AN: Hello, strangers!! I finished the sequel to The PA, and only two days past my deadline! The PA is called More Than Cake on Amazon, and the sequel I've just finished is called Another Slice of Cake; clever, don't you think? It's in the hands of my proofreader (otherwise known as my daughter), and should be ready for publication on Amazon at the end of the month.
So, after a very intense six weeks of Heath, MJ, their daughters, and Uncle Archie, I needed to get my head in a different place, and I decided to write this bonus chapter which I've been mulling over for a while. I'll warn you, you'll probably be left wanting more, but those are the best kind of chapters, right?
This chapter takes place in Italy, beginning the day before Mara and Luke's wedding, when Chiara and Drew go off to talk and make up and all that good stuff; I hope you all noticed that Ned wasn't around for most of that chapter and the following one? Well, this is what he was doing😉

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Ned was downstairs at the buffet ridiculously early, waiting for Drew and his family to come down. He looked around the beautiful grounds, admiring the trees, flowers, and the gorgeous old building that had clinging vines growing all over the crumbling bricks and marble. This villa just oozed atmosphere and history, and Ned couldn't imagine a more beautiful place to get married. A paved trail meandered off through the trees, and Ned could see the lake gleaming, off in the distance.

Ned saw a cluster of girls that he called "Partials," in that they were obviously related to Luke, or more likely Mara, somehow, and closely enough to be invited to this very exclusive wedding, but not closely enough not to fangirl over meeting a member of Manderley Dreams in the flesh. He saw the Adessos and the Davies already seated at some shady tables enjoying plates full of beautiful food and bottles of wine, and debated going to join them, knowing it would stop the Partials from descending on him and asking for selfies or hitting on him or whatever it was they were contemplating, but he felt restless, and didn't feel like sitting down. He'd worn shorts and sneakers on purpose, along with a simple polo shirt, hoping for a kick around or something before the afternoon was over.

He quickly ducked around the corner of the house while the Partials weren't looking, and found himself in what looked like the staging area for the lunch buffet. There was a side entrance to the kitchen of the main house, along with extra gas stoves and cooktops set up outside. Catering trucks were backed up in neat rows with their doors open, and people were inside, dressed in white, hair tied up, slicing, dicing, arranging, or cooking. Ned felt like he'd stepped into one of the kitchen songs from Beauty and the Beast, only without the singing.

A loud voice caught his attention, and he turned to look. Ned wasn't too concerned, because he knew from experience that Italians loved loud convos, about anything from politics to music to food to hair; however, this time, he continued to watch, growing concerned. A young man in his mid-twenties or so with a beautiful black head of hair and mustache to match was yelling at a girl, leaning way over into her personal space. Again, Ned knew that Italians defined personal space differently than the English. However, this seemed excessive, even for the passionate Italians. The girl, who seemed to be about the same age as the man, was leaning back, holding a broom, wavy blonde pony tail shaking as she listened to the man heap abuse on her.

He seemed to be upset over how she was sweeping, or where she was sweeping, Ned wasn't sure which. When the mustached man stopped for breath, the blonde woman spoke up for herself, gesturing wildly with the hand that wasn't holding the broom, pointing to the ground and telling him something about the way she was sweeping.

Now the people around them who were cooking and prepping and carrying the food were stopping their work to watch the fight, some with smiles, some with looks of concern.

Mustache stared at the blonde girl as the words fell from her mouth as if he couldn't believe she had the nerve to talk back to him. He yanked the broom from her hand and said something to her that had an air of finality, and Ned didn't have to understand the language to know that the girl had just been sacked.

The girl let fly with one final blast of Italian that definitely had some choice words for mustache in it. She untied her apron, threw it down at his feet, turned on her heel and stomped away, coming straight toward Ned. He tried to get out of her way and watched her go by, seeing as she passed him that she was not very tall, and had sea-green eyes that were already swimming with tears.

"Mi scusi," she said as she nearly ran him down, heading off on one of the paths that led into the trees.

Ned watched her disappear, then took off after her, hoping he'd picked the right path.

He ran a few yards down one path, but didn't see her, so he backtracked and took off down another path, where he nearly ran her down a few hundred yards toward the lake when he found her crying as she leaned against a tree.

"Whoa!" Ned stopped and ran back to where she was, making a face of sympathy. "Oh man, you look so upset," he said, knowing that, even if she didn't understand his words, she'd hear the tone. "Are you okay?"

"Am okay," the girl responded, nodding and wiping her eyes. Her nose and cheeks were red and wet, and Ned, who of course had no tissue or handkerchief, pulled the bottom of his shirt and wiped her tears as best he could.

The girl thought this was funny, and couldn't help but laugh through her tears as she tried to push his hand away. Ned insisted, however, so she finally just said, "Thank you," and accepted his ministrations.

