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Roman Encounter

Page 7

by Lily Zante


  Walking down the hallway, he stopped and knocked on the door to Emilio’s training room. When he strolled in, Emilio was putting his jacket on.

  “Hey,” said Christian.

  “Hey, I’m running late. Taking the Belgians out for lunch. Looking after them,” he sighed, as if the burden were too great.

  “I’ll walk out with you.” They walked towards the reception area. “So, what happened last night?”

  “We stayed at the bar until midnight.”

  “No, I meant with the sales guys.”

  “It went well. You know how it is. They’re hoping for another huge order.”

  “But did you mention anything about the, you know.” Even now, he felt it difficult to ask anyone for a favor.

  “The what?”

  “You said you would have a word with the sales guys about the vacancy, remember? You said you’d put in a word for me.”

  “Right, right” Emilio tugged at the sleeves of his shirt and stopped. “That’s right. I told them you were interested in the sales vacancy, and that you knew the software inside out and that I highly recommended you. Email Nesta your résumé and make it good. It needs to stand out.”

  “Stand out? My résumé is shit hot.”

  “The guy gets a ton of résumés every week. Nesta likes you and he thinks you’ve got the right personality for the job, the bullshit factor, as they say.” Emilio laughed and Christian slapped him on the back in jest. “Just make it stand out, okay?”

  Christian’s face broke out into a smile. “Okay.” Francis Nesta was the head of sales and Christian had spoken to him on a few occasions. Nice guy. He felt confident about the Fordana sales job and knew it would be a good option as a backup if any of his external applications failed.

  “They’re going to start interviewing in the next few weeks, and they’re looking both internally and externally. If he likes what he sees, he’ll call you in right away, so be ready.”

  Christian had a good feeling about this. As yet, he still hadn’t heard back about the interview yesterday morning, but having more fingers in more pies was a good strategy. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Emilio punched him lightly on the shoulder then pushed through the door, and left.

  Update his resumé?

  Prettying up Word documents wasn’t his strong suite. Performing well at interviews was and he knew he could sell himself easily. All he had to do was to get his foot in the door and once he convinced Nesta to give him a try, the interview would be a piece of cake.

  The way he saw it, Nesta would be stupid to look outside the company for a sales guy to train. Why would he look elsewhere when he had a perfect candidate within the same company? Christian was the right man for the job and knew the software better than all the salespeople, probably better than all the other trainers, barring Emilio.

  Returning to his room eager and pumped up, he decided to forego lunch and make a start on his resumé. He didn’t have long before the afternoon session started.

  The afternoon flew by and by the end of day two, they were on schedule, following along the course nicely. But Christian sensed that Gina was avoiding him. It was something he wasn't used to, something he hadn't had to deal with before and he wondered why it bothered him.

  Was she embarrassed because he’d leant her money? It was hard to figure out what was going on in that head of hers because the woman had hidden depths, and not in a good way. She could be hard work and he could never work out where he stood with her.

  Rachele, on the other hand, was as transparent as a freshly washed window. He felt a stirring in his loins just thinking about her and their casual arrangement. It was supposed to be mutually beneficial, but her going away on business for so long was giving him grief.

  A rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t had any lunch, but he was eager get his resumé done and emailed to Nesta by the end of the day. When the class ended, he got himself a cup of coffee to tide him over while he worked.

  When he returned to his room, the first thing he saw was Gina’s small frame in front of her computer. Did this woman not have anything better to do with her time? She looked up as he walked in.

  “I thought you’d left for the day.” She sounded disappointed that he was back.

  “I forgot to have lunch.” He placed his coffee cup on his desk. “What are you doing here again? Are you stuck on something?”

  She seemed to hesitate before answering. “Not really. I just wanted to go over a few things we covered earlier.”

  “What are you stuck on?”

  “Ummm…” She stared down at her notes. “Some of the project variables.”

  He sensed a wariness about her that hadn’t been there before.

  “If you need help I can—”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

  Suit yourself. She obviously didn’t want or need his help. He strode over to his desk, sat down and let out an exhale. He didn’t have time to worry about her quirks. He had better things to do. It would take one hour, probably less, to fix his resumé, and then he could go home and hit the gym. Exercise helped take the edge off the frustration he felt.

  It needed sprucing up, he decided, and started typing, adding all the certifications he had earned and the sales leads he’d worked on occasionally with the other salesmen.

  When it was done, he read it through one final time. Slapping his hand on the back of his neck, he was satisfied. It was perfect. He could almost see it happening before his very eyes—an interview, followed by an offer letter.

  Smiling to himself, he looked up and glanced across at Gina, oddly, at the exact same time that she looked at him. Their gazes locked for the briefest of seconds, and he would have given anything to see inside that head of hers. For sure, she was wired differently to the women he was used to. The difference between her and Rachele couldn't have been more defined.

