The Italian's Runaway Princess

by Andrea Bolter

  “It’s settled, then. Why don’t you leave your luggage here?” Gio stood and gathered up his things, having been alerted on his phone that his driver was here. “Where can my driver drop you?”

  “I’ll just wander out on my own.”

  He escorted her to the street. “See you here at six.”

  Gio’s driver, Viggo, delivered him to the street-level glass doors of the Grasstech headquarters. The family kept a much larger campus of offices outside the city, but this central Florence location was where the company’s important decisions were still made. Gio passed through to the main reception area where a few employees were congregating.

  “Hello, Mr. Grassi,” one greeted.

  “Good morning, sir,” another followed.

  “Welcome, Mr. Grassi.”

  While he generally interacted with everyone he met on a first-name basis, he quite approved of the employees here addressing him formally at first. It was important to establish sole authority immediately.

  That had been part of the problem with his brother in the top seat. While he admired Dante as being more of a people person than he was—his brother had become a sort of brand ambassador for their company—Gio doubted he elicited much respect among the staff. Because, unfortunately, Dante spent more time being photographed with a different woman on his arm each evening at social functions than he did overseeing the company’s operations. Whereas Gio understood the ins and outs of Grasstech’s stronghold in the tech world and had specific plans on how to increase their dominance against the competition.

  While Dante had been happy to use the press to his advantage, the media were actually Gio’s first challenge of the day.

  As he made his way down the corridor to the corner office that was originally his father’s, Gio was aware of a pretty assistant in step beside him. Although she was an attractive young woman, Gio found his mind immediately flashed back to Luci’s gracious smile as she engaged the older ladies last night with a discussion of favorite holiday memories. Something about Luci had gotten under his skin. Which he needed to put a stop to right away. The last thing he wanted to be embroiled with was a woman, especially now that deceitful Francesca was the cause of his most pressing problem.

  “What can I get you, Mr. Grassi?” the assistant asked as she escorted him into his office.

  “A large bottle of cold water. And send in Samuele, thank you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mio amico.” Samuele di Nofri greeted Gio with a bear hug and affirmation of their lifelong friendship. The older man was Grasstech’s director of operations and had been working with the company since the day Gio’s father conceived of it. “Finally, we have you back in Firenze.”

  “Sit.” Gio gestured to one of the leather chairs that faced his sleek steel desk.

  “It was like yesterday that you were a boy, sitting at one of those desktop computers we used to keep here.” Samuele pointed to a wall where a row of clunky old computers used to be lined up. Before everyone had laptops that weighed less than a cup of coffee. “Six years old and you would sit for hours writing code.”

  “Technology has come a long way since then.”

  “Grazie al cielo.” Samuele kissed two fingers and lifted them to the sky.

  “Although then, we didn’t worry as much about security and hacking. Now look what I caused the company to have to deal with.”

  “It happens.”

  Yes, Gio’s early proclivity for computers had led him to eventually receive multiple degrees from Stanford University in California’s Silicon Valley. Then after years of apprenticeship in Tokyo, he emerged as one of the world’s most respected component designers.

  What Gio’s education and experience hadn’t taught him was how to look out for Francesca and her kind. With her eight-foot-long legs and her crimson red lips, she was a skilled and practiced seductress. She had set her sights on the workaholic techie Grassi brother and had not relented until she’d got what she wanted. Which was not his heart.

  No, what Francesca wanted were secrets about Grasstech’s new memory modules that were destined to take drop-in compatibility wider than the industry had seen before. So while Gio was conceiving, designing, testing and troubleshooting, Francesca had done what she did best.

  Francesca Nefando, who had been hired to run analytic reports, was actually a world-class hacker. In a tight skirt and high heels.

  “Fine, Samuele, you say it happens.” Gio grimaced at the memory of the day he found out his proprietary DIMMs, dual inline memory modules, were being developed by a rival company with information only an insider could know. Samuele’s kindly eyes tried to offer some comfort. “But now that the industry press has found out, Grasstech could look weak in the field.”

  “That’s why the board of directors tell me that they want you to issue a statement to the media. Because you are taking over as the CEO, they see this as an opportunity to solidify your name as the trailblazer of the company. That alone will help deflect the breach.”

  “Me? We have public relations people for this.”

  “Yes. But put it in your own words, Gio. It will sound authentic and announce your personal style of leadership.”

  He watched Samuele’s mouth form words, but Gio was having a hard time actually listening. Because his blood was boiling thinking back to the strategy Francesca had designed to seduce him. Once he’d begun to trust her, she’d started to ask questions that required long nights of huddling together over a laptop in bed, her auburn hair almost sickly sweet from the gardenia-scented shampoo she used.

  Francesca had taught him a lesson he would never forget. He would never let anyone get that close to him again. But, weirdly, his thoughts meandered back to Luci this morning, so seemingly harmless as she stood on the balcony in her nightgown.

  “What should I say in the press release? That I let a woman get the best of me?”

