‘Bill!’ Emma protested.’
‘Well, it’s true,’ he said, unabashed.
‘It’s all right, Emma,’ Giselle assured the PA. ‘My chosen profession is architecture, Bill,’ She pointed out calmly. ‘Not prostitution.’
‘You mean it is if you can keep your job. And, let’s face it, you certainly won’t win any commissions with your female wiles,’ he sneered in response.
‘I don’t need to use any wiles, female or otherwise, to keep my job,’ Giselle couldn’t resist coming back at him pointedly, causing him to colour up angrily.
Bill was one of those employees who liked to play the good team player in front of those he thought it would impress, whilst being very much a person who put himself first. Bill liked to use their shared gender to get the other men in the office on side with him, and to exclude her, but Giselle had never seen any real evidence that he was the team player he liked to claim he was.
In the senior partners’ office the atmosphere was thick with a mixture of tension and determination—the tension coming from Mr Shepherd, one of the senior partners, and the determination from Saul Parenti, the man he needed to satisfy that his firm was up to the challenge being set.
‘Yes, of course I accept that you wish to meet and speak with the team who will be working on the changes to the plans you have requested. Perhaps lunch with the other senior partners involved in the plans?’
‘I wish to meet everyone involved in the project—senior and junior,’ Saul stressed briskly.
He did not have time to waste. He was already running late, thanks to the woman who had stolen his parking space and a telephone call from his cousin. Aldo, five years his junior and recently married, might be Grand Duke of Arezzio, thanks to the fact that his father had been their grandfather’s eldest son, and his own the younger, but he still turned to him when he needed financial advice. Saul shrugged inwardly. He had done his best to help his young cousin build up some reserves for the royal coffers of Arezzio, the small country on what had once been the border between the old Austrian Empire and Croatia, but Aldo was not a businessman—he was more of an academic. He did not like the harsh cut and thrust of modern business, and preferred to spend his time cataloguing the rare books in the library of his castle in Arezzio.
Saul was grateful for the fact that his father had not been the elder brother, and that he had been spared the onerous duty of becoming Arezzio’s Grand Duke, being forced to marry and produce an heir. He might not have approved when Aldo had married Natasha, because he didn’t think Natasha loved his cousin, but he would be very pleased when their marriage produced the child that would mean that he would be not just one but two steps removed from the Dukedom. He was, he believed, like his mother. Like her, he loved the excitement and adventure of new challenges and demands on his energy. Her life had been her aid work. She had loved his father, and no doubt she had loved him too, but parenting a child had not been the focus of his mother’s life.
His own view now was that it would be wrong for him to bring a child into the world when he knew how little time he would have for it. He was driven in his work, in his need to explore the outer boundaries of creating the most exciting and enticing of luxurious holiday destinations which at the same time supported the environment and the local population. It was a purpose to which his emotional time as well as his physical time was given over wholly. He would not have a child and leave it to be raised by others, and he did not need or want an heir. When the time came for him to hand over the business he would find the right hands to hold it safe.
Given all that, financing his cousin—and thus in part the country itself—was a small price to pay for his personal freedom.
A personal freedom he never intended to relinquish, either via a public commitment or a private one—of any kind.
Saul could see the senior partner of the architectural firm who had been commissioned to design the complex its previous owner had planned to create on the island did not approve of Saul’s demand. It always irritated him when people failed to grasp why he made the decisions he did and delayed executing the orders that related to those decisions. Their failure betrayed a lack of vision and foresight, as well as poor financial acumen. Which was no doubt why the firm was on the point of bankruptcy—or would have been if he hadn’t just confirmed that he intended to keep them on and go ahead with the redevelopment of the island.
At the back of his mind was the thought that, should he increase his financial interest in such projects, adding an architectural practice to his portfolio of business holdings would be financially beneficial. For now, though, he intended to make it plain that he would not be paying them the kind of fees they had previously anticipated, and he would be keeping a far tighter control of both budgets and plans for the venture. Taking and keeping control was why he was a billionaire, with his fortune growing every day, whilst other rich men were losing money.
‘I wish to see them all because I want to make it clear to them that from now on it is my instructions they will be following and my approval they must win,’ he informed the senior partner. ‘The previous plans were spouting wasted money like a leaking colander.’
‘Our original brief was that no expense be spared,’ Mr Shepherd protested defensively.
Saul gave him a cool look.
‘Which is no doubt why one of your junior staff elected to have the floor of a summerhouse that is open to the weather tiled in handmade tiles that are not frostproof.’
‘An error which of course would have been picked up,’ the senior partner assured him.
‘Of course. But I prefer those who work for me not to make such errors in the first place.’ Saul looked at his watch, and this time the senior partner stood up.
‘I believe all our staff are in the building. I will arrange for all those who worked on the plans to be summoned,’ he said unwillingly.
