while back one of the other owners thought of challenging him for the top job, but he was “persuaded” not to. Nobody knows how, but neither was anyone surprised.
‘When he gives his orders we jump to attention, especially me, because he could fire me any time he likes. I’m only telling you so that you’ll take care not to offend him.
‘We’ll dine with him tonight and tomorrow you will meet all the Comunità members. They’re looking forward to having you spread the word about our lovely city.’
‘But isn’t the word already out? Surely Romeo and Juliet is the most famous love story in the world?’
‘True, but we need to make people realise how they can become involved. Now, I’ll show you to your room.’
On their way up they passed two men having a noisy argument. One was clearly in command, yelling, ‘Capisci? Capisci?’ so fiercely that the other backed off.
‘What does that word mean?’ Natasha asked curiously. ‘It really scared the other guy.’
‘It means “Do you understand?”’ Giorgio laughed. ‘It’s really just a way of saying “You’ll do as I say. Get it?”’
‘It sounds useful.’
‘It can be, if you’re trying to make it clear who’s in charge.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve had it said to me a few times. Here’s your room.’
Like the rest of the place, her room was elegant and luxurious. A huge window looked out over the river, where the sun shone on the water. The atmosphere seemed peaceful and she took a deep contented breath.
When she’d unpacked she took a shower and began work on her appearance. For this meeting she was going to look her best.
She was attractive so not too much effort was required. Her blue eyes were large and expressive. Her blonde hair had just a touch of red that showed in some lights but not in others.
Natasha pinned her hair high on her head, suggesting businesslike severity. Usually, she preferred to let it flow, curved and luscious about her shoulders in a more relaxed way.
But not tonight, she mused, studying herself in the mirror. Tonight I’m a businesswoman, here to earn a living.
She fixed her hair firmly away from her face until she felt it conveyed the serious message she intended. Giorgio had warned her that the owner was a man to be reckoned with, but she could deal with that. She’d meet him on his own ground, a woman to be reckoned with.
‘I did the right thing in coming here,’ she whispered. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’
* * *
In Venice, a city where most of the roads were water, motor cars could only come as far as Piazzale Roma, the car park on the edge of town. In the glowing heat of a sunny day, Mario Ferrone went to collect his car, accompanied by his brother Damiano.
‘It sounds like your hotel is doing really well,’ Damiano said. ‘You’ve got a great future ahead of you.’
‘I think I just might have,’ Mario said, grinning.
‘No doubt,’ Damiano said cheerfully. ‘After all, look who taught you.’
This was a reference to Damiano’s successful career as the owner of several hotels. Mario had learned the trade working in many of them and had finally become ambitious for his own establishment.
‘That’s right, I learned from the best,’ Mario said. ‘And having a place in Verona is a help. Several of us hoteliers have got together to promote the Romeo and Juliet angle.’
‘The city of lovers,’ Damiano said wryly. ‘That should suit you. You’d hardly believe some of the tales I’ve heard about you.’
‘Not recently,’ Mario said quickly.
‘No, you’ve settled down these last couple of years, but before that I remember you gave a whole new meaning to the term “bad boy”.’
‘Most of us do before we find the right woman,’ Mario pointed out.
‘True. I wasn’t a saint before I met Sally. But you haven’t met your “Sally”, so what made you suddenly become virtuous?’
‘Virtuous? Me? No need to insult me.’
Damiano grinned. ‘So is it just a smokescreen?’
‘No. I really have changed, not necessarily for the better.’
‘Don’t say that. You’re much improved—quieter, more serious, more grown-up...’
‘More suspicious and demanding, nastier sometimes,’ Mario said quietly.
‘Hey, why do you put yourself down?’
‘Perhaps because I know myself better than anyone else does. I’m not the nice guy I used to be—if I ever was.’
‘So what made it happen?’
Mario clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t ask me. It’s a long story, and one that—well, that I don’t care to think of too often. Let’s leave it. I’d better be going. Giorgio has hired a journalist he says will be brilliant at promoting the Romeo and Juliet angle. I’m meeting her for dinner when I get back tonight.’
‘Best of luck. Goodbye, brother.’
They embraced each other. Damiano stood back, waving as Mario turned out of the car park and across the causeway that led to the mainland.
From Venice to Verona was nearly seventy-five miles. During the journey Mario reflected wryly on his brother’s words. Damiano didn’t know that one of the turning points in Mario’s life had been Damiano’s marriage to Sally, four years earlier. Mario had been strongly attracted to Sally, something he’d had to fight. He’d fought it by working in Damiano’s hotels in Rome, Florence, Milan, only rarely returning to Venice.
Until then his life had been free and easy. He was young, charming and handsome, with no trouble attracting women. He’d had many girlfriends. Too many, he now realised.
He’d returned to Venice for the birth of his brother’s son and found, to his relief, that Sally no longer attracted him, except as a sister. He’d settled into a life of work and pleasure.
Then had come the other great turning point in his life, when he’d met the one woman who could make a difference, drive away the loneliness and give his existence meaning.
Fantasy dictated that she should feel the same and throw herself into his arms. The bitter reality was that she had walked out on him, slamming the door in his face, condemning him to a bleak isolation that was all the worse because he had glimpsed a glorious future, and come so close to embracing it.
Buying the hotel two years ago had been a lucky chance. The owner was eager to sell and accepted a discounted price, and now Mario felt that he was headed for success and independence. If he did nothing else in his life he would triumph in this, he vowed to himself. With that hope to guide him he could banish the pain and bleakness of the last two years.
At last he reached the hotel. Giorgio came to the entrance to greet him.
‘It’s all set up,’ he said.
‘Has the lady arrived?’
‘Yes, an hour ago. She’s not who I was expecting. The agency made a last-minute change, but she seems serious and professional.’
‘I can’t wait to meet her.’ As they walked across the elegant lobby, Mario looked around him at the place he was beginning to regard as his kingdom. ‘You know, I have the best possible feeling about this,’ he said. ‘We’re on the right road, and we’re going to reach a great destination.’
‘One where the money is,’ Giorgio supplied with a grin.
‘Of course,