suffered a serious fire earlier this morning. How did you come up with the idea, Isabella?’
She thrust the fluffy microphone towards Isabella. Etienne squeezed her hand encouragingly and she felt the smile stretching her cheeks as she answered. This time, she didn’t freeze and she wasn’t shy. She was happier in that moment than she could remember being for months– maybe ever.
‘It just came to me,’ she said. ‘I’m lucky enough to live with my own grandmother and thought that a lot of other people would love to do the same– have an honorary grandparent come to stay, even if it’s just for a few days.’
‘The council tells us that fifty-nine residents have already been matched for home stays,’ Michelle said. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘It’s fantastic news,’ said Isabella. ‘Because every resident we match will have a home environment to recover in, and they can be part of a family, which is so important.’
‘And this is Etienne Martin,’ Michelle said, turning towards him. ‘The first person to take in one of the residents. How did that happen, Mr Martin?’
‘It was an easy decision,’ said Etienne. ‘I would class Fred Barrow as a friend of mine, so it seemed natural to ask him to come home with me until all this is sorted.’
Isabella watched him speak and bet that every woman watching this section on the news would be salivating on their sofas. And, out of shot of camera, he was still holding her hand.
‘Is this normal for Honeybridge?’ Michelle asked, indicating the queue of people waiting to sign up to the scheme. ‘This level of community spirit?’
All the sides of the community that Isabella had experienced in the last three months rushed through her head. From karaoke at The Bolthole to Story Stars with Rosie and Wren, the Italian lessons to the fundraiser and the market on the square.
‘Definitely,’ she said, glancing at Etienne, who nodded in agreement. ‘We wouldn’t live anywhere else, would we?’
‘Have you lived here long then?’ Michelle asked and Isabella recognised an opportunity when it was presented to her. After all, she did have a marketing degree.
‘Not that long, just long enough to set up a new restaurant. It’s called Tutto Mio. It’s all family recipes– Italian meatballs– and we open this weekend.’ She turned away from Michelle and looked straight down the lens of the camera. ‘Everyone’s welcome!’
‘And cut,’ said Michelle, taking her headphones off and checking with the cameraman to make sure he was happy. He finished reviewing the footage and then gave her a thumbs up.
‘That was perfect, thanks,’ Michelle said, carefully winding her microphone wire up. ‘It will probably go out tonight unless something else happens nationally to push it out. But if not tonight, then tomorrow night.’
‘Sorry about the promotion at the end.’ Isabella laughed, not sorry at all. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’
‘No worries,’ said Michelle. ‘Those kinds of things normally get edited out, but I’ll see what I can do.’ She winked.
‘Isabella, can I get some shots of you walking by the queue? And then a few in the tent?’ the cameraman asked.
She let her fingers squeeze Etienne’s one more time, saying, ‘See you after for that drink.’
He nodded and squeezed back. ‘Told you you’d be brilliant. You’re amazing.’
The burst of emotion almost brought tears to her eyes.
She reluctantly let go of his hand and followed the cameraman, fighting the urge with every step to skip and laugh out loud like a five-year-old.
Giving in to looking over her shoulder as they got to the queue, she saw Etienne lifting the phone to his ear and turning away to talk.