And then she flushed with sheer pleasure when she recalled the very reason she now could not.
It was her favourite memory, a harbour in troubled times she could return to, yet there was confusion there too—how, from the very moment they had kissed, Gian had started the countdown to the end.
She had stopped having drinks there on a Friday. Well, Paulo had been banned and Nicki said they should no longer go in solidarity with their friend.
Except Ariana had loved going there...
‘Signorina?’
The voice of the driver startled her and Ariana realised they had arrived. Time tended to run away whenever she thought of Gian, and so she determinedly put him out of her mind as she walked into the plush office building.
Sarah, Dante’s PA, gave her a smile. ‘Go through,’ she said and then added, ‘Good luck.’
‘Do I need it?’ Ariana joked, but then all joking faded when she saw him. ‘Dante!’ She could not keep the surprise from her voice when she saw her older brother, looking less than his put-together self, for his complexion was grey and his shirt was crumpled and there was just such a heavy air to him. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked as she went over and kissed his cheeks and gave him a hug. ‘I’ve barely seen you. Mamma is saying the same.’
‘Well, work has been busy.’
‘I’m sure it has.’ She nodded. ‘What’s happening about the ball?’
‘It’s all under control. I’m meeting with Gian at five to finalise the details...’ His voice trailed off. There was a strange atmosphere in the office, and for an appalling moment she wondered if Dante had found out about their one illicit night, or rather illicit morning.
‘And?’ she asked with a nervous laugh. ‘What are the final details?’
Dante said nothing.
‘How are we addressing Papà’s passing?’ Ariana pushed.
‘I’m sure Gian will take care of that.’
‘But in the will Papà asked that his children take care of the ball,’ Ariana said, but then stopped and sat chewing the edge of her thumbnail. She was worried about Dante. Though not as close to him as she had always been to Stefano, she knew there was something wrong. He was grieving for their father, but she couldn’t help but think there was more to it than that. ‘Is everything okay, Dante?’ she ventured.
‘Of course.’
‘You can talk to me. I might just understand.’ He closed his eyes, as if she couldn’t possibly. ‘Look, why don’t I meet with Gian?’ There was genuinely no ulterior motive, just a need to get the ball right for their father. ‘I can take over the ball...’
‘Would you?’ Dante’s relief was evident.
‘Of course.’ Ariana nodded.
It was only then that her nerves caught up!
Ariana walked by the laghetto for a full hour. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom and the park looked stunning, and if there was a little trepidation about coming face to face with Gian it was soon displaced as something else took hold. Excitement. It felt like for ever since her brain had been put to work.
Sitting on a bench, looking at the blossom swirl and float like pink snow, it was the perfect place for her imagination to wander. Scrabbling in her bag, she took out a journal and started to make notes.
It was exhilarating, cathartic, and there were tears in her eyes as memories danced while words formed on the page. It was right that she take over the ball, Ariana knew, for she knew how best to celebrate her father.
Ariana wasn’t even nervous about facing Gian.
She had so much to tell him.
‘I have Ariana Romano in Reception to see you,’ Luna informed him.
‘Ariana?’ Gian frowned. ‘But I thought I was meeting with Dante...’
‘Well, Ariana is here instead.’
‘Fine.’ Gian did his level best to act as if it were of no consequence that it was Ariana who had just arrived. It was an informal meeting, but also a very necessary meeting. One that Gian had pushed for, given Dante seemed to have—both figuratively and literally—dropped the ball. ‘Send her through.’
Damn.
Gian usually had no qualms about facing an ex-lover, but with Ariana it felt different indeed.
It was because they were family friends, he told himself, steadfastly refusing to examine his feelings further than that.
It had been weeks since the funeral and to his quiet surprise he had heard nothing from Ariana. He had expected the demanding, rather clingy Ariana to drape herself like bindweed around one of the columns in Reception, or at the very least find an accidental reason for her to drop by.
And now she was here.
He was curious as to her mood, and very determined to get things back on a more regular footing, as if they had never made love.
As if they had not sat eating ice cream naked in her bed.
She stepped into his office, and brought with her an Italian spring. He had to consciously remind himself to greet her the same way he would have before...
‘Ariana...’ He stood and went round his desk and of course kissed her cheeks. There were dots of pink blossom in her hair and he had to resist lifting his hand and carefully picking them out. ‘This is unexpected...’
‘I know.’ She gave him an apologetic smile and an eye-roll as she took her seat but she was too excited to be awkward around him. ‘Dante and I agreed that I will take over the final preparations for the ball. Believe me, I did not engineer it...’
He knew she spoke the truth.
For Ariana with a secret agenda would be immaculate, rather than bare-legged and a little tousled. Plus, she was more animated than he had ever seen her and dived straight in.
‘Firstly, I don’t want to go with the forest theme...’
‘Thank God,’ Gian said. ‘What theme do you have in mind?’
‘None,’ Ariana said. ‘I want the ballroom to speak for itself, and I want gardenias on each table. He loved them.’
‘Yes.’
‘And
