Page 22 of Saved by the CEO


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He practically jumped to his feet when he heard Nico shut the door. “Signor! I was just—just—” Seeing Louisa, he stopped midsentence and simply stared. This morning’s newspaper lay open on the desk, the photo of her and Nico on display.

“Good morning, Mario. I’d like you to meet Louisa Harrison from Palazzo di Comparino. She’s offered to help us fulfill shipping orders so we can get ready for harvest.”

“Hello.”

“Mario is studying viticulture at the university. He wants to learn how to become a great vintner.”

Mario was doing his best to look anywhere but at her. Still, if Nico could breeze in here and act as though there wasn’t a suggestive photo of them lying a foot away, then so could she. Mustering up some fake confidence, she flashed the young man a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Mario,” she said holding out her hand.

“Um, yes. Likewise,” Mario muttered. Still avoiding her gaze, he hurriedly shook her hand before picking up a stack of paperwork. “I’d better finish getting these field readings recorded into the system,” he said. Clasping the papers to his chest, he rushed out of the office.

“Told you people would have problems with me,” she said once the young man disappeared.

Nico’s mouth was a thin tight line. “I will talk to him. Let him know that kind of behavior is unacceptable.”

“Don’t. It’s not his fault.”

“But of course it is. I won’t have my employees treating you poorly. He needs to know that.”

“Please.” She grabbed his hand as he headed toward the door. “I don’t want to make a scene.” Mario’s behavior was nothing compared to what she’d endured in Boston. What she didn’t want was to feel as though she was under an even bigger spotlight. “Just show me where I’m supposed to sit and let me get to work.”

“You’re going to stay, then? I don’t have to talk you out of leaving?”

“For now.” She was here. She might as well try to tough it out for a little while. After all, there was always the chance Mario was just shy or something, right?

The way Nico’s face brightened helped, too, as did his softly spoken “I’m glad.”

“But, before I bring you to your office,” he added, “I want to show you the facility. You should know your way around the building if I’m not here and you need to find something.”

The office exited into the main plant. Standing on the landing just outside the office door, Louisa was shocked to see the facilities empty.

“Where is everybody?” she asked.

“I always close right before harvest. Gives the employees time with their families and lets me make sure the equipment is in working order. Enjoy the silence while you can. Come next week this building will be so loud you won’t be able to hear yourself think.”

“I bet.” She didn’t have a clue what any of the machines did, but simply given the sheer number of machines she’d expect a lot of noise. “It all looks so modern,” she remarked. “Not quite how I expected wine to be made.”

“No doubt you pictured a dark cavern full of oak casks where a group of Italian gypsy women crush the grapes by foot?”

“Nothing that dramatic.”

“Are you sure? That’s what the tourists believe. Why do you think my store is in the oldest building on the property? To continue the myth.”

Meanwhile, their Old World wine was being produced in the finest of twenty-first-century stainless-steel and concrete surroundings. “So no grape stomping at all, then?” Louisa asked as she followed him down the stairs and onto the plant floor.

“Only at the harvest festival.”

Ahead, they caught the flash of a pale blue work shirt near one of the machines. “Vitale,” Nico called out. “Is that you?”

A silver head appeared. “Yes, signor. I was replacing the timer belt.” Just like Mario had, the man avoided looking in her direction. “You were right, signor,” he said. “It had worn thin. We shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“Good. Good. Vitale, I’d like you to meet Louisa.” Once again, Nico forced an introduction, and again Louisa was acknowledged with a nervous smile and a nod before Nico offered Vitale an excuse to leave.

“Give them time,” Nico told her when she started to comment. “They’ll warm up to you.”

Sure they will, she thought with a sigh. “People are going to believe what they want to believe, Nico.” Sometimes even when the truth was right in front of them—the way she had with Steven. “And in this case, the headlines have had way too big a head start.”

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