‘Yes, precisely.’
‘Do you work only in North America?’ Again, there was only cool enquiry in his voice.
‘No, in Italy, mostly. I’m based in Tuscany. But I have clients here too. Some have properties in Italy as well—hence the link.’
‘Where do you make the most money?’
‘It’s not a question of where, so much as from whom.’ It was Ariana’s turn to make her voice dry. ‘Once I gain a client’s trust and confidence, then she will often engage me for other properties, or to redo one I did some years ago.’
‘So...’ he glanced at her again as he resumed eating ‘...repeat business rather than growth of your client base?’
‘Both.’ Her voice was still crisp. ‘There’s a finite number of properties, even for very wealthy clients, no matter how often they’re redone, so taking on new clients regularly is essential. I have to be careful, though, not to over-extend. Each client gets my exclusive attention, and I can’t and won’t dilute that.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t take on staff?’
‘No—quite deliberately so. It would compromise my personal brand and give me headaches over management, employment law, et cetera. Even taking on freelance designers would be complicated, so I avoid it completely. I prefer it that way.’
‘So what is your gross turnover?’
She blinked. ‘And that would be your business because...?’ she countered.
A thin smile indented his mouth briefly. ‘Habit,’ he said succinctly.
‘Forgive me,’ she said sweetly, ‘if I don’t satisfy your curiosity on that. Since I’m not a limited company, my accounts are my own business.’
A careless shrug of one shoulder was her answer. ‘Like I said—habit.’ A half-smile twisted at his mouth, not humorous so much as sardonic. ‘I admit I find it curious to encounter someone who does not wish to expand their business or seek investment for such expansion.’
Ariana shrugged back. ‘I’m comfortable where I am,’ she said. ‘I make a reasonable profit and, as you observed, I am not facing penury,’ she added sweetly.
A waiter whisked away their empty plates and another deposited their entrées, while the sommelier reappeared to refresh their glasses. When they were finally left alone, Luca Farnese resumed his interrogation.
Why don’t I mind him doing so?
The question fleeted through Ariana’s thoughts, but she had an answer already. Several of them. Because it was giving them something to pass the time—a neutral subject that didn’t matter.
But there was more to it than that, she realised. Memory stabbed of her pathetic attempts to get her grandfather to acknowledge her achievement in building a successful business from scratch. His response had been scathing. She would crash and burn, go bankrupt. It was inevitable—just a matter of time—she should have stuck to choosing colours and fabrics...
The old and all too familiar burning resentment rose in her, and with it came a realisation that she was actually enjoying being interrogated by someone like Luca Farnese. He was taking her seriously, doing her the courtesy of treating her like a businesswoman—not a silly little female, way out of her depth and making a fool of herself...
‘How does your profit align with charging for your professional time? Or as against the uplift on what you supply to clients in material? And how do you manage cost differentials between suppliers and what you pass on to clients?’ Luca Farnese was asking now, as both of them made a start on the succulent rich steaks of theirtournedos rossini.
‘Carefully!’ Ariana acknowledged. ‘I have to provide added value as a middleman, or my clients could go straight to the suppliers and vice versa. My USP is very often simply sourcing—knowing how to get what a client wants, from somewhere she hasn’t thought of.’
‘Do you carry inventory?’
‘Some...but I have to be careful about that too,’ Ariana answered.
‘Dead money?’
‘Yes, indeed. But it gives me agility and speed if I have something in stock that I know a particular client likes—I buy in anticipation sometimes.’
‘Risky?’ he observed laconically.
She nodded. ‘That’s why knowing my clients is key. I can sometimes be proactive—pre-emptive, even. If I see something—say, at an antiques sale—I can let a client know even if she hasn’t considered that she wants it. Knowing my clients’ tastes intimately is a big part of my value, and it helps keep them loyal to me.’
He went on to his next question, and Ariana realised she was finding it a stimulating experience. His line of questioning was keen, and without doubt reflected a surgical precision when it came to grasping the anatomy of any business. Interior design would be small fry to someone like him, of course.
Deciding she’d had enough of being the one under interrogation, she turned the tables. ‘So, what about you? What do you do to keep yourself from penury?’