"What happened back there?" Ned tried. "Why was he so angry?"

The girl just looked blank.

"Erm, perché--" Ned knew that was the word for "why," but he had no idea how to say "angry," so he just drew his brows together and acted like he was yelling.

"Oh, ahh," the girl responded, understanding, laughing at his pantomime. "Uh, he? Man? Like me. Like to make, uh, date with me? But I no like make date him, so he--" and she, too, made the same face, pointing at Ned and pursing her brows.

"So he fired you," Ned supplied.

"Fired me," the girl repeated. Then she continued.

"About everything. I no make clean right, I no food right, I no nothing right--" at this point the girl simply switched to Italian, frustrated by her inability to make herself understood, and let loose an absolute torrent of her native tongue, letting it wash over Ned like a waterfall.

Ned simply nodded, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing gently, letting her let it out, knowing that giving her a sympathetic ear was probably more important than actually understanding the words.

She finally ran down and smiled  at Ned, melting his heart with its beauty. "I don't speak very English," she said ruefully. "It's very problem."

Ned shook his head gallantly. "No, not at all! I don't speak Italian, and that is a problem also." He thought for a moment. "No parlo Italiano, mi dispiace molto," he tried. He was pretty sure he said "I don't speak Italian, I'm very sorry," and he could tell by the way she lit up that he'd gotten it close, anyway.

"Bene, molto bene!" she cried, smiling again, her tears long gone. "Very very good!"

"Thank you," Ned responded, smiling. "What's your name, anyway?" he tried.

"Béatrice," she said.

"Come again?" Ned said, unable to separate the syllables into anything comprehensible.

"BAY-AH-TREE-CHEH," she said slowly and clearly, rolling the "r" and turning the somewhat stodgy English name of Beatrice into something romantic and beautiful. "Just say 'BAY-AH,'" she said. "Is short name of Beatrice," she explained.

"Bay-ah," Ned tried.

He was rewarded with another smile, a smile that was already doing strange things to his insides, coupled with those beautiful sea-green eyes.

"You?" she asked, pointing to his chest.

"Ned," he told her with a grin. "It's easy, no?"

"Ned," she repeated with a nod. "Is short name of something?"

"Edmund," he explained.

"Edmund," she repeated. "I like," she added. "I like Ned also."

"Good," Ned exclaimed. "You want to walk with me, Béa?"

"I would want, but I can't," Béa said with a sad face. "I must to, how you say?" She pointed back toward the house. "I must to make apology to Gianni, the boy with buffi?" She drew a mustache on her face.

"Why?" Ned was furious. "You didn't do anything wrong! He should make apology to you!"

Béa was shaking her head. "I need this work, I need this money, you understand? If Gianni says no, then I must walking to town to find new work today. My family is poor, we need money."

"No." Ned was shaking his head. "He sexually harassed you, he needs to lose his job, do you understand what I'm saying?"

Béa nodded. "I understand. But this doesn't happen in Italy so much."

"Well, today, it happens, okay?" Ned grasped her hand and pulled her along. They went straight out to where the buffet was, where Mara was sitting with her family, laughing and chatting.

"Mara, can I have a word, please?" Ned asked, still holding Béa's hand.

"No, Ned, you mustn't, you will fire also," Béa said, horrified, pulling on Ned's hand, apparently under the impression that he, too, was a lowly employee.

Ned quickly explained what had happened to Béa and why, with Mara getting angrier and angrier.

"Are you fucking kidding me? The fucking caterer? Where? Where is he? Show me," Mara demanded.

So Ned, still holding the protesting Béa's hand, led Mara around the corner to where the staging was going on.

The horrible Gianni was walking around supervising, and came over to see what Mara wanted, though he could already tell it wasn't good. And he, apparently, did speak a little English.

"Hello, Signorina Davies, everything is okay?" he asked with a smile.

"Actually no," Mara began, stepping into his personal space. "I've just heard the most awful story, about how this poor girl rejected your advances, so you browbeat her in front of everyone, and then sacked her a little while ago? Is this true?"

"Browbeat? Sacked? I'm afraid I don't understand," Gianni began smoothly. "She is one who complains about everything, she's a lazy one, I only hired her for a friend." He spread his hands as if asking for understanding.

"Alfredo!" Gianni called. "Please tell Signorina Davies what happened earlier with Béa."

Alfredo came over to contribute what he could.

"He's my assistant, he'll be honest," Gianni added.

"I hope so," Mara said. "Because if I find out he lied, he'll be out on his ass, is that clear?"

By now Luke had come to see what was going on.

"Ned? What in the hell is going on?" he asked his friend.

