Chapter Three #2
‘I’m sure you’d like to see your room.’
She’d been in Leo’s magnificent Milan property before.
One of the few people privileged to see the living areas on the ground floor at least. Not many people had.
Whilst style magazines gushed over his other residences that were dotted around the world, he’d never invited them into this one.
The only photographs of it available online, were old real estate listings before he’d purchased it and done an extensive renovation.
Whilst the palette of the villa was all warm neutrals, from the glorious, honeyed floorboards to the creamy walls, the spaces were punctuated with pops of colour.
From the large antique rugs on the floor to the soft furnishings and art on the walls.
It was a place that looked…inviting. Loved.
Lived in. Unlike his more modern interiors, which struck her as showpieces, this one had history about it.
It felt more like Leo than any other place she’d seen.
Like home.
Instead of heading into the lounge area Leo made his way up a flight of stairs to the upper floor, then up another flight to what appeared to be an attic area.
‘I’ve given you the whole top floor. I thought you might appreciate the privacy. The main bedroom’s below you.’ He opened the door and walked in. She followed.
The space stole her breath. It was unlike any other part of the house she’d seen.
Once Leo had asked Simone her favourite colour and she’d said she had none, probably more in a fit of rebellion than anything else.
This room, her room, was entirely decorated in shades of white and cream.
It should have looked cold, soulless, but the space was anything but that.
The ceilings were ornately moulded plasterwork.
Against one wall was a four-poster bed in a pale, whitewashed wood.
The covers were plush and soft and it was stacked with pillows that looked like you could sink into them and never want to leave.
The canopy and drapes were filmy and light, tied back against the posts, giving the room an understated opulence.
A velvet covered bench sat at the end of the bed.
Along a wall opposite to the bed sat a large couch in an off-white linen with matching cushions. It was a space designed for someone to inject their personality should they wish, yet still felt complete just as it was, an elegantly conceived blank canvas.
Designed by someone who’d listened to her.
‘This is glorious,’ she whispered, her eyes burning with emotion at Leo’s thoughtfulness.
Her own room in her old family home had been decorated by an interior designer.
What Simone had wanted hadn’t really factored into the plan at all.
Her mother had demanded the space match the rest of the house and so Simone had always thought it was cold and soulless.
This room was none of those things.
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable here,’ Leo said.
‘I know I will.’
She couldn’t look at him right now, because if she did, she might be totally overcome by it all.
Instead, she moved to one of the windows set into the sloping ceiling and pulled back the filmy curtain.
Below them sat a walled garden, a slice of green with lush plantings and what appeared to be a huge magnolia tree in the back corner, which would look magnificent when it flowered.
‘Is there anything you need?’ Leo asked.
All Simone needed was time to regroup. She shook her head. ‘I think you’ve done more than enough.’
She turned and tried to smile but it felt weak and shaky. Leo didn’t seem to notice. Nothing about his demeanour changed, apart from looking a little pleased with himself.
‘As you’ve done for me. Don’t think your efforts are unappreciated. For this morning, I have some work to do—’
‘Can I help?’ Work. That’s what she needed to get back her equilibrium. It reminded her of what her role really was here, as his valued executive assistant.
Leo shook his head. ‘It shouldn’t take long. Something a little time sensitive is all.’
That of itself was strange. Disappointment settled like a stone in her stomach.
Simone knew everything about his work and she’d seen nothing on her email indicating anything time sensitive had come in.
There was also something a bit different about Leo in this moment.
He appeared a little closed off. Though perhaps the ‘work’ had something to do with the ‘surprise’ he’d scheduled in for tomorrow.
‘I also realise the only time you’ve seen Milan is for your job, so if you’d like me to take you sightseeing after I’m done…’
Simone didn’t need more time in close proximity to Leo, not after this.
And especially not with the risk of photographers following them to capture every glaring detail without the time to prepare herself.
What she really needed was space and sleep.
Perhaps if she was a little better rested her head would clear.
