by Lily Zante
“Where are you going?” Christian asked.
“Out with the sales boys on a hot lead.” It happened when one of the salesmen who didn’t know shit about the project management software they were selling, couldn’t be trusted to answer the questions potential clients had for them. Especially if it was, as Emilio had said, ‘a hot lead’, a company looking to spend crazy money. That was when the salesmen asked one of the trainers to come along with them so that they didn’t look so stupid. Emilio was the one they always wanted on account of him being top dog. Christian didn’t like this legacy treatment, especially when he believed that he knew almost as much as Emilio did, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“We’re bound to go for drinks afterwards and I’ll find out what I can about that vacancy. Deal?”
“Deal,” agreed Christian. “I’ll babysit for you but don’t be too late.”
“I won’t.” Emilio disappeared leaving Christian to read his paper in peace. He took another bite out of his panini then unscrewed the plastic cap of his bottled water. He was about to put it to his lips when the door opened again.
“Now what?” he snapped, expecting it to be Emilio again, asking another favor.
But it was that Gina woman, with the headband. Again.
“Sorry.” She hovered around the door. “I was expecting the room to be empty.”
“Why’s that?” He took a gulp of water.
She shrugged.
He eased up a little. No need to vent his frustration on this woman. The agency might call him later. “Have you had your lunch already?” Because she must have wolfed it down. Usually, students took a full hour. This woman had come back in less than half that time.
“Yes. But the rest of the class is still there. Not everyone’s finished.”
“Don’t you have something else to do?” He was more curious than anything else.
“Does it bother you that I’m here?”
He sat up, startled by her response and stilled his hand on the plastic cap of the bottle.
“No.” He hadn’t meant anything by it but given their earlier exchange, he could see how she would have interpreted his words in the wrong light. The part he didn’t understand was that they had only covered an introduction to the course this morning. The content wasn’t heavy, that would come later, and here she was again, raring to go over her notes as opposed to walking around the city? If this was as exciting as her life got, he felt sorry for her.
“Would it be okay for me to go through my notes?
“Be my guest.”
She walked in, not looking at him and returned to her desk as he went back to his newspaper, every once in a while his gaze skirting over to Gina, but she didn’t seem bothered by the fact he was in there. She never once looked his way.
“You were here before, weren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I thought as much.” He scrunched up the brown paper in which his panini had been and slam dunked it into the waste paper bin. She gave him the kind of smile one reserved for an elderly uncle with bad breath. Her mouth pursed together into a tight line, and he could almost sense her willing for him to finish.
“You want to get on with your work, don’t you?” He asked. He, who normally had no time to make small talk with students, was now getting the cold treatment from this woman.
“I want to make sure I understand it all.”
“Go ahead.” He got up, wiping his hands on the napkin and walking towards her. “It’s just that most people who come here are glad to get a few days away from work. A week here is like a paid vacation for them. The training course is secondary.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said. “But I’m here to learn as well.”
“Then I’d better leave you to it.” He took the heavy hint and walked away. Grabbing his newspaper, he left the room, and headed towards the men’s room.
Chapter 7
“It’s in the ‘Documents’ folder, on the network. Look under Admin, under March Budgets.”
“Ahh. I see it now. Thanks.” Nico sounded relieved. He should have known where they kept their forms and invoices on the company’s network but he was, as usual, probably drowning under a lot of things. Come to think of it, it shouldn’t have surprised her that he had forgotten, as he had been hands off for most of the last six months with so many other things going on in his personal life. “It was driving me mad trying to find them.”
“Did you ask the others?” Ines and Demetrio should have known. Gina had made sure the company’s handbook was always updated. This was a detailed compendium of everything needed for the day-to-day running of the hotel. Everything was in it.
“It was quicker to pick up the phone and ask you. Thanks.” He hung up. Gina giggled. This was typical of Nico, but it worried her that he would struggle to cope once she left. She had been looking online for hotel management jobs to apply to, but each time it came to filling out an application, she started to doubt herself even though, when she read the job description, it listed the things she already did. She was qualified for the position, even though deep down she felt a fraud. It didn’t help that Demetrio, with his college degree, seemed to always want to one-up her. She didn’t have a college degree, but she had good old-fashioned commonsense and a willingness to work hard, to dive right into things and get on with it.
It wasn’t her job that was the problem. It was the perception she had of herself. Maybe she was looking at it all wrong. Maybe she needed some of Demetrio’s boastfulness. The jobs in Rome were paying slightly less than what she was currently earning. But she wasn’t moving for the money. She was making her escape for a freer life on her own terms.
It was all so confusing.
She had a couple more questions to go through, and sat at her desk trying to concentrate. Everyone else had left about half an hour ago, at the end of the lesson. She had no intention of staying too long.
“You’re still here?” She knew that voice well by now. It grated on her, even though a voice that rich and that deep shouldn’t have. It was as annoying as the sound of nails scratching on a blackboard.
