‘This morning.’ Gian sighed, and leaned back in his chair. He looked upon the epitome of instant gratification. When Ariana wanted something she wanted it now!
‘So, when I heard nothing back, I printed off my résumé and took it to him personally.’
‘And what was the result?’
‘I made him smile,’ Ariana said.
‘No,’ Gian corrected, ‘you didn’t.’
‘Almost.’
‘Not even close.’ He let out a breath as he tried to hold onto patience. ‘Ariana, you asked for a proper interview, so treat it as if we’ve never met. Now, tell me about a time you were able to deal successfully with another person even when you may not have liked them.’
‘Okay...’ She chewed her bottom lip and thought for less than a moment. ‘My father was recently given a terminal diagnosis. He still has months to live,’ she added rather urgently, ‘but...’ She swallowed, for Ariana could not bear to think of a time months from now and dragged her mind back to the present. ‘I am not a fan of his new wife.’
‘Ariana, I am asking about professional—’
‘However,’ she cut in, ‘I spoke calmly to her and said that I would like to be part of all interviews with the doctors and that for his sake, we should at least be polite.’
Curiosity got the better of him. ‘How is that working out?’
She gave a snooty sniff and re-crossed her legs. ‘We’ve both kept our sides of the agreement.’
Gian rather doubted it. Ariana and Mia were a toxic mix indeed! ‘I was actually hoping you could give me examples that involve work, Ariana.’
‘Oh, believe me,’ she countered. ‘Mia is work.’
Gian just wanted this charade over and done with. Both their glasses were nearly empty so he would ask one more question and then send her on her precocious way. ‘Tell me about a time where you did something for someone else, not to earn favour, and without letting them know.’
‘That would defeat the purpose,’ Ariana deftly answered, ‘if I later use it in an interview to show how benevolent I am.’
He liked her answer. In fact, were it a real interview, it might score her points, except he wasn’t sure that Ariana wasn’t simply being evasive. ‘It’s an important question, Ariana,’ he told her. ‘The role of Guest Services is to make a stay at La Fiordelise appear seamlessly unique. The aim is that our guests never know the work that goes on behind the scenes. So,’ he added, ‘I would like an honest answer.’
‘Very well.’ She was hesitant, though, for to tell him revealed more than she cared to. ‘My brother...’ She tried to remember that this was an interview and she should treat Gian as if he were a stranger. ‘My twin brother, Stefano, is to marry soon—at the end of May.’
‘And?’
‘I have been somewhat excluded from the wedding plans.’
‘Despite your extensive planning experience,’ he added rather drily.
‘Despite that!’ Ariana answered crisply. ‘They have decided that they don’t need my help.’
He saw the jut of her chin and that her hands were rigid in her lap, and suddenly Gian did not like the question he had asked, for he could see it was hurting her to answer.
‘Eloa,’ Ariana continued, ‘Stefano’s fiancée, had her heart set on the wedding being held at Palazzo Pamphili...’
‘Where the Brazilian Embassy is housed.’ Gian nodded. He knew it well, for the superb building was across the square from the hotel, and even with his connections he knew how hard it would be to arrange a wedding there.
‘I sorted it,’ Ariana said.
‘How?’ Gian frowned, quietly impressed.
‘That is for me to know,’ Ariana responded. ‘However, to this day, Eloa and Stefano think that they arranged the reception venue by themselves.’
‘You haven’t told them that you were behind it?’
‘No. They have made it clear they don’t want my help and it might sour things for them to know I had a hand in it.’
She watched as he put down her résumé and she continued to watch his long fingers join and arch into a steeple. He slowly drew a breath and Ariana felt certain that he had not been persuaded, and that she was about to be told that his answer was still no. ‘I really do want to work, Gian.’ There was a slightly frantic note to her voice, which she fought to quash, but there was also desperation in her eyes that she could not hide. ‘I love the hotel industry and, you’re right, I should have done my placement here...’ It wasn’t just that, though. ‘I want some real independence. I’m tired of—’ She stopped herself, sure that Gian did not need to hear it.
Yet he found that he wanted to. ‘Go on,’ Gian invited, casting his more regular interview technique aside.
‘I’m tired of living in an apartment my family owns, tired of being on call when my mother decides I can drop everything for her. After all,’ she mimicked a derisive tone, ‘I couldn’t possibly be busy.’ She screwed her eyes closed in frustration, unable to properly explain the claustrophobic feeling of her privileged world.
Oh, many might say that life had been handed to Ariana Romano on a plate.
The trouble was, it wasn’t necessarily a feast of her choosing.
While she had a family who seemingly adored her, even as a child Ariana had always been told to take her toys and play somewhere else.
To this day it persisted.
While she had access to wealth most people could only dream of, there was a perpetual feeling of emptiness. For Ariana, the golden cup she drank from was so shot through with holes that no gifts—no trust-funded central Rome apartment, no wild party, no designer outfit or A-list appearance—filled her soul.
‘I want a career,’ Ariana insisted.
‘Why now?’ Gian pushed.
‘It’s a new year, a time when everyone takes stock...’ She suddenly looked beyond Gian to the window behind him and saw white flakes dance in the darkness. ‘It is starting to snow.’
‘Don’t change the subject,’ Gian said, without so
