Reunited with Her Italian Ex

Downstairs, a table was laid for them in a private room overlooking the river. Giorgio led Natasha to the chair nearest the window and drew it out for her.

A waiter hurried in, eager to serve the hotel’s owner. His manner was respectful and she was reminded of Giorgio’s words:

‘When he gives his orders we all jump to attention...’

She’d known him as a cheeky playboy, always ready to laugh and use his charm. It was hard to see the man he’d been then as the stern authoritarian that Giorgio described now. But his face had changed, growing slightly thinner, firmer, more intense. Even his smile had something reserved about it.

Turning her eyes to him briefly, she caught him glancing at her and realised that he was studying her too. What did he see? Had she also changed, becoming older, sterner, less relaxed? Probably. Perhaps she should be glad, for it would make her stronger. And she was going to need strength now.

Giorgio claimed her attention, filling her wine glass, smiling at her with an air of deferential admiration. He had probably been handsome in his youth, and still had the air of a practised flirt.

‘How much were you told about this job?’ he asked her.

‘Only that some Verona hotel owners had got together to promote the city’s connection with Romeo and Juliet,’ Natasha said.

‘That’s right. It’s already well promoted by the council, which works hard to bring tourists here. But the hotel owners wanted to enjoy a bit more of the spotlight, so they formed the Comunità di Verona Ospitalità so that they could make the most of being in the town that saw the greatest love story in the world.

‘Shakespeare didn’t invent Romeo and Juliet. There really were two families called Montague and Capulet, and they did have children who fell in love, and died. It happened in the early fourteenth century. In the next two hundred years the story was told and retold, until finally Shakespeare based his play on the legend. Tourists come here to see “Juliet’s balcony” and imagine the balcony scene happening there.’

‘Which it didn’t,’ Mario observed drily. ‘The house belonged to a family called Capello, but the council added the balcony less than a hundred years ago.’

‘But if everyone knows that—’ Natasha mused.

‘They know it but they ignore it,’ Giorgio said cheerfully. ‘People are often tempted to believe only what they want to.’

‘How true,’ Natasha murmured. ‘That’s why we’re all so easily taken in.’

She didn’t look directly at Mario as she said these words, but she had a sense that he was watching her with an air of tension that matched her own.

‘And that’s what we can make use of,’ Giorgio said. ‘Juliet’s balcony, Juliet’s tomb, where Romeo killed himself because he couldn’t bear life without her, and where she killed herself for the same reason. Is it true? It is if we want it to be.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Natasha mused. ‘True if we want it to be—until one day we have to face the fact that it isn’t true, however much we want it.’

‘But that’s show business,’ Giorgio said. ‘Creating a fantasy that makes people happy.’

‘And what more could we want than that?’ Mario asked.

He raised his glass and drank from it, seemingly oblivious to her. But the next moment he said, ‘Tell us something about yourself, signorina.’

She turned her head, meeting his eyes directly. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said I’d like to know about you. I’m sure there is much you could tell us. What are your family obligations? Are you free to live in Verona for several weeks, or is there someone at home who will be missing you?’

‘I suppose there must be,’ Giorgio said. He assumed a chivalrous air. ‘This is a lovely lady. She must have crowds of men following her.’

‘That doesn’t mean that I let them catch up,’ Natasha teased.

‘Some women are very good at keeping out of sight,’ Mario said.

‘Of course,’ Giorgio agreed. ‘That’s the secret. Let them chase after you, but don’t let any of them get close enough to know what you’re thinking and feeling.’ He kissed her hand gallantly. ‘Signorina, I can see you’re an expert in keeping your admirers wondering.’

‘But just what are they wondering?’ Mario asked. ‘Will any of them arrive here to assert his “rights”?’

‘What rights?’ Giorgio demanded. ‘She’s not married.’

‘That’s irrelevant,’ Mario observed. ‘You have only to study Romeo and Juliet to see that men and women make that decision within a few moments of meeting. And nobody dares get in their way.’

‘When people fear betrayal they can get violent,’ Giorgio agreed.

Natasha nodded. ‘And if they know for sure that they’ve been betrayed, there’s no knowing how far they’ll go to make someone sorry,’ she mused, letting her glance rest on Mario.

She was glad to see that he understood the silent message. Before her eyes he flinched and averted his gaze. When he spoke again it was in a voice so defiantly businesslike that it told its own story.

‘So we can expect a jealous lover to follow you out here?’ he said curtly.

She faced him, reading the chilly hostility in his eyes, answering it with her own.

‘On the contrary. You can be certain that nothing will make me leave before my work is finished,’ she said calmly. ‘Unlike some people, I’m honest about my intentions. I don’t make promises and break them.’

‘That’s not exactly what I asked.’

No, she thought. You asked whether I’d had the nerve to replace you with another man.

She gave him her most confident smile, as though his questions merely amused her.

‘Let me assure you that I am free,’ she said. ‘No man tells me what to do, and if anyone tried—’ she leaned closer to him ‘—I would make him regret that he ever knew me.’ She added significantly, ‘I’m good at that.’

‘I believe you,’ he said.

Giorgio glanced at them curiously. ‘Hey, do you two already know each other?’

‘No,’ Natasha said quickly, before Mario could speak.

‘Really? I feel like I’m watching a fencing match.’

‘It’s more fun that way,’ she said lightly. ‘Go on telling me about Verona. Unless, of course, Signor Ferrone has decided he doesn’t wish to employ me. In which case I’ll just pack up and go. Shall I?’

She made as if to rise but Mario’s hand detained her.

‘No need for that,’ he said harshly. ‘Let’s get on with the job.’

‘Yes, that’s the only thing that matters,’ she said, falling back into the chair.

For a moment he kept his hand on her arm. ‘So we are agreed? You will stay?’

‘I will stay.’

CHAPTER TWO (#u45dcf476-a550-5dba-af63-dc012d1e4463)