"That knob tried to put the moves on this poor girl, and she said no, so he's been horrible to her all morning, and he finished by yelling at her in front of everyone and sacking her," Ned said,  unable to contain his anger. "I saw the whole fucking thing."

"Well, Alfredo?" Mara asked. "Who's telling the truth?"

Alfredo looked at the ground, swallowed hard, and finally gestured to Béa and Ned.

"I thought so," Mara said with a nod. "Okay, you, you're sacked, as of now," she said to the odious Gianni. "Alfredo, you're promoted to this arsehole's job. Can you do the work?"

Alfredo looked at Mara with a small smile and nodded.

"You, give him your apron and get the hell off the premises immediately," Mara told Gianni, who looked like he was about to give her an earful.

"Don't say a word, unless you want to be wearing the apron like a fucking hat," Luke suggested, and apparently Gianni understood him well enough that he simply removed the apron, handed it to Alfredo, and walked away, to a surprising outburst of applause from the workers.

"There we go, problem solved," Mara said, kissing Ned on the cheek. "And Ned? Tell your girl she doesn't have to work until it's time for clean up, okay?"

"That sounds wonderful," Ned said with a huge smile. "But why?"

"Now you have a date for the wedding," Mara explained as she walked around the corner with Luke.

And Béa, who had understood the exchange, was staring at Ned in undisguised wonder.

"Who are you, Ned?" she asked. "How you know Signorina Davies and Signore Adesso?"

"I'm in the band with Signore Adesso," Ned explained.

Béa still looked confused, so Ned grabbed one of the Partials who was hanging around like she wanted to ask for Ned's autograph, wearing a Manderley Dreams shirt. He pointed to the picture on her back of the four boys, and then to his face. "Io," he said, which he knew meant "I."

Béa was shocked. "Oddio," she gasped. She let loose more Italian that Ned was starting to find unutterably sexy.

"So," he interjected when she stopped for breath, "how about that walk?"

"Okay, let's walk," Béa said with a shaky smile. "I must thank you everything also, so thank you." She went up on tip toe and kissed Ned's cheek. "You are like a magical prince. It was like un miracolo, you know this word?"

"A miracle, I believe," Ned said with a laugh. "Thanks for that, I suppose. And you heard Mara, right? Will you come to the wedding with me? Tomorrow?"

Béa lit up as if from inside. "I will love to come to the wedding with you tomorrow, Ned!"

They were walking south along the lake, which was beautiful, though nowhere near as beautiful to Ned as the girl walking next to him.

Just as he was wishing she would untie her hair, she reached up and untied her hair, letting it hang down her back in  all its wavy blonde glory.

"Wow, you're beautiful," Ned said, unable to help himself. "Your hair is just lovely."

"Thank you," Béa said, obviously pleased. "I have to put tie up for work, but I like to put loose when I'm not work, you know?"

"Yeah, I can see why," Ned responded.

"So, Béa, what do you do when you're not working?" Ned asked, reaching for her hand, which she allowed, smiling at the contact.

"I'm student at university in Milano," she explained. "But I work when I'm possible, to help my family. That's all I do, working and study, like most people, I think." She smiled up at Ned. "I'm so happy to meeting you today, Ned."

She stopped walking. "I'm like to kiss you, Ned, if you like to kiss me. Yes?"

Ned, too, stopped and faced her.

All traces of her earlier tears were gone, leaving her sea-green eyes clear and lovely, framed by lashes a few shades darker than the blonde hair on her head. The breeze off the lake blew a few tendrils of hair across her face, and Ned smoothed them away, which made her smile, her pink lips moving up at the ends in the most enticing way.

He nodded, and moved closer, leaning down as she stretched up, putting her hands on his shoulders.

Her lips were soft, and he could feel how they tilted up in that little smile in her kiss, something which he found enchanting. And even though he could tell she'd kissed many blokes before, she still left it to him to swipe across her lips with his tongue, seeking her tongue with his, before opening up to touch together gently, as if she were tasting something wonderful.

She squeezed his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. And with all the women Ned had kissed in his life, for the first time ever, he had a feeling of coming home, of returning somewhere after a long time away. He reached a little farther with his tongue as he pressed his lips against hers a little more firmly, and she leaned in as well, giving a bit more of herself to him, pressing her body into his as well.

Ned could feel himself coming to life as he pressed between her legs, and instead of pulling away, Béa shifted her leg so she could rub against him a little, like a promise of things to come, and Ned's head swam with all that this little motion implied. He could feel her small breasts pressing into him, and he wanted to take her, right there, next to the lake, with no thought as to who might be watching or who might come along.

Wow.

Finally she pulled away, giving a delighted little laugh as she leaned her forehead against his.

"Ned, my English is so bad, but this is best first kiss I ever have in my life, you understand?"

"Yeah, I do, and Béa?

"Sí?"

"Me too. Me too."