  “How come,” she cleared her throat. “How come you’re working so late?”

  “I updated my résumé.” He stared at his computer screen in admiration. “And it looks pretty damn good, if I say so myself.”

  He heard the scrape of a chair against the floor as she got up and walked over. “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Mind if I make some suggestions?”

  He was intrigued. How could she make this better? “Let’s hear them.”

  “This is only a suggestion, but I think it might stand out more if you bolded your details.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, not sure whether he agreed with her, but he made the change anyway.

  “And maybe if you split up your experience, and your accreditations, and had bullet points to list them…”

  “Bullet points?”

  “You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “And it looks good as it is, but there’s not a lot of white space.”

  “White space?”

  “So that it’s easier to read.”

  “Hmmm.” He frowned. “You see a lot of résumés, do you?”

  “I’ve seen a fair few,” she replied. “My boss was away a lot when we were recruiting, and he left me in charge of the first round. I carried out the initial interviews for our recent hires.”

  Hmm. He considered it. Maybe she knew what she was talking about.

  “The résumés that were nicely formatted and laid out clearly, the ones which were easy on the eye, were the ones that got my attention.”

  “You seem to know what you’re talking about.” He rose to standing and moved out of the way. “How about you take a look and make those changes for me?” It would take him longer, and she seemed to know what layout would look good for his resumé. He wanted the edge, anything to make him stand out, and Gina talked as if she could give him that edge.

  “Okay.” Her cheeks flamed pink again, something he’d noticed earlier.

  “Are you hot?” he asked.

  “What? No.” Her tone was indignant
, and her cheeks turned a deeper shade pink.

  “I can turn on the AC if you like.”

  “I’m fine.” That was what she always said, even after the robbery had happened, she had insisted that she was fine. Rachele would have clung to him and not let go. She would have fallen apart like tissue paper. Gina seemed to be made out of titanium.

  She typed away, and he felt useless standing around doing nothing. Instead, he wiped down his whiteboard and walked around the classroom, checking that all the PCs were switched off. With nothing else to do, he checked his cell phone for messages.

  “I’m almost done,” she called out, a while later.

  “Okay.”

  Then, “Come and take a look.”

  He walked over and stared at the screen. It looked nothing like the résumé he’d started off with.

  “It looks much cleaner,” he agreed.

  “Can you see there’s more white space and it’s easier to read? She moved the chair back as he peered over her shoulder. The scent of flowers wafted over to him. Her scent. And it went straight to his head. He took another deep inhale.

  “I didn’t modify anything; I just formatted it and moved the text around.” She stared at the screen as if waiting for him to say something, but he was silent, in another place. He’d been transported to a field of flowers by her scent.

  “It looks much better,” he said, clearing his throat. He could see that all of his work experience and qualifications, his personal and business details were laid out in easy-to-read sections. “Thank you for this,” he said, genuinely appreciative of her help.

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled, and her eyes lit up.

  “It looks professional.”

  “It needs to.”

  They smiled.

  “Do you have plans for this evening?” He felt indebted to her. Every little thing mattered, and Gina had given him a fighting chance. He suddenly felt the urge to make it up to her. And especially after yesterday, he didn’t like the idea of her wandering around Rome alone. The city was safe, most of the time, and she’d just been unlucky, but she was small and vulnerable, and he felt protective about her.

  “Plans?” He seemed to have caught her off guard. “Uh, yes.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I was thinking of maybe going to the Colosseum.”

  “Great idea.” He reached for his jacket and slipped it on. “I’ll give you a personal tour.”

  She blushed. She did that a lot. “Not as in personal,” he explained, in case she misinterpreted what he meant.

  “No, of course not.”

  “But I know it well, and I know of the nice places around there, if you wanted to eat. What do you think?”

  “I think it sounds like a good idea.”

  Chapter 13

  “There are cats everywhere!”

  “They’ve always been here,” Christian explained.

  “Who feeds them?” She asked, making a face and worrying about their well-being.

  He snorted. “Many people. Don’t worry about the cats. They probably eat better than you or me.”

  “It feels spooky around here.” She stared around the ruins of the half crumbling landmark, noting the weeds climbing through nooks and crannies, and the cats prowling around as if they owned the place. She tried to imagine the gladiators in battle, the blood and glory, and the poor people and animals who had been forced to take part. She flinched involuntarily.

  “Are you scared?” Christian asked, his gaze sweeping over her face.

  “Scared? No.” She stepped away. “But this place is kind of creepy. Knowing what happened here, it has a history of sadness and misery.”

  He stepped closer to her, his eyes twinkling. “You let me know when you get really scared.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “You wouldn’t own up to it even if you were.”

  “I’m not a scaredy cat. I can take care of myself,” she asserted.

  “I can see that.”