‘I have a better idea,’ Saul told him. ‘Why don’t you show me round the office instead, and introduce me to them that way?’
It often paid to see what people were working on. Fortunes could be built—and destroyed—by such means.
The whisper had spread through the office. ‘The project’s going ahead and he’s keeping us on.’ And naturally everyone’s mood was upbeat and buoyant, with all the staff relieved to have the worry of the last couple of months, when they hadn’t known whether or not they would end up being made redundant, finally removed.
Giselle was as relieved as everyone else. She’d worked hard to get where she was, to qualify for and get a job that would enable her to support herself all through her adult life—because she would have to support herself. She knew that. There would never be a man, a partner, a husband who loved her and whom she loved in turn to share the burden of providing a roof over their head with her. How could there be when—?
The door to their office opened, and everyone fell silent as Mr Shepherd, one of the senior partners, came in—an unheard-of event. But it wasn’t the sight of him that had driven the colour from Giselle’s face, leaving it bleached of colour as she stared into the face of the man accompanying him.
It was the man from the car park. The man whose space she had stolen—the man who was now their most important client, Giselle recognised as she heard the senior partner introduce him.
‘Mr Parenti wishes to meet all those who have worked or will be working on the plans for the island project,’ the senior partner announced.
‘Saul,’ their new client corrected the older man. ‘Not Mr Parenti.’ Respect, as far as he was concerned, was something that was earned, not bestowed, and he had no doubt at all about his ability to earn the respect of others.
Whilst he was speaking he was studying the occupants of the room, his gaze cold and analytical, giving nothing away—until he saw and recognised Giselle. On her he allowed his gaze to rest just that little bit longer, so that she would be aware of his recognition of her and be forced to recognise the mistake she had made when she had stolen his parking spot.
Giselle felt the anger in his gaze scorching her conscience, but years of forcing herself never to appear outwardly vulnerable had her lifting her head and meeting his gaze head-on.
She was daring to challenge him? Saul was a recognisably formidable man, whom no one defied—especially not someone who was in the wrong, and especially not when that someone was financially dependent on him, as this woman most decidedly was. He was used to women attempting to bring themselves to his attention because they desired him and his wealth, not so that they could challenge him.
Twice now she had angered him, which meant that she now had two debts to repay—and he would see that she settled up, Saul decided as the senior partner began to introduce his junior architects to him.
Why, why, of all the men parking their cars in London had she had to steal the parking spot of this man? Giselle agonised inwardly. There was no point in telling herself that her behaviour had been out of character and born of desperation—that would not mean anything to the man slowly making his way towards her.
One by one he spoke to all the juniors, asking them which part of the plan they had worked on. Bill, of course, immediately went into his ‘I’m a team player and I get everyone onside with me’ routine, whilst at the same time managing to send a look in her direction which said that she was not part of that team. Little did Bill know that he had no need to try to make their new client have doubts about her. She’d already done a wonderful job of that herself.
Her stomach tense with apprehension, Giselle waited, and waited, knowing that retribution was going to fall, and knowing too that he was enjoying drawing out her torment.
And then he was standing in front of her, the powerful magnetic quality of his personality causing her to take a step back from him
‘And you, Ms…?’
‘Giselle,’ Giselle answered. ‘Giselle Freeman.’
‘And your contribution to the plans was…?’
‘Cold storage, wasn’t it?’ someone laughed, but Giselle ignored them.
‘I worked on the air conditioning, with an ecological brief to be incorporated,’ she said stiffly.
‘A brief which I think I am correct in saying is currently running over-budget?’ Saul pointed out as he allowed his gaze to slide slowly and thoroughly over her.
He’d picked up on the look Bill had given her and had guessed that she was as unpopular with them as she’d made herself with him. That would mean that she was not an effective team player, and that would hinder work on any project in which she participated. He was surprised that the practice kept her on.
Giselle’s heart pounded with fear. She’d been transferred to work on the air conditioning because it had run over-budget and because she was known to be good at working within budget—but she could hardly say so when not even Mr Shepherd had come to her defence.
Saul Parenti was playing with her, she knew. He was going to ask for her to be removed from the project, she could tell, and then she would probably be sacked. A cold sweat began to break out on her skin, and her stomach was churning with nausea. She couldn’t lose her job. She mustn’t. And beneath her fear was an angry contempt for this man who was using his power to torment her that she dared not let him see.
‘I am not happy with the car parking arrangements for the complex,’ Saul continued, turning back to the senior partner and breaking the tense silence that had gripped the room. ‘Perhaps Giselle should work on those, whilst someone with more experience takes over from her with the air conditioning.’
Giselle could feel her face burning. He had both insulted her professional ability and scored a point over her for her morning run-in with him. He had humiliated her publicly, she admitted helplessly, as the senior partner hastily assured him that, yes, indeed, she could do exactly that.