And he knew too that her father wasn’t at home in Luctano but in a private hospital in Florence and so she gave him a brief update. ‘Dante is hoping to have Papà moved here to Rome,’ Ariana said, but left out the hospice word. ‘That should make things a bit easier.’
‘Easier for whom?’ Gian enquired.
‘For his family,’ Ariana responded tartly, but then squirmed inwardly, for it was the very question she had been asking herself since her brothers had suggested the move. ‘His children are all here, his Rome office...’ Her voice trailed off. Though the impressive Romano Holdings offices were in the EUR business district of Rome, Dante had taken over the running of the company when their father had remarried.
Gian’s question was a pertinent one—and confirmed for Ariana that she needed to speak with her father and find out exactly what it was he wanted for the final months of his life. ‘It is not all decided,’ she admitted to Gian. ‘We are just testing ideas.’
‘Good,’ Gian said, and she blinked at the gentler edge to his tone. ‘I visited him yesterday.’
‘You visited him in Florence?’
‘Of course. You know I have a sister hotel opening there in May?’ Gian checked, and Ariana nodded. ‘I always try and drop in on Rafael when I am there.’
For some reason that brought the threat of tears to her eyes, but she hastily blinked them back. Ariana was not one for tears—well, not real ones; crocodile tears she excelled at—but at times Florence, where her father was in hospital, felt so far away. It was an hour or so by plane and she visited as much as she could. So did her brothers, and of course Mia was there and the family home in Luctano was nearby...but at night, when she couldn’t sleep, Ariana always thought of her father alone.
There was a break in the conversation that Gian did absolutely nothing to fill. A pregnant pause was something Ariana was incapable of. If there was a gap she felt duty-bound to speak. Any lull in proceedings and she felt it her place to perform. Gian, she felt, would let this silence stretch for ever and so of course it was she who ended it. ‘Gian, there is a reason I am here...’
Of course there was!
Her slender hands twisted in her lap. She was nervous, Gian realised. This was most unlike Ariana, who was usually supremely confident—arrogant, in fact. It dawned on him then what this urgent appointment might be about. Did she want to bring her latest lover here, without it being billed to the Romano guest folio so as to avoid her father or brothers finding out?
It was often the case with family accounts, but if that was what Ariana was about to ask him...
No way!
There was no question he would facilitate her bringing her latest lover to stay here! ‘What is it you want?’ Gian asked, and she blinked at the edge to his tone.
‘I have decided that I want a career.’
‘A career?’ His features relaxed and there was even a shadow of a smile that he did not put down to relief that she wasn’t intending to bring her lover here. It was typical of Ariana to say she wanted a career, rather than a job. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I’ve given it a great deal of thought.’
‘And your career of choice?’
‘I would like to be Guest Services Manager here at La Fiordelise. Or rather I would like to be Guest Services Manager for your VIPs.’
‘All of my guests are VIPs, Ariana.’
‘You know what I mean.’
He had to consciously resist rolling his eyes. ‘Why would I simply hand you such a position when you have no experience? Why would I let you near my VIPs?’
‘Because I am one!’ Ariana retorted, but then rather hurriedly checked herself. ‘What I am trying to say is that I know their ways. Please, Gian. I really want this.’
Gian knew very well that whatever Ariana wanted, Ariana got—until she grew bored and dismissed it. Ariana should have been put over her father’s knee many years ago and learned the meaning of the word ‘no’. There was no way on God’s earth that she was going to play careers at his hotel. So, rather than go through the motions, he shook his head. ‘Ariana, let me stop you right there. While I appreciate—’
‘Actually,’ she cut in swiftly, ‘I would like some refreshments after all. Perhaps, given the hour, some champagne is in order.’ Her pussycat smile was triumphant as she prevented him ending their conversation.
Ever the consummate host, Gian nodded politely. ‘Naturalmente.’ He pressed the intercom. ‘Luna, would you please bring in champagne for myself and Ariana.’
Ariana’s smile remained. No doubt, Gian assumed, she was thinking she had won, but what she did not quite understand was that Gian was always and absolutely one step ahead. Luna had worked at La Fiordelise even before his family had died and knew his nuances well. It was often what was not said that counted, and right at this moment Vincenzo, the bar manager, would be pouring two glasses of French champagne.
A bottle and ice bucket would not be arriving.
This was no tête-à-tête.
‘I have brought my résumé,’ Ariana said, digging in her suede designer cinnamon bag and producing a document, which she handed to him. He took it without a word and as he read through it, Gian found again that he fought an incredulous smile.
For someone who had practically never worked a day in her life, Ariana Romano had an impressive résumé indeed.
At least, it read well. She had studied hospitality and tourism management, although he knew that already. Naturally, she was on the Romano Board, and on the Romano Foundation Board too.
As well as that
