With a top recommendation, she would be set up to find a great restaurant in the South of France that would hire her. In time she could accrue enough savings to put down roots.
Gemma had dreamed of buying a little villa in Vence or Grasse with a garden and some fruit trees overlooking the Mediterranean. She’d won an award for her jam. Since her mother would be living with her, maybe they’d make their own and sell it locally. Anything could happen. Filippa had made her see that.
For now she would have to trust Vincenzo to keep their bargain. As she’d told her friend, she’d trusted Vincenzo in the past. It would be her own fault if she couldn’t remain strong and stay away from him.
* * *
Grateful for her friend’s advice, she woke up early the next morning and got busy house cleaning. When her mother and aunt returned from England, they’d find the place spotless. At four that afternoon, she left with her large suitcase and went down the steps to her car parked in the alley. It was best her cousin didn’t know where she was going until Gemma had told her mother everything first.
When she reached Sopri, she called on the padrona di casa and told her she would like to stay at the pensione for a three-month period because she’d be working at the new hotel. Would that be possible?
The older woman couldn’t have been more delighted and they settled on a good price. “You’ll be working for the duca. Any arrangement you want is fine.” On that note she let Gemma into the room she’d had before with a huge smile. Such was Vincenzo’s effect on every female, young or old.
Gemma got settled in and pulled out her laptop. She needed to send emails to London and Barcelona and thank them for setting up appointments with her. In her note she told them she was sorry but she’d found another position. If by any chance it didn’t work out at the castello, she wondered if they would allow her to reapply?
Once that was done, she got ready for bed and lay back against the pillows. Tomorrow morning she’d be meeting with Signor Donati at nine for the orientation meeting. The newly hired kitchen staff would also be present. Being part of a hotel, the restaurant would serve meals throughout the day and evening as well as provide room service. Such organization required a genius at the head.
Vincenzo.
Because he was the one who’d masterminded everything, he would always have input. She expected that. Naturally they’d see each other coming and going, much the same as they’d done ten years earlier. But this time everything would be different. In order to survive, she was forced to put on her armor and leave the sweet innocence of their youthful love in the past.
* * *
After confiding in Dimi the evening before, Vincenzo had worked through the night on his personal business affairs here in Italy. Establishing Nistri Technologies in the south of the country consumed a lot of his spare time, but that was good. He existed on coffee, trying not to think about what would happen if Gemma didn’t show up today. He hadn’t told the guys anything, not wanting to alarm them.
His cousin didn’t have great hopes where Gemma was concerned. She was an unknown entity at this point. Vincenzo didn’t like hearing Dimi’s opinion but appreciated that his was the voice of reason.
After a shower and shave, he put on a business suit and tie before leaving his tower room to go downstairs. His watch said it was ten to nine, and already the ballroom appeared full. But as he looked around, his worst nightmare was confirmed, because Gemma was nowhere in sight.
His fear that she’d left Florence and he’d never see her again came close to paralyzing him, but for the guys’ sake, he had to pull himself together. He’d wanted to hire security to keep an eye on her but had resisted the impulse. That’s what his father had done to him and Dimi. He knew Gemma had already accused him in her heart of being like his father. He didn’t dare make that mistake.
At their first break in the morning schedule, Vincenzo would take his partners aside and give them the bad news. While they ran the next segment without him, he would have to go to his office and contact their other applicants. If none of them were available, there was more work to do.
A blackness had descended on Vincenzo as he joined Takis in front of their awaiting audience. He was on the verge of asking him about Cesare when the Sicilian entered through the tall double doors. Gemma followed him in. At the first sight of her, Vincenzo’s heart kicked him in the ribs so hard he almost moaned aloud. Somehow she’d managed to put aside her hurt and anger enough to accept his proposition.
She’d come dressed in a fabulous peach-colored suit. It was a miracle he had any breath left. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she found a chair on the end of a row halfway toward the front. Vincenzo was still in a state of shock when Takis stood up with the microphone in hand.
“Welcome, everyone! Take a look around. The success of the new Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi is in your hands. By the end of the day it’s our hope you’ll feel like family. It’s the only way our enterprise will work.”
Vincenzo had hoped everyone they’d hired would feel like family. After all the work he and his partners had done over the last six months, he couldn’t help but be proud of what they’d accomplished so far.
He was happy that he’d asked the guys to employ as many local staff as possible, especially those who hadn’t been able to find work lately. It was a way to give back to the community that had been harmed because his father and uncle had been such bad people.
For a long time he’d been worried that he’d involved his friends in a project that could have professional as well as personal repercussions if things didn’t go well. But Gemma’s appearance a minute go went a long way to help calm some of those fears. With both of them together again in the same room, he felt an odd sense of rightness.
“At your interviews, you were given a small history of the castello. For as long as you work here, guests will ask you repeatedly about this iconic hundred-years-old structure. As you’ve learned, it was the home of the first Duca di Lombardi of the house of Gagliardi in the eighteen hundreds.
“Today I’m honored to introduce one of the owners and chief operating officer for the estate, security and publicity, Vincenzo Nistri Gagliardi, seated on my right.”
A collective sound of surprise was followed by resounding applause that filled the room. With the media calling for information at this point, Vincenzo had given Takis permission to offer public disclosure of their three-owner enterprise. He’d felt it was time he embraced his name again. But there’d be no mention of the family title.
“I’m Takis Manolis, one of the owners and general manager of the hotel. On my left is Cesare Donati, the other owner and general manager for the restaurant.” More clapping ensued.
Takis finished talking and handed Vincenzo the mic.
Vincenzo only intended to say a few words that would put the floating rumors to rest. “Some of you may know this was my home for the first eighteen years of my life. Though I’ve spent the last ten years in New York City, my roots are here.”
The girl who made it my own private heaven is seated among you.
“My business partners and I hope this will become a desired destination for locals and tourists from around the globe. If we all work together, I know it will be a great success. Thank you.”
This time everyone got to their feet and kept clapping. He handed the mic to Cesare and sat down.
His friend took over the reins. When the noise subsided, he introduced their head chef, Monsieur Maurice Troudeau. Then he turned to Gemma.
“In the words of Schiaparelli, ‘a good cook is like a sorceress who dispenses