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His manicured hand reached for the phone, his voice surprisingly gentle and familiar as he greeted his caller and then asked if she minded holding for a moment.
‘You represent me…’ Lazzaro continued, but he was distracted now, clearly wanting this meeting over so he could get back to his call. ‘My hotels are the best in the world. A high street suit and cheap luggage is not going to—’He saw her colour up, a little pink tinge come to her cheeks, and he reached in his drawer and scribbled down the name of several stores where he held accounts. ‘This is not a favour; this is part of your role if you want the job.’
‘Tha—’ She stopped herself from thanking him. ‘Of course.’
But he wasn’t listening. His focus was already elsewhere as he waved her away, and even before she’d closed the door behind her she could hear him talking into the phone.
Only, as much as Lazzaro was listening to Bonita, for a moment his mind was still on Caitlyn.
Watching her walk out of his office, Lazzaro knew he had made the right choice—she was smart, capable, and she had enough guts to stand up to him—and she was damned attractive too…His mouth split in a thin smile. He had absolutely no qualms about mixing business with pleasure…and Caitlyn Bell was going to be just that; he knew it.
An absolute pleasure.
CHAPTER THREE
OPPORTUNITY always knocked when one was least expecting it.
But not only was Caitlyn not expecting it—she actually didn’t have time for such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to come knocking this weekend. She had a wedding to go to tomorrow, which meant she already had a hairdresser’s appointment booked, and then the wedding post mortem on Sunday—in fact, she still hadn’t even bought a present.
Which left her about two free hours this evening to buy a fabulous executive wardrobe that would see her through not only her new job in Melbourne, but also a quick dash to Rome.
Stepping out onto the street, Caitlyn walked through the crowded city, her head spinning—not just from Lazzaro’s job offer, not just because in a matter of an hour or so her whole life had been turned around…She should be walking on air, but instead her legs felt like lead. It felt as if she was walking through mud and, giving in, she leant against a wall for a moment, watching but somehow not watching a tram clattering through the busy street, the spill of suits leaving their offices, eagerly awaiting their weekends. And though it was the last thing she wanted to think about, though there were a million other things she would rather dwell on, it was Malvolio she couldn’t rid from her mind.
A nauseous feeling rose in her throat as she relived the horrible scene. Saw again the hate in his eyes when she’d bitten him, heard again the vile spit of words as he’d stormed out of the door.
‘You’re a cheap slut, Caitlyn—just like Roxanne.’
Roxanne…
Caitlyn closed her eyes, willed her heart to settle into a more normal rhythm. The name he’d hurled meant that he knew who she was—a revelation she hadn’t been prepared for.
After ascending the elevator in a city department store, as usual she got off on the fourth floor. It took about ten minutes of blind panic for her to realise that no half-price suit in a sale was going to do for Lazzaro.
He wasn’t doing her a favour.
She said Lazzaro’s words over and over to herself as she stepped back on the elevator and ascended to the hallowed sixth floor, swallowing at the price tags on the exclusive designer labels, and even accepting the help of a very pushy assistant, whose rather snooty stance noticeably softened when Caitlyn stammered out her predicament.
‘You’re Lazzaro Ranaldi’s new personal assistant…So Gemma has left?’
‘Jenna.’
‘That’s right! Jenna shopped here regularly. I know all about how she just had to look the part.’
‘Really?’
‘Your new boss has very exacting standards where his staff are concerned. Absolutely I’ll help you.’
Standing in the changing room, Caitlyn stared at her reflection—the safe black suit she’d initially chosen had been tut-tutted away by the assistant and replaced with a slate-grey one, which was gorgeous, a cream linen one, which Caitlyn wasn’t sure about, and an olive one which was fab too—although the skirt was just a touch too short for her liking. Now she was wearing a chocolate-brown suit that, as the assistant had promised, did work well with her colouring. It calmed her complexion and brought out the blue of her eyes, and with her hair done, with make-up on and the right shoes…Standing on tiptoe, Caitlyn assumed a snooty pose and decided that she actually might just pass as Lazzaro Ranaldi’s assistant—and she could afford to help her mother now, could pay the lawyer and, if the ruling didn’t go their way, would be able to pay off Aunty Cheryl and Roxanne.