  If only he knew. The encounter the other night had shaken her, more than she had let on. Having never experienced anything like it before, it had taken a while for her to calm down enough to go to sleep. What she remembered, the thing that made it all better, the thing she would never own up to, was how safe she felt when Christian had put his arms around her. Compared to Davide, who was thin, and slight, Christian was more muscle and strength than she had ever had the pleasure of putting her arms around.

  Either her split with Davide was making her lonely, or this City was playing with her emotions, but spending her evenings with this man was a big departure from her usual day-to-day existence and she was determined to make the most of every minute.

  Dusk was falling and they had been ambling around the ancient ruins for over an hour, talking about the course and the people in it, of their work. Light things. Nothing heavy.

  Her initial wariness of being around Christian had faded the minute she fixed his resumé. Being of service and doing something useful were her strong points, and she had risen to the challenge. And him now accompanying her to the Colosseum seemed like a perfect way to end the day. The more time she spent with him, the more she found herself enjoying his company. It was an intriguing state of affairs, given that they seemed to be very different personalities.

  Now she understood why the women students had been all over Christian during the first course she attended. She hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t really noticed the attraction because her mind had been on Davide then.

  Now, his image was fast fading from her memory.

  Letting this tall and muscular guide show her around the city was the best remedy for her bruised heart. The more time she spent away from her normal environment, the more she was convinced that moving to a new place and starting over were the things she needed.

  “Do you want to walk around again?” he asked. But she’d seen enough of the Colosseum. She shook her head. “I’m actually feeling hungry.” As if on cue, her stomach made a noise like a wolf growling.

  “Do you have to be someplace?” She’d noticed that he kept looking at his watch.

  “Me?” He looked up and shook his head, a little too vigorously. “No. I’m keeping track of the time. Making sure we don’t get back too late. I can’t have you getting hurt again.”

  His words warmed her, but she had to be careful not to read too much into them, otherwise her mind would wander to unholy places, as her mother often told her. Still, it was good to know that he had a caring side to him.

  “I wasn’t sure if you needed to meet your girlfriend.” It wouldn’t have surprised her if he had arranged to meet her later, and fit Gina into his evening quickly as a way of thanking her for helping spruce up his resumé. A man like him couldn’t be single.

  “Girlfriend?” he asked, surprised. “No, I don’t need to meet my girlfriend because if I did, I wouldn’t have offered to come along with you, and,” he looked at her curiously, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I don’t.”

  His words ignited her hopes. “Oh.” She sounded calm and normal but inside her nerves were doing the bachata. “Okay, well. I don’t have any other plans either.”

  He scratched his chin. “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe get something to eat?”

  “With me?”

  She frowned. “Well, why not?”

  “You sure?”

  Having walked around everywhere the last thing she wanted was another takeout pizza. “Could we sit down and eat?”

  He looked startled. “You want to sit down?”

  “If you want.”

  “If I want? What do you want?” he asked.

  “I’m starving, and what I want would be a nice place to eat in.”

  “Follow me.”

  As far as meals went, and given the strange exchange they’d had before coming here, dinner went well. They had appetizers, too, and a bottle of wine, and the
best home cooked pasta.

  Halfway through the meal Christian’s cell phone rang and when he fished it out of his jacket pocket, he seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering it.

  Gina’s ears pricked up.

  “Hey,” His voice was soft and low, the kind of voice a man would have for a woman who meant something to him. “When?”

  She pretended to play around with the food in her plate. She tried not to listen, but it was impossible not to when she was sitting directly opposite him.

  “Out with friends.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “You are?” he asked, sounding uncomfortable. Then he got up, signaling to her that he was going to take the call outside, and disappeared.

  She stabbed her ravioli square viciously. This was why he’d been looking at his watch. It sounded to her that he had other plans. As if he was killing time while he waited for his lover to call him. In an instant, she lost her appetite, and left the last quarter of her food untouched. Pushing the fork away, she lifted her wineglass and took a big sip.

  Glancing around the restaurant, she stared at the other diners and felt completely miserable. The tables were filled; some were couples and some were groups of friends. She wondered if anyone might have mistaken her and Christian for a couple. She glanced out at the door of the restaurant and saw him pacing around outside.

  It was a girlfriend on the phone with him. It had to be. A lover, or maybe even a wife. A vise seemed to clamp down on her chest. He didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean he might not be married. Some men didn’t wear rings. Her thoughts started to run away with her and in no time at all, Christian had returned.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, slipping his mighty frame into the chair.

  “That’s okay,” she smiled brightly, falsely.

  “Something wrong with your ravioli?” he asked, so obviously not referring to the phone call.

  “I’m full,” she said. “But the food was amazing.” She watched him carefully, her mind ablaze with images of what his lover might look like. A modelesque figure, she imagined. Tall, and slim and beautiful. All at once she felt inconsequential. Inferior. Not worthy.

 

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