  “No, Gio. Mull it over. You’ll come up with something.”

  “Samuele, before you go. Can you look for a room at a decent hotel for about three weeks?”

  Samuele regarded him quizzically.

  “One of our investors isn’t happy with where he’s staying.”

  Gio took a deep breath. He had a full schedule and a multibillion-dollar company to run. So why was he already looking forward to seeing Luci again tonight?

  * * *

  “Drop us here,” Gio instructed Viggo as the car approached the Piazza della Signoria. It had been ages since the piazza had been his destination. If he’d seen it at all during the past few years, it had been because he was merely crossing through to get to a meeting at an office or restaurant. Viggo let him and Luci out of the back seat.

  Gio had decided to take her out. They’d have dinner in one of the osterias whose piazza-facing patios would still be warm enough in the autumn evening.

  “Oh, my gosh.” Luci brought her hand over her mouth in genuine reverence as she took in the piazza. He could appreciate her sentiment, as it was one of Florence’s most dramatic sights. In fact, historically, it had been the meeting place for all of Tuscany.

  “There’s the Fontana di Neptuno!” The marble-and-bronze Fountain of Neptune. “I’ve seen it in pictures so many times, I can’t believe I’m finally here.”

  Luci’s enthusiasm lightened Gio’s mood after a long hard day of putting out administrative fire after fire in the remains of mistakes that Dante had made while he was at the helm. Mostly, though, he was still strategizing about the Francesca fiasco and its aftermath.

  Still, he reiterated to himself that one of his goals when returning to Florence was to slow his pace a little and to enjoy relaxing pursuits. He worked too much; even his father thought so. A night out on the town with pretty Luci was just what the doctor ordered. Even though he had sworn never to get close to a woman again, it was only one evening. Okay, there was last n
ight, too, but it was not as if he was going to devote his life to her.

  Although when he presented a bent elbow for her to slip her arm through, he felt an unfamiliar lump at the bottom of his throat when she did so.

  “Here is one of the fake Davids.” She pointed to the replica of Michelangelo’s masterpiece. “The original used to stand in this place but was moved to the Galleria dell’Accademia to protect it.”

  “You’ll want to visit there.”

  “There’s another replica of David in the Piazzale Michelangelo. The views of the city are supposed to be astounding from there.”

  “They are.”

  “And this is the Loggia dei Lanzi.” The outdoor gallery of sculptures in the piazza.

  “You’ve certainly studied up on the city. That way is the Uffizi Gallery—” he pointed a finger “—which, of course, you’ll want to explore.” One of the world’s finest museums.

  “Oh, yes.” Her squeeze on his arm sent pricks of energy through his muscles.

  “I can find a professional guide for you if you’d like.”

  “No. Thanks. I spend too much time already with guides and companions as it is.”

  “I take it you mean the children you teach? That’s a cute way of describing them.”

  “Right.” Luci’s voice rose. “It does seem like they are the ones leading the way most of the time.”

  At the restaurant he’d chosen, Gio asked the hostess to seat them outside facing the piazza. It was about as fine a night as could be with the dusk and the statues, Luci’s face aglow with the breadth of it all.

  “We’ll have the prosciutto with melon, the mushroom risotto and the grilled branzino,” he instructed the waiter. Gio was hungry so he ordered for them without consulting the menu.

  “Is that all right?” He turned to Luci.

  “Yes. Thank you for asking.”

  “And we’ll have a bottle of the Pallovana Frascati,” Gio finished the order.

  After the waiter returned with the Frascati, Luci asked, “You haven’t told me anything about your first day yet. How did everything go?”

  As they sipped their wine and took advantage of the superlative people-watching their vantage point on the piazza offered, he filled her in on reacquainting himself with staff and about some restructuring he was intending.

  “My biggest problem is how to handle the information about a hack we experienced recently when the design for a product was obtained and sold to a competitor.” The information about the hack was to soon be public knowledge, so he wasn’t disclosing any secrets by talking to Luci about it.

  “Has it been in the news?”

  “Not officially. I know there’s talk in the industry.”

  “Will you speak to the press about it?” That was exactly what Samuele had been urging this morning.

  “I suppose I ought to before trade gossips do.”

  “So, should you issue a press statement?”

  The waiter delivered plates with paper-thin slices of pink prosciutto draped across wedges of ripe orange melon.

  “Grazie.” Gio acknowledged the arrival and returned his attention to Luci.

  “It was my own personal security that was weak in order for the hack to have happened. I gave clearance to someone I shouldn’t have.” Gio didn’t want to tell Luci about Francesca specifically, so he kept it general.

  “You don’t want the company to appear compromised in the press,” Luci said with her fork dangling in the air.

  “Exactly. I’d like to think it was a grave mistake on my part but that, in general, our safeguards are very good. Nothing like that had ever happened before and hopefully never will again.”

  “Do you have any new products that are about to launch?”

