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Luca’s gaze rested on her face and she saw the dawn of concern and knew she must head it off. ‘I can smell garlic and oregano and chocolate.’
‘My chocolate in particular, of course.’
‘Of course.’ She returned his smile. ‘It must feel amazing to be part of Turin’s history. Part of how chocolate has evolved through the years.’
He looked struck. ‘I’m not sure I ever thought about it like that. Thank you.’ His smile was genuine and he looked absurdly youthful and it touched her even as she wondered how he did see himself.
Absurd shyness overcame her and she took refuge in what she knew best. ‘Would you mind if I take pictures as we walk?’ The camera was her equivalent of a safety blanket.
‘Of course.’
As they walked she looked round, snapped away, took in the wide tree-lined boulevards, the buildings of varying sizes and shapes that oozed history and colour. Elegant gardens vied for attention with a proliferation of formal beds that looked centuries old.
Luca seemed content to walk beside her, occasionally pointing out a place of interest.
Until, ‘We’re here. This is Silvio’s.’ Emily gazed around at the square, absorbed the sheer feel of the history of the buildings, shops and cafés. In the middle was a church, an architectural mix of bell tower, walls, domes and a neo-classical face that combined to create an awe-inspiring awareness of how long people had worshipped here.
Following her gaze, Luca said, ‘This is one of Turin’s most loved places of worship; it has been added to over the centuries and is said to be a place of healing.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Emily said softly. ‘It all is.’
Luca nodded towards a small café. ‘That has been there since the mid-seventeen-hundreds. We should come here tomorrow for a cup of bicerin.’
‘I’d like that. Layers of espresso, chocolate and milk, right?’
‘Right.’
She smiled at him. ‘It’s a date.’ The words seemed to echo softly round the square and she hastened to clarify. ‘Not a real date, obviously. Just a business date.’
‘Of course.’ His voice was smooth but laced with amusement and she felt heat flush her face. ‘Shall we go in?’
* * *
Luca looked round the familiar, eclectic interior of the bar he had worked in for years. The walls were a vibrant blue, and empty bottles were suspended from the ceiling in an eye watering zigzag display. Small mosaic-topped tables were scattered over the wooden floor, the air hummed with conversation, and the scents of fruit and food and a sheer vibrancy that always gave him a buzz.
‘Luca.’ The waist-coated man moved from behind the bar arms outstretched and Luca moved forward, clasped hands and exchanged a hug before turning to Emily.
‘Emily, this is Matteo, my old manager.’
‘Your old boss,’ the Italian corrected with a beaming smile.
‘Matteo, this is Emily Khatri, a business colleague, here to get some photographic inspiration on Turin.’
‘Enchanted to meet you.’ Luca saw the appreciation in his old friend’s eyes as they rested on Emily and felt a sudden absurd stab of emotion. Whoa. What was that? Jealousy? That was both irrational and ridiculous. Emily was not the type of woman he would enter into a relationship with; she was just out of a relationship, she was clearly vulnerable, she had got married, which implied she believed in the fallacy of love and, as icing on the proverbial panettone, she was Ava’s best friend. In other words, he had no claim on her whatsoever, yet a stab of irritation jabbed him as Matteo smiled at Emily and engaged her in a flirtatious conversation.
Luca gave his head a small shake. He knew exactly how negative an emotion jealousy was—it had been the downfall of his first relationship. He had been so terrified Lydia would leave him he had smothered her in love, hated it when she so much as looked at another man. Ironically enough, in the end, she had left him for another man. A rich, handsome, charming man who ‘knew how to have fun’. Just as his father had left him for a rich, aristocratic woman who had financed his path to success. The parallels were impossible to ignore and he’d learnt a lesson he would never forget. Do not get involved; if you don’t feel love, you can’t fear its loss, can’t let that fear generate negative emotions, take over your every waking moment with dread of the inevitable. Even better, you couldn’t experience the pain of loss when the inevitable happened. As it inescapably would.
Never again. And in truth, since Lydia, no woman had ignited so much as the smallest spark of jealousy—he’d always been in control of his liaisons. Luca shook his head. Jealousy was a mire of negativity that would have no place at his table. Certainly not now. Matteo was one of his dearest friends. And Emily was a business colleague. And if for some inexplicable reason attraction was distorting into feelings of jealousy it was time to rein the attraction in. Fast.
They were both looking at him. ‘Is all well, Luca?’ Matteo asked and he’d swear he saw a smile lurk in his friend’s eyes.
‘Yes. Sorry.’ He pulled a smile to his face. ‘I was daydreaming about my many hours behind the bar.’ Now he turned to Emily. ‘Have you chosen a cocktail?’
‘Not yet. I was going to see if I could have one of your signature ones.’
‘Better yet,’ Matteo said. ‘Why don’t you mix it, Luca? Show Emily how it is done. You are both welcome behind the bar. In the meantime, I had better serve some customers.’ He waved a hand to one of the other staff. ‘Keep a table for Luca.’ He smiled at Emily. ‘It will be good, I promise. Luca was the best in the business.’
As Matteo moved away Luca knew how foolish he’d been. Presumably the misplaced jealousy was simply another symptom of his current emotional state—a state he would supress. As he would suppress this attraction. Yet he sensed perspiration form on the back of his neck as he eyed the somewhat small space behind the bar. Forcing his jaw to unclench, he managed a smile as he gestured to the area. ‘Come, I will show you how to make martini cioccolato di Luca.’
