‘Fair enough.’ While he understood that, the rest he didn’t get. ‘What are you hoping to achieve by this, Ariana?’
‘More than I am right now,’ she said, and gave a hollow laugh.
He looked at her then.
Properly looked.
Ariana was, of course, exquisitely beautiful, with a delicate bone structure, but he suddenly noticed that rather than the trademark black eyes of her father and brothers, or the icy blue ones of her mother, Ariana’s eyes were a deep navy-violet, almost as if they’d tried to get from blue to black, but had surrendered just shy of arrival.
Gian rather wished he hadn’t noticed the beguiling colour of them and rapidly diverted his gaze back to her résumé.
‘Why don’t you formally interview me?’ Ariana suggested. ‘As if we don’t know each other. Surely you can do that?’
‘Of course, but if you want an honest interview, what happens if you are not successful?’ She wouldn’t be, he knew, but as he looked up she held his gaze as she answered.
‘Then I shall walk away, knowing I tried.’
Walk away, Gian wanted to warn her, for there was a sudden energy between them that could never end well.
He scanned through her supposed work experience and attempted to wipe out a lifetime of history so they could face each other as two strangers. In the end, he reverted to his usual interview technique. ‘Tell me about a recent time when you had to deal with a difficult client or contact...’
She wouldn’t be able to, Gian was certain.
‘Well...’ Ariana thought for a moment. ‘I wanted an interview with the owner of a very prestigious hotel, but I did not want to utilise my family contacts as I felt that would do me no favours.’
Gian felt his lips tighten when it became clear that she was speaking about trying to get in contact with him. ‘Ariana,’ he cut in, ‘may I suggest that you don’t make the person interviewing you the difficult contact.’
‘But he was difficult. My goal was to get a full audience,’ Ariana continued, ‘and so I sent in my résumé, but when I heard nothing back...’
‘You sent in an application?’ Gian started scrolling through his computer, almost apologetic now, because an application from Ariana Romano should have been flagged—at the very least so he could personally reject her. ‘Vanda has been on leave over the festive period...’ He paused, for he could find nothing. ‘When did you send it?’
‘This morning,’ Ariana replied, and then took a sip of her champagne.
‘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