  “Why do you ask?” The question came out sharply. But here it was. This young lady who called herself a teacher from Spain could be, right under his nose, trying to get proprietary information from him under the guise of dinner conversation. That was how these charmers worked, wasn’t it?

  “I’m sorry, did I offend you?”

  “Are you interested in computer science?” he baited, paying attention to every word.

  “Not especially.” She took a sip of her wine. “I was going to make a suggestion about your press release. Pardon me if I was being intrusive.”

  “Go on.” He rubbed his chin as he continued to study her.

  “What if you wrote a statement that wasn’t strictly about the hack but was a state of the company address now that you’ve taken over? Then you can mention the leak and what security measures you’re putting in place. But sandwich it in between news about the company’s latest accomplishments.”

  “That’s a great suggestion,” Gio exclaimed. He thought immediately of the achievements he would like to announce, and that in the context of a report on the company they wouldn’t come across as showboating. Indeed, his new peripheral component interconnect, PCI, was revolutionary.

  Gio toasted Luci. As they clinked their wineglasses together it was as if they touched each other, a powerful sensation that traveled from his fingertips all the way up his arm to his heart.

  They made it through the next two courses of their meal talking a mile a minute. Luci asked so many interesting questions about computers and listened patiently to techie mumbo jumbo that she surely didn’t understand. Gio didn’t reveal anything about his designs, and by the time dinner was over, his spy theory had lost steam. Luci was wonderful company.

  The conversation continued as they stood in the courtyard of the villa under the night sky. “The random access memory, or RAM, is temporary,” he finished the explanation he was giving her in the car.

  “Your work is interesting.”

  The scent of the flowers in bloom permeated the garden.

  Silence fell upon them.

  The air between them stilled.

  Her mood changed.

  She’d spent dinner asking him about work and had avoided talking about herself. He looked into her eyes to coax her on but she said nothing. She definitely harbored a secret, although he was now convinced it had nothing to do with him.

  “Something is wrong?”

  “Thank you again for your generosity.”

  It was as if the entire city was quietly holding its breath.

  “You didn’t tell me about your day. What sights did you see?”

  With her head slightly bowed, she peered up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m embarrassed to tell you that I got completely lost. I was planning to visit the Piazza della Repubblica, but I ended up just sort of circling in a big loop. It was all beautiful, but I didn’t see anything I had intended to.”

  Florence wasn’t the easiest city to maneuver if you didn’t know it, with streets jutting out from its many piazzas. Still, in this day and age, with all of the online resources and apps, a person should be able to find their way.

  “You didn’t use maps or tourist sites on your phone?”

  She waited a beat before admitting, “I don’t have a phone. I didn’t bring one on the trip.”

  “Bellissima, is that even safe?”

  “I wanted to unplug,” she quickly responded, “to truly be a wanderer without any trappings of real life. Besides...”

  “Yes?” he prompted. Unplugging wasn’t something he’d ever experienced, as his life revolved around being so very plugged in. Although it was something he needed to learn to do a little of.

  “I’m not sure I should have come to Florence at all.”

  Gio stood firm and pierced his eyes into hers. “I can tell that you’ve come to Florence to lose yourself. That you’re hiding something. Or hiding from something.”

  Luci scrunched her forehead. As if she was making a decision.

  Then she reached to her head to run her fingers through her blond hair. H
er hand moved farther and farther back until, with a tug, she lifted the blond hair completely off her head.

  It was a wig! And from under the wig an avalanche of long brown waves cascaded down far past her shoulders.

  “First of all, my name is not Luci. It’s Luciana. I am Her Royal Highness Princess Luciana de la Isla de Izerote.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “BRAVA.” GIO USED two fingers to mime tipping an imaginary hat toward Luci, or rather Princess Luciana. “That’s quite a coup, a princess in disguise.”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Try me,” he clipped. Luciana knew he would be upset to learn that she had pretended to be someone she wasn’t, the deception made so much worse by the burn of the company hack he’d spoken of. He was quite sensitive during dinner when she’d asked about his upcoming products, as if he was suspicious of her and had been all along.

  Now his jaw pulsed as he stood drilling into her with his big blue eyes, demanding an explanation.

  “You’ve been so kind to me, Gio,” she began constructing an apology. “I didn’t expect to have a problem with selling my jewels. Then those boys were harassing me on the street and you came to my aid. And now you’ve given me this beautiful evening.”

  “You have an interesting way of showing your appreciation,” he continued in a voice so low and tight she wasn’t sure how the sounds were even escaping his throat.

  Luciana fingered through the wig she held in her hand. The strands felt so fake despite how much she had liked wearing it. How silly it all seemed now, that she had tried to convince Gio she was a schoolteacher on a holiday. She supposed she had been trying that out on herself, a description of a woman and a life she could only imagine about.

  “I’m so sorry. When I was sharing what I’ve learned about handling the media, you knew a schoolteacher wouldn’t have any experience with that. I wanted to tell you the truth right then. I just didn’t know how. I was trying to keep my identity hidden so that I could have just one anonymous adventure. I’ve never been on my own.”