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Emma had an opinion on everything.
‘Go home,’ he said, irritated with himself now. He just wanted the temptation of her out of there.
‘Oh!’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s your art class tonight, isn’t it?’
She’d missed the last two weeks, and Emma was touched that he’d noticed. ‘Is there anything else you need before I go?’
He chose not to answer that one.
He’d get to that soon enough.
CHAPTER SIX
‘EMMA!’
There were many ways Luca said her name, and with his rich Italian accent the first couple of thousand times he had made her rather plain name sound vaguely exotic.
Just not any more.
This was a short brusque ‘Emma’ that came over her intercom and jolted her out of the notes she was compiling, a clipped order that he wanted her to come into his office now.
She had a nine a.m. meeting with HR that she had to be at in a five minutes—a meeting about which he would want a full written report on his desk by lunchtime,
with question time after, no doubt. She was tempted to ignore his summons, let him think that she had already left.
‘Emma!’ The voice was just as curt, only this time it came not from the intercom but from the man himself—clearly she hadn’t responded within the requisite two seconds.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’
‘I was just coming,’ Emma said calmly.
It had been a week since Luca had put forward his ridiculous proposition—and though he’d had the good sense not to broach it again, the mood between them wasn’t great.
He wasn’t sulking exactly but, as Emma had demanded, things were strictly business-like and the chatter and banter had gone—and she missed it. Working such ridiculous hours, he consumed a large part of her day, and she missed that side of him, that was all.
‘I need you to set up a meeting with Mr Hirosiko. I need all the latest figures…’
Luca had recently set his giddy sights on Japan—a difficult market to break into for an outsider, only Luca had seen it as a challenge, zipping through a refresher course of the language, instructing Emma and Evelyn to learn it too, and when Luca focused, he really focused. Not only did he brush up on etiquette skills but he was suddenly into kaiseki ryori, or Japanese haute cuisine, his restless mind constantly seeking challenges, new interests. He never tired; instead, he just absorbed the new energy and expanded, moving on to the next challenge while retaining the old.
‘Set up the meeting room for a face-to-face.’ He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall some small detail from his busy, brilliant mind. ‘There is something I need to address with him first…’
‘It was his mother’s funeral last week,’ Emma responded. She knew because she had arranged the flowers and condolences that had been sent on behalf of D’Amato Financiers.
‘That’s right.’ He nodded brief thanks—he would start the difficult meeting with some friendly conversation, before heading for the jugular. It wasn’t actually a tactic, Emma had realised after a few weeks of working for him. Luca could separate the business side of things from the social with alarming ease—his condolences would be genuine, his sympathy real, but when it came down to business there would be no concessions or momentary reprieves—which was why D’Amato Financiers were not just surviving but thriving. Luca dealt in money, serious money—his own and other people’s—and, eternally vigilant, he pre-empted things with skill and ease.
And he was pre-empting now as she glanced at her watch.
‘HR can wait,’ Luca said. ‘This is important.’
Kasumi, Mr Hirosiko’s PA, was always sweet and unruffled whenever Emma had dealings with her, and this morning she was smiling into the screen when Emma finally found the right button to push. She chatted for a moment with the other woman, admiring her glossy blue-black hair in the video conferencing room as she arranged Luca’s meeting desk and pulled up some figures he had asked for on his laptop.
‘I will tell Mr Hirosiko that Mr D’Amato is ready for him,’ Kasumi said when both women were sure everything was in order. And though she had done this many times now, there was still an awkwardness talking to the large screen, still a certain awkwardness in Emma’s movements as she set up the room.
‘Konbanwa,’ Emma said, wishing Kasumi a good evening.
On Luca’s instructions she had been learning Japanese in what could loosely be called her spare time. On the drive to work or to visit her father she practised the difficult language with some CDs Luca had lent her—but after six weeks she was still on level one!
