‘Did you enjoy your play?’ he asked.
‘Yes, it was very good, thank you. Were you being serious about coming with me to see my project firsthand or were you just humouring me?’
‘Oh, yes. I’ll see if I can set something up in my diary, shall I?’
‘There’s a meeting with some of the residents at eight o’clock tomorrow night. That would be the best time. You could meet the people face to face, the people whose lives are going to be changed by what we’re doing. You could talk to some of them, perhaps, and get a feel for what we’re really all about.’
Before she could get going into one of those holier-than-thou moments, Rocco interrupted, ‘Fine.’ There was a local directors’ dinner planned for seven-thirty at one of the hotels, which promised to be deadly. He would scrap that and send Martins in his place. There was company involvement and then there was going beyond the bounds of duty, and chatting over some half-baked meal somewhere with people he would not be dealing with in the long-term future fell solidly into that category.
And besides…
Rocco stuck his long legs onto the window ledge and thought of one very earnest, lightly freckled face with fiery eyes and a tongue to match…
‘I’ll pick you up at your house at what…seven? Seven-thirty?’
‘There’s no need.’
‘Has your car come out of service yet? Or do you intend to let your pride push you into taking public transport?’ ‘Make it seven-fifteen.’ She gave him her address and then basic directions of how to get to her house, which was midway between his office and the city centre. ‘You will turn up, won’t you?’ she asked bluntly.
‘Oh, I’ll be there. Although…just out of curiosity, what would you do if I failed to show up?’
‘Be disappointed but not entirely shocked and I would make my own way there.’
Touché, Rocco thought, with a lazy smile.
He made arrangements for his replacement immediately and found that he was actually looking forward to trailing around the project, which would be her last.
‘You’re living in cloud-cuckoo-land if you think you stand a chance of changing the man’s mind,’ was the first thing Sam said when she telephoned him the following afternoon to tell him how she would be spending her evening.
Amy stifled a sigh of irritation and took herself off to the bathroom, phone in hand, so that she could start running a bath.
‘I prefer to be optimistic.’
‘Then brace yourself for a huge disappointment, Amy. I told you, I’ve met men like that before when I’ve been out there fund-raising.’
Amy idly thought that it was very doubtful whether he had ever met anyone like Rocco Losi in his life before, but she refrained from making the remark. She was just grateful that he had not broached the subject of what they had spoken about a few days before, respecting her desire to mull over his proposal. Which she had, in no way, mulled over.
She let him lecture to her, having lost the energy to argue back, and was thoughtful when she finally replaced the receiver fifteen minutes later and stepped into the bath.
An uneasy voice inside her head was telling her that Sam, perhaps, would not really mind that much if she lost her job, if Rocco did what he wanted to do and axed her department. Out of a job, she would be vulnerable.
Then she laughed at herself for thinking like that when she, of all people, knew just how kind-hearted a man Sam was.
Unlike Rocco Losi, who probably wouldn’t know an act of kindness if it lunged at him and grabbed him by the throat.
Half an hour till he was due to show up and, while most of her expected him to, there was still a little part gearing itself for his non-appearance. Which hardly explained why she was being a bit more careful with her appearance than she usually was.
Jeans, of course, because she would be an utter idiot to show up for a residents’ meeting on a rough council estate in a suit, but instead of her usual trainers she slung on a pair of tan loafers that were just as comfortable but somehow managed to upgrade the outfit. And she bypassed the functional baggy, cotton sweatshirt in favour of a ribbed, tight-fitting one that matched the loafers. Then she brushed her hair until it shone and dabbed on just the merest hint of lipstick.
She was ready and waiting when the doorbell rang at precisely seven-fifteen, making her think that he must be a whizz at timing his journeys.
‘Surprised to see me?’ was the first thing he asked when she swung the door open and stepped outside. It was still light, but not as warm as it had been during the day, and he was dressed casually for the weather, in some khaki trousers and a black cotton jumper. Out of his working clothes, he was even more impressive than in them, and Amy caught herself unable to speak just for a few seconds, then her thought processes swung back into gear and she quietly pulled the door shut behind her and locked it.
‘Not at all. I knew you would want to see the work we do before reaching a decision about disposing of it.’ They walked towards his car and she suddenly stopped.
‘You came in this?’ His Jaguar was like a shiny beacon among the pedestrian cars lining the kerb.
‘What else did you expect me to come in?’ Rocco asked politely. ‘A rickshaw?’
‘I didn’t think. You can’t possible drive us there in this.’
‘Why not?’ His voice was impatient but Amy remained where she was with her arms folded. ‘In case it had slipped your mind, I delivered you to the theatre in this. As far as I know, it runs perfectly smoothly. Shouldn’t be a problem getting us to wherever it is we’re going.’ She was staring at it as though it were coated in a highly infectious agent and his irritability went up a couple more notches. Weren’t women supposed to be impressed with sleek, fast motors? ‘Just get in, would you?’
‘We’re going to a deprived council estate,’ Amy explained, looking at him steadily. ‘Point one, I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to arrive in this kind of car, and point two, it’ll end up being targeted.’