Christian Russo stood at the door, giving her a look she couldn’t decipher. She blushed in answer, knowing that her being here, again, must have looked desperate. Nobody would understand her need to pass the online test on Friday. She owed it not only to herself, but to Nico as well.
“I wanted to go over my—”
“I understand,” he said, holding up his hand as if to halt the flow of words from her mouth. Still, she couldn’t help but notice the definition of his arm muscles straining against the cotton fabric of his shirt. “You want to make sure you get this? That it sinks in,” he said, his eyebrows wiggling. “Don’t you ever let up?”
“Let up?”
“Take a break? Don’t you want to explore the city?” He waved his arm around the classroom. “I know it’s not much compared to Verona—”
“I’m exploring later,” she retorted. But he wouldn’t understand. He didn’t understand—the pressure, her life and what she was up against. “You said tomorrow the exercises were going to get more difficult, and so I wanted to make sure I—” Her voice trailed off as she realized she sounded like an eager-to-please student, not a woman in her 30s. He probably thought she was being ridiculous.
“I know. But you were here in the morning, and at lunchtime and now. Don’t you get on with the other students?”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Did he see her as a social misfit? “I get on fine with them.”
“I find it hard to understand why you prefer being in front of your computer when you should be—” he shook his head, “Could be doing other things. All of your peers are probably out enjoying the sights and glad to be away from work. You seem to be coming here to work.”
“Why are you here?” Her curiosity prompted her to ask him; it wasn’t only a tactic for deflecting interest away from her.
“I have some preparation to do for to
morrow’s lesson and some other matters to tend to.”
“I won’t disturb you. I promise.” She only needed to go through the last few exercises and then she would leave. Her colleagues, a friendly group, were going to go for dinner at 8pm and wander around the city. Someone had mentioned visiting the Pantheon and the Roman Forum. She wasn’t keen to spend all evening with them having spent all day with them.
She had her own itinerary.
The Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain. The Piazza Navona and Ponte Sant’Angelo. The good thing about being with others was that she would be distracted and wouldn’t waste time thinking about Davide. There were still moments when she found herself wondering why he had split up with her, and why she hadn’t sensed his unhappiness earlier on in the relationship. Even this morning she checked her cell for texts and phone calls from him. But there was nothing. There had been nothing since that day.
~~
With his preparation complete for tomorrow’s lesson and everything set for the morning, it was time to meet Clara and Lucas in the lobby and take them to Trussardi.
He scowled, feeling a stiffness along his neck, and cursed under his breath. He so was not in the mood for taking two strangers out. They weren’t complete strangers, but they were new recruits in the office in Brussels and, once they returned to their place of work, chances were slim that he would ever see them again—especially as he was certain that he would have a new job lined up soon.
It would only require two hours of his life, according to Emilio. He could do two hours, and in return, Emilio would have intel on the sales job.
He got up, lifted his jacket from the hanger and slipped it on.
As he waited for his computer to power down, he noticed Gina getting up. She was like a mouse, as timid as and as quiet as, although he had seen her chatting away to the other students in the classroom.
She was average looking, he decided, wearing a boring, black, knee-length skirt, a sensible blouse and a short jacket. She had dressed as if she was at work. Most people did. But, what the heck did it matter?
An idea instantly popped into his head, lighting him up like a spark of genius. If she came along, she could entertain the other two, and it would be good to get her head out of the computer screen. She didn’t look as if she had any better options, and he didn’t want to be solely responsible for ensuring that the other two had a good time. Though looking at Gina, Christian wasn’t sure that she would know what a good time was even if it hit her in the face.
“Are you free?” he asked.
She looked at him suspiciously. “Free for what?”
“To have some fun.”
“Fun?” She echoed, as if he’d asked her to go on a mission to Mars.
“Cocktails and company. Do you think you could handle it?”
Her eyebrow lifted slowly, and he saw that he’d made an impression on that pert little face of hers. “Handle it? I can handle most things that come my way. What did you have in mind?”
He cocked his head to one side as if he were seeing her with new eyes. She was feisty and not at all like he had initially expected. She surprised him, and not many women did.
“For you to have a good time.”
If ever there was a face to be made for holding back from saying something, Gina wore that face right now. She didn’t flinch or move a muscle.
“Come on,” he coaxed gently, at once eager to see how she would fare at the crowded bar which would be thumping with music until the early hours of the morning. If Emilio was late getting back, he could even leave the Belgians with Gina. “I promise it will be more interesting than the stuff you’ve been looking at today. I’ll introduce you to our people from Brussels.”
“Why do I need to meet them?”
“You don’t,” he replied slowly, his hand sliding into the pocket of his pants. He’d envisioned a simple yes or no from her. It was an easy enough decision, not a debate. “You’ve worked hard all day. You deserve some fun.”
“Oh,” she said, bobbing her head as if she finally understood. “I deserve some fun?” She lifted her fingers to her hair, twiddling a lock around her fingers.
