He swallowed, focused. The effort to answer was almost too much. Words were there, but dredging them to his mouth, saying them—what was the point?
He stared ahead.
So many people. His mother, abroad, relying on him. David—long-serving and loyal. All the employees of the bank. A whole endless stream of people who needed him to keep going. And now his baby—his child. And the woman who had lit a fire in him that he’d thought dead, and then left him cold in his bed before the sun had risen. The woman he was going to be tied to for years and years to come...
‘Indeed. It looks like they’re having the time of their lives.’ Slowly he managed to whisper the words from his dry and dusty throat.
‘You were a sportsman once—is that right?’ Augusto asked, fixing him once again with his bright-eyed stare. ‘There was talk of you going professional. You weren’t always going to follow your father into banking?’
Matteo frowned. How did he know that? He must have done his homework. The old fox was as wily as his reputation. This was an interview, right enough. The game was still on.
‘I was a rugby player. But it’s been a long time since I played.’
‘But you are quite sure that it’s banking that is your passion now? Your world? You cannot lead well in any field without feeling passion. Otherwise you’ll only ever be a manager.’
From the corner of his eye Matteo looked at Augusto’s crinkled skin, the liver spotted hands, the sharp, inquisitive eyes.
How did he know? How was this old man he barely knew able to say words that cut to the core of who he was? How could he see the gnawing worry that he just didn’t care enough and that was why the bank had never fully recovered?
Matteo fixed his gaze to the bunting fluttering in the evening breeze. He could not look round. He could not even speak. He couldn’t trust himself.
Augusto spoke on. ‘Because we both know that the person who takes my bank on will be more than that. I need someone who believes in what they do—not just someone who’d be going through the motions. I have no time for that.’
The moment was here. Matteo could feel it. Time was waiting, and from this moment all would slide along one path or another. He had been given the choice. It was up to him now to shake his head and walk away or step forward.
‘With every breath in my body I want to make Rossini into the bank it should have been. And I am convinced that our two brands are unique in what we offer. What I want is to talk it over with you.’
The old man’s penetrating stare was deep and long, and Matteo battled to keep his raging emotions under control as he gazed back. He would not lose yet. He readied himself to keep going—to say whatever it took to convince him to give him a chance.
Finally Augusto nodded. ‘We’d like that too. Come to the Lake House. In a fortnight.’
The heaviest weight fell from his shoulders—so hard he almost slumped in relief.
‘And bring your lovely young lady. It’s important that we meet her too. My dear, I think we’ve spent enough time with the youngsters for one evening. Shall we?’ said Augusto, lending his wife his arm.
‘It will be our very great pleasure,’ Matteo replied. ‘I’ll tell her straight away.’
‘We’re old-fashioned, though. You’re not married yet, so please don’t be assuming any privileges under my roof.’
Matteo smiled and shook the old man’s hand as warmly as his chilled face and frozen heart would allow.
Marriage...
Pregnancy...
This whole situation was unravelling faster than he could ever have thought possible. Almost out of his grasp. Almost lost.
But not quite. Not yet. All he had to do was convince Ruby to play along.
He watched the Arturos settle into their car and drive away. Then he turned on his heel. He had business to get on with.
CHAPTER TEN
IT HAD TO BE DONE. There had been no other way. She’d tried to call—lifted the phone a hundred times. But she simply hadn’t been able to get the words out of her mouth to say so much as his name to the elite-sounding voice that had answered at Banca Casa di Rossini.
What if he wouldn’t take her call? What if he denied it? Men with money like him—they could do anything they wanted. He could lie to the police, get a restraining order on her—anything was possible. Her own father hadn’t had two pennies to rub together and he had managed to disappear off the face of the earth, shirking his responsibilities, pretending she didn’t even exist.