‘Point three…’ Rocco looked around him as if looking for something and then repositioned his eyes firmly on her face ‘…there’s no handy replacement car waiting for us in the wings as far as I can see, so we’re just going to have to chance it. Alternatively, I could leave you here, you could make your own way to this residents’ meeting and you could forget all thoughts of me coming along with you at another time to see this project of yours.’
Which neatly tied her up.
‘Okay.’ Amy shrugged and slung open the car door. ‘But don’t blame me if something happens to it.’
‘I won’t,’ Rocco assured her, getting in and firing the engine. ‘Now, give me the directions and let’s get this over and done with.’
‘I’m not force-feeding you nasty medicine, Mr Losi…’
‘Stop calling me by my surname.’
‘Oh, sorry. Forgot. You favour the informal approach. Just follow this road straight till I tell you where to turn.’
‘If this council estate is so rough, how do you make out?’ Rocco asked curiously. The women he met were not ambitious when it came to exploring territories they were unfamiliar with. The career women moved with ease in the skyscraper jungle of New York but probably would have no idea what the other side of the tracks looked like, and the women he dated…well, he doubted any of them had ever travelled on the underground, never mind actually gone into a district that did not sport designer clothes shops and trendy restaurants. He slid a sidelong glance at the woman sitting upright next to him and was shocked to find his eyes straying downwards from her face to her breasts, which were nicely outlined against the top she was wearing.
‘I feel comfortable there. Well, most of the time. I wouldn’t be doing what I did if I was scared of venturing on a council estate.’
‘And your boyfriend doesn’t worry?’
‘Of course he doesn’t worry!’ Amy looked across at him, startled. ‘Why should he?’
‘I would have thought that might have been obvious.
His woman doing a job that took her to places where a car like this might be trashed…’
His woman. The phrase was old-fashioned, chauvinistic and staggeringly possessive. All those traits, in fact, which she positively loathed, but when spoken by him sent a little feminine shiver racing up her spine.
‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I’m not of the clinging-vine variety.’
A raging feminist, he translated in his head. Just the sort of woman he would normally do his utmost to avoid except in a boardroom where they could be as tough as any man. In a life that was intensely pressured, he preferred to relax in the company of women who didn’t demand too high a standard of conversation.
Amy was looking at him narrowly. ‘Sam knows that he doesn’t have to cluck around me like a mother hen every time I go out on a job.’
‘Even when those jobs take you to potentially dangerous areas…’
‘We’re not talking about heading off for the front line in a war zone,’ she said with heavy sarcasm and he grinned. Did he know how much younger he looked when he smiled? With those obvious looks, he probably had a high hit-rate with women and she wondered what he was like when he went into action, when he turned on the charm that was firmly reined in whenever he happened to find himself in her company. ‘Anyway, it’s just a matter of being sensible. I wouldn’t go to a meeting in the depths of winter, at night, to some of the places I would visit during the day with Freddy or Tim.’
‘Freddy being the ponytailed New Age chap who works with you?’
‘Freddy being the qualified chartered surveyor who came in the top twenty in the country when he took his final exams, yes. When you get to the next roundabout, you’ll have to take the first turning left, follow the road to the top and then keep straight on. The estate is just on the left. You can’t miss it.’
Understatement of the decade, Rocco thought. It loomed grimly threatening against a backdrop of sparse shrubbery here and there and the odd despairing tree. The sun was beginning to fade but there was no avoiding the fact that here was a collection of cell-block-like edifices, some randomly sporting graffiti, in which not much would be encouraged to thrive.
Rocco lived in an apartment, which was in a block that rose far higher than any of these concrete buildings, but there all comparison ended. He enjoyed the magnificent luxuries that only vast sums of money could buy. The twenty-four-hour porter service, the fabulous reception area on the ground floor, his own private lift, a sports complex that spanned one entire floor in which every member of staff was devoted to the comfort of their extremely wealthy tenants.
‘Where do you suggest I park?’
Amy tried not to smirk and failed. ‘The entrance is behind the estate. I did warn you about the car.’
‘Not that you would ever dream of saying I told you so.’ Rocco gave in to her victory with good grace.
He was as far out of his rarefied world as it was possible to get and he could only watch, impressed, over the next hour as she comfortably took the lead, joking easily with the gang of twelve strong teenagers who congregated around the car as soon as it was parked. She asked them what they had been up to, addressed most by name, introduced him in passing, making sure to quickly move on with the good-natured conversation before they could home in on the stranger in their midst.
He still didn’t trust them around his car, but grudgingly had to admit that they seemed more impressed than intent on inflicting damage.
Freddy and two of the other members of staff were already there and the meeting was rowdy, with strong contributions from nearly every resident who had shown up, which was in the region of eighty. Amy chaired, Marcy took notes, barely looking up to see what was going on, and as things began to wind down he heard Amy introduce him loudly to everyone.
He stood up, commanding instant attention from a silent crowd, and shot her a ‘nice one’ look to which she responded with a ‘don’t know what you mean’ flash in her eyes.
