Page 38 of Once Upon a Time in Venice

Vittoria shrugged. ‘How do I know? But are you quite sure you don’t like him?’

Gina thought about it. ‘I don’t really know him.’

‘Then why not give him a chance? You never know what might blossom. You need to discuss business anyway, and this way you get a nice meal out of it. Get him to order a bottle of vintage champagne!’

Gina laughed at Vittoria’s brazenness. In reality, there were many reasons she didn’t want to go on a date – if that’s what it was – with Edoardo. Reasons that she could never share with Vittoria.

Besides, it sounded ridiculous, but Gina couldn’t stop thinking about the man she’d met at Carnivale. It was absurd; she didn’t even know his name, and she had no idea what he looked like. She could walk right past him in the piazza and not even know it. But there’d been something between them, she was sure of it. She remembered how her body had tingled with excitement as he’d wrapped his cape around her in such a gallant fashion. How she’d almost swooned when he’d quoted Casanova at her. How he’d stood up to the three threatening men and scared them off, as though he wasn’t afraid of anything.

Gina had been preoccupied since then, thinking about the roof terrace where they’d spent a little time together, trying to remember how they’d reached it and wondering whether she could ever find it again. She found herself daydreaming that she’d managed to track it down, and when she got there he would be waiting for her. Neither of them would need to say a word, and he’d sweep her into his arms before—

‘Two brothers,’ Vittoria was saying, sounding gleeful. ‘It’s like a Shakespeare play!’

‘They’re brothers-in-law,’ Gina explained, wondering at herself daydreaming over a man. ‘Not brothers.’

‘Ah, that explains why they look so … different,’ Vittoria nodded sagely, trying to suppress a smirk and failing.

‘You’re not selling him to me,’ Gina frowned.

Vittoria laughed. ‘Just go and have fun. You’re young and beautiful – you should be enjoying yourself. I never see you with a man.’

‘No, I …’ Gina trailed off as she was assailed by a sudden impression: rough hands, male sweat, scratchy stubble against her skin.

‘What?’ Vittoria asked, looking at her curiously.

‘Nothing.’ Gina shook her head to clear it. ‘I’d better get going. Wish me luck.’

‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ Vittoria giggled, as she waved her off.

Chapter 16

Venice, February 1995

Harry’s Bar was a Venetian institution. Located beside the San Marco ferry station, its wooden doors were discreet and easy to miss unless you knew where to look. Inside it was equally unpretentious, decorated in a pared-back, almost rustic style, with plain wooden tables and chairs and a row of stools along the bar. Despite its simplicity, it was a place to see and be seen, and the world and his wife longed to get a table at Harry’s Bar; it was one of the requests Gina dealt with most regularly for the hotel’s guests.

‘Gina …’ Edoardo was already waiting for her. He stood up, a wide smile spreading across his angular face as she walked through the restaurant towards him. His eyes ran up and down her body, unashamedly checking her out.

‘I had to pull a few strings to get a table here at such short notice, I can tell you,’ Edoardo continued, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. He was wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned a little too low to reveal a silver chain nestled amongst a mane of chest hair, and had doused himself liberally in Acqua di Parma aftershave. He was good-looking, Gina had to admit, but not her type at all. She suspected he’d taken longer to get ready than she had.

‘You look spectacular, by the way,’ he added, leaning across to kiss her on both cheeks, one hand on her waist which lingered a moment too long.

‘Thank you,’ Gina said shortly. She was acutely aware that she didn’t want Edoardo to get the wrong idea about this meeting, but she’d already had him pegged as an incorrigible flirt.

‘You know, I’m pretty sure I saw Sylvester Stallone here once,’ Edoardo told her, glancing round the restaurant. It was at capacity and felt even busier than usual, the atmosphere lively and buzzing.

Gina wondered if she was supposed to be impressed by this possible sighting. ‘He’s stayed at the White Palace a couple of times,’ she told him.

‘Gina!’ came a cry.

She turned to see the restaurant manager, Alessandro Longo, approaching their table, and she smiled up at him in greeting.

‘How are you?’ Alessandro asked her. ‘You look wonderful. I didn’t realize you were dining with us tonight. Here, let me move you to a better table,’ he said, with a meaningful look at Edoardo.

‘No, Alessandro, you don’t need to go to any trouble …’ Gina began, mortified to realize that he thought they were on a date. ‘This is Edoardo Conti, of Elicotteri Conti. I’m working with them at the moment, through the hotel.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Edoardo.’ Alessandro shook his hand. ‘No, Gina, I insist,’ he continued, ushering them to a much quieter window table with a view of the Grand Canal, the church of Santa Maria della Salute glowing white in the darkness across the water. ‘I’ll have the waiter bring over two Bellinis right away,’ he added with a wink. ‘On the house, of course.’

‘Thanks, Alessandro.’