As he entered the room, he estimated that the meeting would take four minutes. One minute for them to stare at him gravely and comment on how his appalling behaviour left a stain on the Corretti name and the company as a whole, another minute while they told him he wasn't going to have a seat on the main board and a further two minutes while he gave them an uncensored, unvarnished account of what he thought of them. That part promised to be entertaining.
Prepared to make full use of his two minutes, it threw him to see the chairman rise to his feet, tears in his eyes.
Tears?
Luca executed a perfect emergency stop. He was used to women crying over him, but men crying over him? That was taking things a step too far.
‘Luca … ' Hands outstretched, the man who had been a close friend of his grandfather's walked round the table towards him.
Preferring all physical contact to come from the opposite sex, Luca backed away hastily, crashing into a chair in the process. ‘No need for the drama. I'm the sort of guy who prefers the truth without embellishment.'
‘I'm not going to lie to you, we didn't see this coming.'
‘Didn't see what coming?'
‘Your engagement.'
The word felt as if someone was rubbing sandpaper over raw skin. ‘Ah, yes. About that-'
Bursting into a stream of Italian, the man hugged him and Luca stood rigid in that embrace, thinking that if becoming engaged triggered so much uncontrollable emotion in people then he was doubly relieved he'd chosen never to do it. ‘Look, there's something I need to-'
‘It changes everything.'
‘Marriage? Yes, I know, that's why I've never-' Luca broke off, horrified as the older man took his face in his hands.
‘If you're responsible enough to take that step then you're responsible enough to have a seat at this table.'
‘Scusi?'
‘We're voting you in as Matteo's successor at least until the fuss dies down and he returns. Angelo thinks he can just walk in here and take over our hotel-we'll show him a united front. You're a family man, now. A true, loyal Corretti.'
Biting back the observation that the words loyal and Corretti went together about as well as lion and baby gazelle, Luca extracted himself carefully from the man's grip, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't actually been kissed. ‘So what you're telling me,' he said slowly, ‘is that my track record with the House of Corretti meant nothing to you but now that I'm engaged, I'm suddenly fit to run the hotel group?'
‘Running a hotel group takes more than brain power.' One of the other directors spoke up. ‘It takes dedication. You have to demonstrate responsibility not just to your employees, but to your shareholders. We saw no evidence of that in your life, but it seems we were wrong. Not only that, but you've proved yourself capable of discretion. You and Taylor Carmichael are both highprofile people and yet somehow and we can't imagine how-' he beamed approvingly ‘-you have managed to keep this relationship a secret until now. Frankly, this has come as a shock to us, Luca.'
‘It came as a shock to me too,' Luca confessed with perfect honesty. ‘I didn't see it coming.'
‘So what are your plans?'
Plans? He'd planned to kill the engagement rumours and move on with his life, unrestricted, but now he was rethinking fast. Being engaged seemed to have afforded him a status within the board that impressive profits and innovative thinking had failed to produce.
If that was what it took to prove to this bunch of dinosaurs that he could add value to their company, then maybe it was worth considering.
He tested the water. ‘The wedding itself isn't going to happen for a while.'
That statement was met by more beams of approval.
Encouraged, Luca elaborated. ‘And right now we're both so busy we're not managing to see much of each other.'
Approval turned to sympathy and Luca decided that maybe he could be the first engaged man on the planet who never actually saw his ‘fiancée.' Pondering on that thought, he decided that the situation could actually be turned to his advantage. All he had to do in return for the responsibility he wanted was resist the urge to throw himself under the wheels of a passing car every time someone said the word engaged.
As his mind gradually emerged from the vice-like panic that came from thinking about weddings, he realised that Taylor Carmichael was probably already announcing to the world that she'd dumped him.
Knowing he had to act quickly, Luca spread his hands and smiled at the board. ‘I just came here today to share the happy news, but I'm afraid I can't stay. Gutted though I am not to spend more time with you, I'm sure you understand. It's Taylor's first day of filming down at the docklands and I want to just go over there and be supportive, because-because-' never having been supportive before, he floundered for a plausible reason for his actions ‘-because that's what engaged people do.' Truthfully he had absolutely no idea what engaged people did. All he knew was that he had nothing in common with them. ‘I want to be there for her.'
Fortunately the board seemed impressed. ‘Of course. After Matteo's behaviour at the wedding that demonstration of loyalty is just what the public need to see. Who would have thought you would be the one to add sobriety to the Corretti family name.'
Sobriety?
Luca recoiled in alarm. He was prepared to live behind a facade of respectability just to prove to these old codgers that he could do more for the company than a whole boardroom full of men in suits, but being accused of sobriety made him wonder if it was worth it.
‘Go.' Visibly moved, the chairman waved his hand towards the door. ‘We'll have a meeting of the hotel executive committee tomorrow evening and we look forward to hearing your ideas for boosting the hotel business then. Bring your fiancée!'
Biting back the comment that his ideas would have been the same whether he were engaged or not, Luca left the room not sure if he were in the frying pan or the fire.
Whichever, there was no doubt in his mind that he needed to get to the docklands where filming was taking place before Taylor ruined everything. He'd tell her he was willing to go along with this whole engagement thing just as long as it got him a seat on the main board.
How hard could it be?
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WHEN ARE YOU getting married?'
‘Tell us how you met Luca Corretti.'
‘Why didn't you attend the wedding together?'
Journalists pressed around her, trapping her with a volley of questions until Taylor wanted to scream at them to leave her alone but she couldn't react because there, at the edge of the pack, watching her with a warning in his eyes was Santo Corretti.
He hadn't said a word but she'd got the message.
If she didn't handle this well, she was off the film.
He wouldn't save her.
And how could she handle it well? Thanks to Luca's refusal to play along with her, there was nothing to handle. As soon as she told them there was no engagement, it would be over.
The day was turning into a bad dream.
She'd already ordered herself a taxi and in the meantime she was stalling, waiting for it to arrive. Once she told them the truth she'd be on her own. She had no illusions about that. She needed an escape route.
And once she was safely away from here, she'd rethink her life. She didn't have much choice, did she? Her past was a constant roadblock to her dream of being taken seriously as an actress. Maybe she should give up on film and work in theatre instead. Maybe she could fly to England and base herself there. They had Stratford on Avon and The Globe.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she told herself that the first thing she was going to do when she was safely away from here was eat something. The second was to give that Portia woman Luca's home address and all his personal details. They deserved each other.
The loud roar of an engine made heads turn.
Taylor's heart beat faster. So this was it. ‘I have something to tell you-'
But the journalists weren't looking at her. They were staring at a red Ferrari hurtling towards them at a terrifying speed.
At any other time the car would have made her drool, but right now the only car she was interested in was her taxi and this definitely wasn't it.
She felt a flash of panic. Already some of the journalists were turning back to her, waiting for her to finish her sentence. It was too late to back down. She was going to have to go ahead and tell them the truth about Luca. Santo Corretti would be so disgusted he'd leave her to it. She was going to have to elbow her way out of this mob alone and just hope the taxi showed up before she was ripped to pieces.
The sports car showed no sign of slowing and she saw several journalists mutter to one another in alarm before taking a few precautionary steps backwards.