As the driver closed the door, he looked over at Ariana. She was staring straight ahead and there was the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes that he knew were waiting to fall the very second she was alone. ‘Let’s get you home,’ Gian said as the car pulled away.
‘I don’t want to go home.’ Ariana shook her head and blinked back the tears. ‘I might call Nicki.’
Ariana’s friend Nicki ran rather wild and she would undoubtedly prescribe a night of drinking and clubbing as a cure for Ariana’s troubled heart. ‘How come Nicki wasn’t at the funeral?’ he asked.
‘She only got back from skiing this afternoon.’ Ariana scrabbled in her purse for her phone. ‘She’d have come if she could.’
Gian doubted it.
Nicki liked the galas and balls, and the spoils of being Ariana’s friend, but where was she now when her friend needed her most?
Gian did not quite know what to do.
If it were Stefano, or Dante, or even Angela—who he didn’t even like—Gian would suggest a drink at the hotel, or a walk perhaps. Conversation or silence, whatever they chose.
But this was Ariana.
He wished he hadn’t noticed her beauty, or the colour of her eyes.
Gian wished he could snap his fingers and return them to a time when she had been just the annoying little sister of a friend, the daughter of his beloved mentor... That thought had him stepping up to do the right thing, for he did not want Ariana in questionable company tonight. ‘Would you like to come back to La Fiordelise for a drink, or something to eat perhaps?’
‘I...’ His offer was so unexpected. Gian usually made her feel like an annoying presence, always trying to cut short their time together, and now it was he who was offering to extend it. ‘I don’t want to impose.’
‘It doesn’t normally stop you...’ Gian teased, but then, seeing her frown, realised that even the lightest joke wasn’t registering. ‘It would be my pleasure,’ he said. ‘I just need to make a quick call.’
Ariana pretended not to listen as he cancelled his date for the night. And his date for the night did not take it well.
‘Svetlana,’ he said, and Ariana blinked at the slight warning edge to his tone as she looked out at the dark streets. ‘Not now.’
And that slight warning edge had her stomach clenching and a small flush rising to her cheeks. She looked at Gian, who appeared incredibly bored at the unfolding drama.
Yes, drama, for she could hear the rise in Svetlana’s voice, and foolish, foolish Svetlana, Ariana thought, for she literally watched his impassiveness transform to disdain.
‘Svetlana, I am unable to see you tonight,’ Gian said, and then, when it was clear she had asked why, rather drily he answered, ‘Because I am unable to see you tonight.’
His lack of explanation must have infuriated Svetlana for even with the phone to his ear, Ariana heard her angry retort. ‘When then?’
‘Do I have to spell it out, Svetlana?’
It would appear that he did, and Ariana listened as very coldly and firmly he ended their relationship.
‘Gian,’ she said as they pulled up at La Fiordelise, ‘please, call her back. I can go home. I really didn’t want to make trouble for you...’
‘Forget it.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘We were always going to end.’
In fact, he hadn’t seen Svetlana all week.
Somehow they had bumped through the concert at Teatro dell’Opera but instead of returning to the sumptuous suite behind his office, Gian had taken her home.
‘Why did you break up with her?’ Ariana asked as they stood outside the car beneath the bright entrance lights.
‘Because she wanted more.’
‘More?’
‘She had started to drop into the hotel unannounced,’ he said. Ariana just frowned. ‘And she wanted to come up to my residence...’
Her frown deepened.
‘As well as that, she wanted to come with me to your father’s funeral.’
‘Oh?’ Ariana said, but it was more a question, because she didn’t really understand.
‘As if we were a couple.’ Gian attempted to explain his closed-off life, but clearly still bewildered, Ariana gave the tiniest shake of her head and so he elaborated. ‘She wanted things to progress and that was not what we had agreed.’
‘What did you agree to?’
‘Only the best parts.’ Gian did not soften his words. ‘Dinner in a nice restaurant, a trip to the theatre...’
‘I assume sex?’
‘Correct.’
‘So if not in your residence...’
‘Ariana, I am not discussing this with you. Suffice it to say I never want a relationship.’ He ended the matter. ‘You’re cold, let’s go in.’
‘To the restaurant?’ Ariana asked.
‘I thought the Pianoforte Bar...’
Her eyes narrowed, recalling Svetlana being denied a seat at his restaurant. Despite his kind invitation to keep her company, she knew she was also being kept at arm’s length.
‘No, thank you.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t need the noise of a bar tonight, even one as elegant as yours...’ Ariana fished and she fished, but Gian did not take the bait, nor upgrade her to restaurant status, even as she stood there and sulked. ‘I think I might go for a walk.’
‘In heels?’ Gian frowned.
‘I have my flats in my bag. I’ll be fine on my own,’ she said, waving him away as she took off her heels and went to put her flats on, but where was a marble pillar when you needed one?
Gian would not be waved off, though, and neither was he Prince Charming, for he did not go down on his knees to help, instead offering his arm. ‘Lean on me.’ He took one black stiletto that she handed to him and passed her a flat, and then it was all repeated with the other foot.
‘Let’s walk,’ Gian said.
For Ariana, it felt like the right choice. Piazza Navona, the grand, elegant square overlooked by La Fiordelise, was beautifully lit. Its fountains were hypnotic and a little of the tension of the day left as they strolled.
It felt different at night.
Or rather it
