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Vincenzo was speaking of the excitement locally, and said there were a few interviews nationally, for various tourism shows and breakfast television and the like.
‘I shall handle those,’ Vincenzo said.
‘You can take turns with Aurora,’ Nico interjected.
‘But I have had media training,’ Vincenzo pointed out. ‘Aurora can be a touch…forceful, and we want to extend a gentle invitation.’
‘Vincenzo,’ Nico said. ‘I wasn’t offering a suggestion, I was telling you to take turns with Aurora.’
He was not doing her any favours. Vincenzo was vain and self-serving—and, though he was brilliant at his job, it was as clear as day to Nico that Aurora, with her passion, her low throaty laugh, with her sheer love of Silibri, would be more enticing for potential guests.
‘Next,’ Nico said, and nodded to Francesca.
‘The fittings for the uniforms have been delayed.’
‘Then get them done,’ Nico said, even while knowing it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.
‘I have tried, but the staff have issues with the colour.’
‘And the fabric…’ It was the first time Aurora had spoken. ‘The wool is too heavy and the green makes us look like…’ She snapped her fingers. ‘That Englishman’s Merry Men.’
Nico had to think for a moment. But then he always had to think when Aurora was around—she brought him no peace.
He thought of the dark green uniforms that looked so elegant against the old Roman and sophisticated Florentine buildings, and worked well in both England and France, and then he joined the dots she had led him to with her mention of ‘the Englishman’s Merry Men’.
‘You mean Robin Hood?’
‘Who?’ Aurora frowned, and then she gave him a tiny smile to say of course she knew who he meant and was teasing him.
Their minds jostled, and she could see he was fighting not to return her smile. She was still looking at Nico’s full mouth, with a smile on her own, when Vincenzo cleared his throat and spoke up.
‘We think that Silibri should have a more casual feel.’
‘It’s a five-star hotel.’ Nico gave a shake of his head. ‘I do not want my staff looking casual.’
‘Of course not,’ Vincenzo agreed. ‘But there is a stunning French navy linen, and teamed with crisp white shirts…’
‘We would look like sailors,’ Aurora sulked.
Nico pressed the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. What the hell had he been thinking? What had possessed him to venture into Silibri? He should have sold the land there and been done with it…
Yet as he sat there he recalled Aurora’s emphatic no when he had suggested that the night after—
Damn, no matter how he tried to avoid it, all roads led to that night.
Nico forced himself back to the moment: What in God’s name was he doing, sitting here discussing fabric? It was his hotel and it had been four years in the making.
The trouble with the Silibri venture was that the staff considered it to be their hotel too. They were all so involved and took it all so personally.
‘What about the same green as the other hotels, but in linen?’ Francesca suggested.
Aurora shook her head.
‘That just takes us back to the Merry Men,’
‘So what do you suggest, Aurora?’ Nico threw down his pen in exasperation.
Of course she had an immediate answer. ‘Persian Orange.’