“You’d be doing me a favor.” He wasn’t used to pleading with women, and it surprised him to realize that he now was. “I’m supposed to be keeping them entertained for a few hours.”
Christ, if it took her this damn long to make a decision, it was obvious she was too much hard work. “Never mind,” he said, picking up his briefcase.
“I’ll come.”
“What?” He almost dropped his briefcase.
“I’ll come.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Definitely.”
It was going to be an interesting evening.
Chapter 8
They were on their second jug of cocktails even though Gina was still on her first glass of lemonade. He couldn’t get her to make the most of happy hour where cocktails were half price from five until eight. Tightly packed tables were scattered all around them on the raised floor, looking down at the dance area below. The air was stifling hot, and everything felt sweaty. Trussardi was always dark and dingy. Christian hated it.
There were far better places in Rome. Bars with tables outside and plenty of fresh air but Emilio liked this sleazy place the most. Still, the Belgians looked happy.
“I like this place,” Lucas drawled with a happy smile on his face. Christian could see why he was happy. As usual, the bar was full of women in stringy tops, short skirts and shorts. He doubted that Lucas would have the balls to go up to any of these women and make his move.
“Good, because you’re going to be here for most of the evening.” Christian looked around. The men were in standard figure-hugging tees, and jeans, with a smattering of the after-work contingent, people such as himself, suited to the hilt, and feeling hot and sweaty.
The stench of alcohol and salty nachos permeated the air and he knew he would have to get his Armani suit dry-cleaned tomorrow.
It was difficult to talk with the music so loud, so conversation was out of the question. Clara was busy texting someone and Gina looked uncomfortable, sitting there quietly, sipping from her glass. He felt a stab of guilt for bringing her here and was about to talk to her when Lucas leaned towards her and said something.
“How long have you worked here?” Clara asked, moving closer to him and almost talking directly into his ear.
Too long. “One year.”
“One year? Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“I bet you know the software inside out.”
“You’d hope so.”
She looked confused.
“I do,” he said, reassuring her.
“I’ve only been with the company a month.” She moved closer to his ear again, raising her voice as the music grew louder. “But this trip to Rome has been the highlight so far.”
“Is this your first time in Italy?”
“First time.”
She raised her arm and ran her hand through her hair, almost hitting his arm with her elbow. “Sorry,” she squealed, rubbing her bicep.
“It didn’t hurt.”
She squeezed his bicep. “I bet it didn’t.”
He wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or a come on. Either way, that was a strange comment given that he barely knew her. Before he could put a reply together, she stared at the dance floor. “Salsa classes!” she cried excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to learn.”
He looked down to see a group of people converging on the dance floor in lines facing one another. A man and a woman, with microphone headsets attached to their ears, were demonstrating something at the front.
“What the hell?” They were having dance classes tonight?
“Bachata,” Lucas yelled.
“What?” Christian cupped his hand to his ear.
“Bachata. Emilio said they sometimes have salsa or bachata classes on some
nights”
Christian narrowed his eyes to slits. That son of a bitch, Emilio. If he’d known, he would never have agreed to babysit tonight.
“Let’s go.” Clara shot to her feet, her fingers pawing at his bicep again.
Ignoring her, he turned to Lucas. “Go on, Lucas,” he said. He was so left-footed, he wasn’t going to get up and make a fool of himself. To his surprise, Lucas sprang to his feet and disappeared with Clara.
Christian turned to Gina but she seemed closed off and uneasy, as if she’d rather be any place other than this, that he didn’t even bother asking her. Instead, he turned and watched the crowd below, and caught sight of Clara and Lucas on the dance floor.
“1, 2, 3, tap, 5, 6, 7, tap,” the instructor yelled, and as the music suddenly broke out, the crowd obeyed, and moved to the beat accordingly.
“Roll your hips! Ladies, you do a figure of 8, like this!” And his partner rolled her hips in a figure of 8.
Christian looked away.
Beads of sweat sprang up around the back of his neck. He pulled out his cellphone and started to check for messages, then ended up replying to a few unanswered text messages. By the time he next looked up, Gina had disappeared and was nowhere in sight. He looked over to the dance floor and nearly had a shock to find Gina dancing with Lucas. Surprisingly, she had rhythm, too, and unlike Lucas, she didn’t look like an idiot.
He got back to his messages, knowing that time would fly faster if he was busy.
“Your turn!” A female voice shrieked directly into his ear. He looked up in a fit of annoyance. “You can’t sit here and not join in,” said Clara, obviously more than 2 glasses happy on Margaritas.
A tap on his arm made him turn. “I’ll keep an eye on our table.” Lucas had returned and now he had no excuse.
Begrudgingly, he followed Clara to the dance floor, noting the way the crowds parted as his hulking frame cleared a line through them. The music turned louder and the crowd moved to the rhythm, holding hands, pushing and pulling, shuffling their feet. Clara looked to be in her element and Gina? He was shocked to discover she was dancing with a complete stranger.