AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Giorgio shook his head. ‘They’re not saying anything! But given that it looks a bit 28 Days Later out there, I just took an educated guess.’
There was a long, strained silence, and then abruptly Massimo yanked the nearest chair away from the table and sat down heavily. ‘I was a little short,’ he admitted finally. ‘But I just need a bit more time...’
His words trailed off and, leaning back in the chair, he rubbed his hand slowly over the top of his neck. A headache was forming, and more than anything he just wanted to lie down in a dark room and go to sleep. Except that wouldn’t actually happen. Since arriving back in Rome he’d barely managed more than an hour or two a night on the sofa. He’d lost his appetite too—which probably wasn’t helping the headaches that punctuated his days and nights with monotonous regularity.
As though reading his mind, Giorgio cleared his throat and, pulling up a chair beside him, he said quietly, ‘You look exhausted. Why not have an early night? Use the weekend to recharge. Get some focus.’
Massimo stared up at the ceiling. That was the other problem. He couldn’t focus on anything. Certainly not work. He’d tried upping his exercise regime, to no effect. And his standard go-to for clearing his brain—a night or three with a beautiful, eager woman—held no appeal for him whatsoever. Not since Sardinia. Not since Flora.
The lawyer frowned. ‘I mean it. Go home!’
Glancing at Giorgio, Massimo gave him a small, tight smile. ‘That’s a good idea—’
And it was—in theory.
Only the truth was he didn’t have a home.
He owned properties: he’d added another three to his portfolio only last week. But none of them was a home, and the thought of spending a long weekend sitting alone in one of his hotel suites made a spasm of disproportionate misery squeeze his stomach tightly.
‘But I really should get up to speed with everything,’ he said slowly.
Nodding, Giorgio pulled out his phone and swiped rapidly across the screen. ‘In that case there’s a dinner tonight with the Minister of Finance. A lot of foreign investors are going to be there—including that Chinese consortium we worked with last year.’ The lawyer hesitated, his face carefully expressionless. ‘And we have a meeting in about an hour to discuss first-stage publicity for the Sardinia development.’
There was a sudden stillness in the room.
Massimo felt his skin tighten. The muscles in his back were rigid and it hurt to breathe. Did every damn conversation he had have to come back to Sardinia? He didn’t even want to think about the development, let alone spend an afternoon discussing it in detail.
Frowning, he pressed his fingers against his forehead, where a new ache was starting to form. ‘I thought we’d agreed to push everything back on that?’ he muttered.
Giorgio shrugged. ‘We did. But there’s no harm in talking.’
Massimo shivered. ‘Maybe I will take the afternoon off after all. I don’t feel great. Is there such a thing as Sardinian flu?’ he joked weakly.
There was a sudden shifting silence, and the lawyer cleared his throat. ‘There could be.’ He frowned, as though considering the possibility. ‘What are your symptoms?’
Massimo hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. ‘Nothing specific. I can’t sleep. My appetite’s shot. I’ve got no concentration.’
Irritably, he glanced around the empty boardroom. What kind of illness made you snap at your staff until they cried? Or made you so distracted they had to repeat everything they said to you?
Something was nagging at him—something obvious, yet nameless, and just out of reach.
Feeling Giorgio’s gaze, he shifted in his seat. ‘Ever since I got back to Rome I haven’t felt myself. Joking aside, do you think I might have picked something up in Sardinia?’
‘Maybe,’ Giorgio said quietly. ‘Although perhaps it’s not what you picked up but what you left behind.’
‘I didn’t leave anything behind...’ he began confusedly. ‘The palazzo was empty—’
The air seemed to swell, as though it were holding back a secret, and Massimo felt his heart start to pound.
‘The house was empty...’ he said again.
‘But she’s still there somewhere, isn’t she? Miss Golding, I mean?’ Giorgio prompted gently. ‘She won’t have left the island. It’s her home.’
And suddenly Massimo knew what was wrong with him.
He knew why he couldn’t sleep or eat.
Or concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes.
