Ariana wasn’t even nervous about facing Gian.
She had so much to tell him.
‘I have Ariana Romano in Reception to see you,’ Luna informed him.
‘Ariana?’ Gian frowned. ‘But I thought I was meeting with Dante...’
‘Well, Ariana is here instead.’
‘Fine.’ Gian did his level best to act as if it were of no consequence that it was Ariana who had just arrived. It was an informal meeting, but also a verynecessarymeeting. One that Gian had pushed for, given Dante seemed to have—both figuratively and literally—dropped the ball. ‘Send her through.’
Damn.
Gian usually had no qualms about facing an ex-lover, but with Ariana it felt different indeed.
It was because they were family friends, he told himself, steadfastly refusing to examine his feelings further than that.
It had been weeks since the funeral and to his quiet surprise he had heard nothing from Ariana. He had expected the demanding, rather clingy Ariana to drape herself like bindweed around one of the columns in Reception, or at the very least find anaccidentalreason for her to drop by.
And now she was here.
He was curious as to her mood, and very determined to get things back on a more regular footing, as if they had never made love.
As if they had not sat eating ice cream naked in her bed.
She stepped into his office, and brought with her an Italian spring. He had to consciously remind himself to greet her the same way he would have before...
‘Ariana...’ He stood and went round his desk and of course kissed her cheeks. There were dots of pink blossom in her hair and he had to resist lifting his hand and carefully picking them out. ‘This is unexpected...’
‘I know.’ She gave him an apologetic smile and an eye-roll as she took her seat but she was too excited to be awkward around him. ‘Dante and I agreed that I will take over the final preparations for the ball. Believe me, I did not engineer it...’
He knew she spoke the truth.
For Ariana with a secret agenda would be immaculate, rather than bare-legged and a little tousled. Plus, she was more animated than he had ever seen her and dived straight in.
‘Firstly, I don’t want to go with the forest theme...’
‘Thank God,’ Gian said. ‘What theme do you have in mind?’
‘None,’ Ariana said. ‘I want the ballroom to speak for itself, and I want gardenias on each table. He loved them.’
‘Yes.’
‘And orchids...’ she said, but Gian reacted with a wavering gesture with his hand.
‘Not together,’ he said.
‘Perhaps by his photo?’
Gian nodded.
‘And I want to change the menu.’ She handed him a sheet of paper she had torn from a pad.
He said nothing as he read through it, for Ariana did all the talking. ‘These were my father’s favourites,’ she said. ‘I thought we could use some produce from his estate...’
‘One moment,’ Gian said. She sat tapping her feet as, suddenly in the midst of this most important meeting, he simply got up and walked out. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said a moment later when he returned. ‘Now, where were we?’
‘I don’t think it should be a solemn night, but if we can acknowledge him in the food and wine...’