his pensive mood. ‘I know it might seem a little insensitive that I am going on a cruise so soon after your father is gone, but it was booked some time ago.’
Dante said nothing rather than lie. Privately he thought it was too soon for her to be kicking up her heels, even if they had been divorced. He also found it no coincidence that she was leaving two weeks before the ball, and not arriving back until the day after. When his parents had been married, his mother had loved nothing more than the preparations and the heightened press interest as the date of the lavish event approached.
‘Is she going to the ball?’ Angela suddenly asked, and Dante knew his mother referred to Mia.
‘I am not sure.’
‘Really,’ Angela said, ‘Mia should have the decency to stay away. And who would escort her? If she goes it will just make everyone feel uncomfortable.’
‘My father was specific in his request that all of his family attend. Technically, Mia is the hostess of the event.’
‘You haven’t put that on the invitations?’
‘No.’
Dante was in little doubt that his mother was envisioning her own return as hostess at future events so he moved to change the subject. ‘So, who are you going on the cruise with?’
‘Just a friend.’ Angela shrugged.
‘More than a friend perhaps?’ Dante probed.
‘I am seeing someone,’ she finally admitted. ‘You might even remember him. Mr Thomas, your old—’
‘My English tutor.’ Dante pushed out a smile.
‘How do you know it was him?’
‘I saw you together,’ Dante said. ‘And I thought I recognised him. He’s a nice man, from what I remember.’
‘Yes, we ran into each other a few months ago. He asked how you were and we got talking...’ She looked worried. ‘You’re not cross?’
‘Why would I be cross? It’s time for you to be happy.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, and stood up. ‘Is Stefano here?’
‘He’s at a very long lunch with Eloa,’ Dante said, and rolled his eyes. ‘I doubt he’ll be back.’
When his mother left he sat a while and, despite the smile he had given, Dante wasn’t sure he believed that they had only bumped into each other a few months ago.
He’d always felt lied to and, since his father’s death, more and more he was starting to see why.
‘Dante.’ Sarah knocked on his door and he told her to come in. ‘Matteo Castello called and asked to speak with you. I said you were in a meeting.’
‘What did he want?’ Dante frowned, because the Castellos, though not rivals—not even close—were not his choice of people.
‘It’s for a reference.’
His frown deepened, because Sarah looked a touch uncomfortable. ‘You’re not jumping ship?’
‘No, no.’ She smiled. ‘It is Mia he is calling about. Matteo is considering her for the role of his executive assistant in London.’
Well, well, Dante thought. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘Oh, and speaking of Mia,’ Sarah added, ‘she still hasn’t RSVP’d for the ball.’
Dante gave a dismissive wave. ‘Not my problem.’
God alone knew, though, it was his main problem!
Dante badly wanted Mia to come to the Romano ball so he would have the chance to see her again and hopefully...
Yet Mia still hadn’t responded.
‘Right, I’m off,’ Sarah said.
‘It’s only three!’
‘Dante!’
Oh, yes, his Christmas present for Sarah had been a long weekend for her and her husband at La Fiordelise and she’d chosen to take it this coming weekend.
‘Fine.’ Dante sulked.
Everyone was at it.
Everyone except him, since Mia.
Dante could not get her out of his head and the thought of being with anyone else had lost its usual appeal.
He set off his Newton’s cradle, and watched the silver balls clack, clack, clack as his own ached.
Ms Prim would disapprove of that, Dante thought, and then the memory of her uptight expressions made him smile.
But the smile was wiped from his face when he thought of her working for Castello.
When Sarah had gone, Dante reached for his phone, but instead of calling Castello it was Mia’s number he pulled up. It had been a couple of weeks since their last, brief conversation and she answered promptly. ‘Mia speaking.’
‘Mia, it’s Dante.’ He felt the tense silence for a moment before continuing. ‘I’ve been asked by Castello to provide a reference for you. Is this some sort of joke?’
‘Why would it be a joke?’ Mia responded tartly. She had been caught off guard, and had answered the phone without looking, hoping it was news about her job. That it was Dante calling had sideswiped her, but she reminded herself she was no longer Rafael’s