At the moment, her thoughts and emotions were a complicated tangle she needed to undo.
‘Maybe another time,’ she said. ‘I’d like to catch up with my sister this afternoon. Give her a call and see how she is.’
‘Of course.’ Leo hesitated. Slipped his phone from his pocket and checked it.
Frowned. Tapped a quick message. Pressed send.
Returned his gaze to hers with a tight smile.
Clearly he wasn’t happy about something.
She might have asked what, but if he wanted to tell her he would.
‘Your bags will be up soon. Remember our day trip tomorrow. Dress—’
‘For a day on the water. I remember. I packed appropriately.’
‘Of that, cara, I have no doubt. I’ll let you get settled.’ He gave her a sharp nod, then turned and left the room. Alone with her thoughts, doubting everything.
Leo motored the boat he’d hired across Lake Garda.
The breeze cool and fresh over the vivid blue water.
His mother had always spoken fondly of growing up around this place, before moving to Milan and meeting his father.
An idyllic childhood in a little village, swimming on the lake, catering to tourists.
They’d been back to Lake Garda a few times when he was a child, but then the family furniture business had taken over and consumed everything.
He’d wondered whether his mother had felt landlocked, moving away from the water and a place she’d loved so much.
He’d always regretted that he’d never thought to ask.
Leo ignored the sensation, one that had plagued him unrelentingly in the years since his mother had died. Today wasn’t about that past, but the present.
‘You’ve been the international man of mystery today,’ Simone said. ‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘That’s not helpful.’
Leo winked. ‘I recommend living in the moment. Trust me.’
Simone’s cheeks seemed to flush a gratifying shade of pink, a reaction he enjoyed a little too much. Of course, it could also have been the sun radiating warmth against her skin.
The purpose of today had been two-fold. He’d thought Simone might enjoy some time exploring one of the area’s natural treasures.
Then there was their impending dinner with the Tessitores.
His marketing manager reported that the Silvestris had been wining and dining the family at some of Milan’s finest venues.
Acid burned in Leo’s gut and he gritted his teeth.
It was imperative their dinner tomorrow was successful and yet Simone remained a little reticent around him.
Moments of trust and closeness like when the paparazzi had been photographing them and she’d sunk into his arms, then moments of pulling away.
It was enough to fool the public in a photograph, likely not enough in a more intimate setting as the dinner would be.
They needed something more. To cement an understanding between them that they hadn’t truly achieved as employer and employee.
Today was meant to be fun, enjoyable. Reaching a kind of familiarity with one another, when to date they’d only ever been about work.
‘Would it help if I told you we’re visiting a place not open to the public, owned by one of my clients?’
‘You mixing work with pleasure doesn’t surprise me at all. That’s who you are.’
The comment stung, even though it was fair. But in the end, it had been his desire never to be cold or hungry again that drove him to succeed where so many others had failed. Whilst there were a thousand things he needed to atone for, he wouldn’t apologise for that.
Leo steered the vintage wooden motor launch towards a private jetty just visible in the distance.
Simone matched the vibe of the day without even realising it.
In white canvas shorts and a pretty blue and white polka-dot top.
Her hair in a high ponytail, tied with a blue scarf.
Wearing sneakers in a blue and white polka dot too, a hint of whimsy that surprised him given she always seemed buttoned up so tight.
Add in some oversized sunglasses and a beachy looking wicker and leather bag and she looked like the perfect sixties starlet.
He wondered what the fashion magazines might say about her today?
They’d likely think the same as him in this moment.
She was perfect.
It shocked him that for two years he hadn’t really noticed her appearance at all when now, he had trouble looking away.
There was far more to Simone than she’d ever let on in the office.
The woman had been as cool and opaque as the finest Carrara marble.
Yet for him, he would only be able to admire from afar.
Whilst Leo believed she enjoyed him telling her she was beautiful, their interactions would remain forever distant because that’s what she wanted.
So did he. Not to ruin a perfect working relationship or risk the deal with Tessitore he so fervently desired.