Modern Romance May 2017 Books 5 – 8. Louise Fuller

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      ‘I hear it will soon be under new ownership,’ Gabi said.

      ‘Yes, Alim is bringing potential buyers through over the weekend.’

      ‘He’s here?’ Gabi squeaked, and then quickly recovered. Her voice had sounded too urgent, her words a demand, and she fought to relax herself. ‘I thought that he was back in the Middle East?’

      ‘For the most part he is there,’ Marianna agreed. ‘But this an important weekend. Today Signor Raul Di Savo is in residence and has free rein to look around; tomorrow it will be Signor Bastiano Conti.’

      Gabi felt her heart sink a little. Hotels often took ages to sell but these were two serious names in the industry. Matrimoni di Bernadetta had held many weddings at Raul’s boutique hotel here in Rome, and Gabi knew that Bastiano was also a formidable player in the industry.

      ‘If you come across either of them, please be polite,’ Marianna said.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘They may have questions for you.’

      Gabi nodded.

      ‘And, please, ensure that all deliveries are discreet and that there is minimal disturbance to our guests. Alim is soon to marry so he wants the Grande Lucia off his hands as quickly as possible.’

      Gabi just sat there.

      She had read about it, of course, but it hurt to hear it voiced.

      Even Alim had said that they could only last for a year because he had commitments back home.

      How she wished they had had that year.

      Or maybe not, Gabi thought as she sat there, trying to fathom being closer to him than she had been that night, knowing him more, loving him more...

      For, yes, despite the anger and pain, Gabi now knew that it was love.

      At least on her side.

      ‘Gabi?’ Marianna frowned because it was clear their meeting was over yet Gabi had made no move to leave. ‘Was there anything else?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’

      There could be no hope for them.

      * * *

      It was a very busy day spent liaising with the florists and soothing a temperamental head chef when she informed him that there had been some last-minute food preferences called in.

      ‘I already have the updated list,’ he told her.

      ‘No,’ Gabi said. ‘There are more.’

      A lot more.

      And the head chef was not happy, declaring, as if it were her fault, that the world had gone gluten-free.

      The gowns and outfits arrived and it was for Gabi to organise that tomorrow they would be sent to the correct suites.

      She spoke with the make-up artist and hairdressers too, ensuring that every detail for tomorrow was in place.

      Oh, she was tired, and there was still so much to be done.

      Gabi headed to the ballroom to check on the set-up.

      ‘There are some more changes to be made to the seating,’ Bernadetta said by way of greeting. ‘The ex-wife doesn’t want to be near the aunt...’

      Gabi sighed; she had been working on the seating into the small hours of last night and the bride constantly rang in her changes.

      ‘I’ll leave you to take it from here,’ Bernadetta told Gabi. She didn’t even pretend now to be sick, or to be meeting with a client. She simply waltzed off and left it all to Gabi.

      It was late Friday afternoon and most people were just finishing up for the weekend yet Gabi’s work had barely begun. Bernadetta would appear tomorrow, around eleven, just as the guests started to arrive.

      One benefit of Bernadetta being gone, though, was that she could take off her shoes, which Gabi did; the high heels were not ideal and after a day of wearing them her back was starting to ache.

      This weekend would be, Gabi was sure, her last real chance to tell Alim she was pregnant before the baby was born. Matrimoni di Bernadetta did not have another wedding at the Lucia for three months. She would have had her baby by then and the Grande Lucia could well be sold.

      Gabi honestly did not know what to do.

      His power scared her and, if she was honest, Alim’s cruel dismissal still angered her; furthermore, he had made it very clear that he did not want any consequence from that night.

      A kick beneath her ribs made Gabi smile.

      As tiny as her baby was, it certainly made itself known.

      At her ultrasound, Gabi had chosen not to find out what she was having. Not because she wasn’t curious, more she did not want the baby’s sex to have any bearing on the conversation, if she told Alim.

      If she told him.

      She was still troubled and unsure as to what to do.

      Gabi stood in the ballroom and looked at the shower of stars that the chandelier created and recalled the bliss of dancing right here, alone with Alim, and how deeply happy she had been that night.

      It brought her such pleasure to recall it.

      The photographer had not forgotten and indeed the image of the two of them that night now lived on her tablet. It had been her screensaver for a while but that had proved too painful, so she had taken it down and now Gabi barely looked at it.

      It had always hurt too much to do so, but time perhaps was kind, because Gabi hadn’t really been able to recall, with clarity, the bliss of them together.

      Until now.

      But on this afternoon, with her baby wriggling inside her, she remembered how the shadows of the branches outside had crept across the walls, how Alim had, without a word, asked her to dance.

      Yes, Gabi was a dreamer, but it was a memory that she was lost in now.

      And that was how he found her.

      * * *

      It had been a busy day for Alim.

      And a hellish few months.

      His sister Yasmin had created her own share of scandal at the wedding all those months ago, and Alim had been trying his best to sort that out.

      Also, he had known the moment that diktat had been invoked that it would be impossible to be around Gabi and not want her. He took the laws of his land seriously. Now he walked into the ballroom with the first of the potential buyers and there was Gabi, holding her shoes and gazing up.

      It was safer, far safer that she be gone.

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