Years of experience in public speaking made him swing into action without hesitation as he took the floor. He had addressed packed halls full of the great and the good, had held meetings in which the top men in the world of business had listened attentively. Never had he addressed a crowd of mainly females, many with kids in tow, who were waiting to bombard him with every question under the sun.
And Amy had to hand it to him. He rose to the occasion. There was the odd light remark, but he spoke fluently on the need to build and look forward, to gather resources however grim the surroundings and see light at the end of a tunnel. No round of applause. That wasn’t the style of these people, but their silence was telling. Anyone less impressive would have been jeered off without a moment’s hesitation.
‘Thank you very much for that,’ he said as soon as everyone had dispersed and they were on their own again. In the space of time they had been inside, darkness had descended. The teenagers had gone and the car appeared to be in one piece, no missing wheels or hubcaps.
‘You did very well,’ Amy said truthfully.
‘And your feeling is…? Intense disappointment?’
‘Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. Do you know how to get out of here or shall I direct you?’
‘Nothing quite like enlisting one hundred per cent involvement from the unconvinced, is there?’
Amy laughed, relaxed and still on that peculiar high that she always got when she had been immersed in her work. ‘And are you convinced now? Did you mean all that stuff about aspiring to rise above surroundings and trying to build something when everything else is falling down around you? Or was it all a load of tosh because you’d been caught like a worm on a hook?’
‘What you’re planning to do isn’t going to turn that estate into a crime-free zone, full of enthusiastic, well-behaved teenagers who suddenly want to become doctors and teachers.’
‘God, why are you so cynical?’
‘I don’t call it cynical. I call it realistic. I’m taking you out for a meal. What kind of food do you enjoy eating?’
The thought of going out for something to eat with him brought an immediate feeling of excitement. It shot through her like poison. ‘Thanks, but I’d rather you just dropped me back home, actually. It’s late and I’m tired.’ She belatedly thought of Sam, dear Sam who would have a fit if he thought that she was dining out with her enemy.
‘Have you eaten?’
‘I had something a bit earlier on,’ Amy said shortly.
‘A bit earlier on…when?’
‘A bit earlier on at lunchtime, OK?’
‘Nothing since then?’
‘Look, Rocco—’ she twisted round so that she was facing him, ready for an argument to cover up the intense excitement she had felt at his average, reasonable offer to take her for something to eat and her guilt when she imagined Sam’s face should he ever find out ‘—I’m not hungry. We’ve done what we set out to do. You saw what we’re working on, you spoke to the residents, now it’s time to go home. Tomorrow I’ll put everything in a report and I hope you’ll be bothered to read it.’ Here was a man who wanted to take away everything she cared about, everything she had spent years working so hard to build up. How could she be attracted to him? How? She hated herself for her weakness, she who had always staunchly maintained that the power of physical attraction was worthless.
‘No deal,’ Rocco said calmly, following signs to the city centre.
‘No deal? How dare you?’
‘Firstly because this is my car, which I am driving, and secondly because you may not be hungry since you nibbled something several hours ago, but I most certainly am. So dinner we shall have and if you don’t state a preference…’ ah, signs to a car park ‘…then you’ll just have to fall in with me. Right now I favour Italian.’ He swung into the multistorey car park, blithely ignoring her simmering resentment at his total takeover.
‘Take me home at once!’
‘Stop behaving like a child.’
Amy spluttered, lost for words
at the sheer nerve of what he had just said.
‘I’m taking you out for dinner because neither of us has had anything to eat for hours and it’s now nine-thirty. I’m not launching a physical assault on you.’
Which sent another treacherous tingle leaping through her. ‘I don’t think Sam would like it if he knew that we were having dinner together,’ she said. He wouldn’t be jealous. That wasn’t Sam’s thing at all. He wasn’t the jealous type, which was good, she told herself, because it showed trust. No, he wouldn’t like it because he would feel that she should keep Rocco at an arm’s length. There was them and there was us, he had told her more than once. Them were all those people who couldn’t understand the importance of what they did, who thought that big business and making money were the only things worth sweating for. Rocco was definitely one of them. For Sam, the business of trying to persuade him would be acceptable. The business of fraternising with him would be a betrayal.
‘Oh?’ Rocco slotted the car neatly into a vacant space, switched off the engine and turned to her, eyebrows raised in dry enquiry. ‘But I thought that he was one of those liberal, non-possessive types who didn’t cluck around you like a mother hen?’
Amy glared at him, turned away and slammed the car door behind her as she got out.
‘Well?’ Rocco persisted in a voice that was laced with amusement.
‘I think Sam would rather I were having dinner with him,’ Amy said, head held high.
‘That could be easily arranged. Why don’t you call him and invite him along for the ride? Better still, I could call him just in case he got the mistaken impression that I might not welcome his company. In fact…’ Rocco flicked his cell phone out of his pocket ‘…I would love to meet your boyfriend. I have always found that it’s a good idea to get to know more than just the superficial details of my employees. Makes them three-dimensional, real people instead of just faceless worker bees…’
The Italian Tycoon's Mistress Page 5
