Page 27 of His Two Hidden Masks

“I understand that our core business is hospitality,” I said, talking faster. People were enjoying my caramels. Knowing this gave me a burst of optimism, as surely the board would approve my modest ask.

“Every candy is made with care, and with a modest investment, we can create a way for the tourists who come to our gilded city to take home a piece of Venice.”

James reached out and unwrapped another caramel. I noted that his entire team was now eating caramels. In fact, they’d gone for second and third pieces, based on the diminishing pile of candies in front of them. I almost smiled, but kept my expression neutral and professional.

“I also have plans to upgrade the packaging with themed boxes to highlight our locations across Italy. Tourists will essentially purchase advertisements from us, which they will take home and share with their friends.”

I had a mock-up of the box in my room. I swayed on my borrowed high heels, watching the door. Lissa walked in holding a stack of black-and-white and jewel- toned boxes in her hands.

As the door closed behind her, there was Leo, bent at the waist with his hands on his knees right outside. He looked red-faced, as though he had run here. He probably had.

A surge of gratitude moved through me. Leo had made it. I waved to Lissa as she approached. “Instead of giving the sample boxes to me, please pass them around the table. Thank you, Lissa.”

I picked up one of the boxes and held it up to showcase the design detail.

“You can see that the classic black, white, and red box features the famous dual masks of Carnival. And when you openthe lid, there is a map of Venice on the underside, highlighting the hotel and restaurant.

Over time, you can imagine that we can create these for all of our locations,” I said. “For now, we focus on Venice and Carnival.”

“Thank you, Isabella,” my father interrupted, placing both hands on the table in front of him.

“Oh, of course, thank you for your time,” I said. Turning to my father I coughed to mask my fluster. “Should we proceed with a verbal vote?”

“No,” my father said. “I do not see this as a core tenant of our business, Isabella. We are not voting today.” My father’s words were a direct contradiction to the energy and momentum in the room.

I looked around the table, my pulse thumping. Lissa stood by the breakfast table; hands clasped in front of her. My mother’s expression unreadable, she stared at my father.

In fact, there were smiles up and down the table. Everyone was enjoying the samples, but per usual, my father, Umberto Uzano, would be the decider of my fate, and Papa had not eaten a single piece of candy. My optimism burst and sank like a stone deep in my belly.

“Isabella, I appreciate the time and energy you have put into this little endeavor,” he said, his voice weary. The word “little” stung. I held my smile steady, but knew I had lost.

“This is not a core business. It is a distraction. My answer today is, no. And onto the Street acquisition. We have much to discuss.”

He dismissed me with a perfunctory nod. There was a murmur as the rejection rippled through the room. I took a breath still holding my fucking smile.

I was getting so good at pretending it wasn’t humiliating to have all my hard work reduced to a “little endeavor.”I was practiced at pretending it didn’t hurt that my father chose Roberto over me. And today I mastered masking the awkwardness of sharing oxygen with the man who had made me come three times last night.

My father continued with his agenda. “We are voting today on formally partnering with Street Entertainment. James, can you please share your perspective on why this is a good opportunity with the board?”

James cleared his throat and stood. “Thank you, Isabella, and these are delicious.” He paused to place a caramel wrapper on the table. “I also agree with your father, that they are not the core business.”

His words punched my already pummeled body. My cheeks burned with humiliation. I concentrated on keeping my lips turned upward as I navigated the long walk around the table and back to my seat.

“The beauty of what the Uzano family has built is just that, a family business.” James stood at the front of the room. Hands in his pockets, he looked totally at ease.

“Your portfolio of properties have heart. You are well established in some of the most charming cities in Italy, and your brand evokes a feeling of comfort and elegance that has built you a baseline of loyal guests. But,” James nodded toward his team, the lights dimmed, and the Power Point presentation began.

“Your guests are aging, and you are not connecting with younger travelers who are focused on value and a more contemporary elegance. These travelers don’t value grandmother’s porcelain plates.”

There was a bit of laughter. I sat down. In front of me was a tea cup that was most definitely my grandmother’s porcelain. My vision swirled as tears filled my eyes. I dug my fingernails into my palm to keep them from spilling over.

Auntie Aurora leaned over. “You will get your day. The cards have shown me.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” I whispered, cutting her off. I knew she meant well, but I couldn’t take any encouragement from the physical or spirit world today. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

James continued his revelations around our shrinking customer base and the investment required across our locations for a clientele that expected not just WIFI, but internet connectivity broad enough to enable streaming.

Guests expected apps to make online booking easier, which demanded an investment in technology. James detailed the cost per location for upgrading each room, preserving old world elegance, but adding clean lines and simplicity. He talked about making changes to the menus for room service and the restaurants, focusing on Mia Sorella.

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