Page 18 of Change of Heart
Comprehension dawned on his face. ‘I see what’s happened. You’re confusing me with my twin brother. His name’s Tommaso. I’m Luca.’
Alice realised she must be coming across as a complete idiot so she dropped her eyes to the dog again, who had come over and was now resting his nose on her lap. She sat there stroking his ears while trying to make sense of what she had just learned. Twin brothers! So presumably Luca was the one who had run off and left home after a fight with his father while Tommaso had stayed at the farm. As she slowly started to process the possible ramifications of this discovery, his voice intruded on her thoughts.
‘It’s very good to see you again. Can I get you something to drink?’ From his tactful tone she got the feeling he was deliberately giving her a bit of time to sort her head out.
Finally raising her eyes from the dog once more, she did her best to sound a bit less gormless. ‘If you’re going to have something, I’d love an espresso.’ Although the way she was feeling, something stronger might have been more welcome.
‘Of course. It’ll give me a chance to show off my new coffee machine. I hope you like it.’
He went across to the corner of the room and busied himself with the coffee machine, while Alice came to terms with the fact that she was now in the same space as the man who had so unexpectedly produced that spark of attraction in her in the restaurant.
And he wasn’t Simonetta’s boyfriend after all.
As the realisation dawned on her that this meant that he wasn’t off limits after all, bewilderment was replaced by something more akin to apprehension, and the unfamiliar self-confidence she had felt the other night in the restaurant threatened to evaporate completely. He was most probably already in a relationship, but what if he wasn’t? What would happen if he asked her out? What would she say? Would it be a good idea to consider dating a member of the Montorso tribe? Would he be interested in her?
Her brain was still spinning when he came back over with two little cups of coffee.
‘Do you want sugar?’
The simple banality of the question finally shook her out of her contemplative state and she gave herself a mental kicking. She was in her thirties, not a teenager. It was about time she got a grip. She took the cup and smiled up at him.
‘No, no sugar thanks. This is very kind of you. Sorry for my moment of confusion.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s happened to me all my life. That’s the problem with having an identical twin.’ He walked back around his desk and sat down again. ‘It can have its advantages. At school, from time to time, I’d take my brother’s maths tests for him, and he’d occasionally take my place in the football team after I hurt my back. Nobody ever realised.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘Be careful, the coffee’s very hot. Now, how can I help you? I believe you told Carlo you have an old property that needs restoration.’
‘It’s not quite as simple as that. The property doesn’t belong to me, I’ve been employed to manage it.’ She took a deep breath and kept her eyes on his face as she broke the news to him. ‘It’s Varaldo castle.’ She saw his eyes widen. ‘That’s right, I’ve been employed by the Varaldo family. They intend to open the castle to the public. It’s going to need a lot of renovation and modernisation, and then of course there’ll be all sorts of bureaucratic hoops to jump through. That’s why we need a good architect, and you come very highly recommended.’
‘I do?’
She went on to tell him about her chance encounter with Signor Bolognese and this drew a smile from him, but she could see that he was hesitant. She could well imagine what must be going through his mind at being asked to work for the family who had been sworn enemies of his own family for centuries. Generations of his forefathers were probably turning in their graves just at the thought of it. There was no point in beating about the bush so she decided to tackle the subject head on.
‘As you can probably imagine, since coming here, I’ve learnt that relations between the two families are strained and have been for a long, long time. Before coming here today, I had no idea who you were, and if I had known, I probably wouldn’t have come. The last thing I want would be to put you in a difficult position or to stir up further ill feelings. Now that I know who you are, if you’d prefer not to get involved, I’ll understand perfectly, although I’m sure it’s going to be a really interesting project. If you tell me you prefer to stay out of it, I’ll finish my coffee and leave. I wouldn’t want to waste your time, but it would be great if you were prepared to consider it.’
She found herself questioning her true motives in trying to persuade this man to accept a commission which would throw him into direct conflict with his own family, even assuming that the baron would be prepared to accept help from a Montorso. She tried telling herself that it was simply because he had been personally recommended by Signor Bolognese, but she knew that wasn’t the real reason. In a moment of self-awareness, she realised that she liked this man and the idea of spending more time with him had a lot of appeal. Whether he would want to spend time with her remained to be seen and she wasn’t holding her breath. Either way, this was hardly the most professional of motives for choosing somebody to head up a project on this scale.
Seeing him looking uncertain, she went on to outline the sorts of changes she had in mind and the serious amount of input she would require from him. The more she spoke, the more interest she could see on his face. She could well imagine how appealing a major heritage project like this could be to a young architect with a relatively new business. It occurred to her that the name of the studio, LM Architects, was made up of his initials, so presumably he was the main or maybe even the only partner. Apart from anything else, a project like this could also prove to be very lucrative to him, so she had a fair idea of the sort of inner conflict he might be experiencing. When she had finished detailing how she saw the job developing, she sat back and reached for her coffee.
He didn’t reply immediately and the dog, who had been sitting happily by her side, got up and trotted across to his master to lend a bit of canine support, maybe sensing that he was struggling with a difficult decision. Finally, Luca Montorso looked up from the Labrador and nodded a couple of times.
‘First of all, thank you for coming to me about this. It certainly sounds like a fascinating project and I must admit it’s something that has considerable appeal, but I’m sure you can understand my hesitation. It’s not just a simple business decision because of the situation between the two families with which you’re already familiar,’
He hesitated and then corrected himself.
‘I’m sorry, I’m making it sound as if you’ve offered me the job already and I wouldn’t want to sound presumptuous. Why don’t I tell you a bit about my background and experience and give you my thoughts on how I feel you should proceed? If you’re interested in asking me to work with you, then I would just ask for a little bit of time to think things through and talk them over with my brother, before giving you my definite response. You don’t mind, do you? I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to sound ungrateful. Like I say, it was very good of you to come to me about this.’
Alice nodded. ‘Of course I understand, and I’d better put my cards on the table as well. Any recommendation I make will have to be ratified by the family, and it could be I’ll have a hard job to convince the baron that you’re the right person.’ She gave him a little smile. ‘Life can be very complicated at times.’
She spent almost an hour with him, going through in greater detail what she had in mind and showing him some of the photos she had taken to illustrate the current state of the building. In return, he told her about the six years he had spent working in Latina and Abruzzo, south of Rome, including iconic places like Montecassino. He also talked her through two recent heritage projects he had undertaken here in Emilia-Romagna and, in particular, he appeared to be well versed in the crippling amount of paperwork to be submitted to the relevant authorities when dealing with historic properties. He invited her to contact his previous clients in order to get references as to his ability. It certainly sounded as if he had a lot of experience and the more they talked, the more convinced she became that, irrespective of any nascent feelings she might be developing for this man she barely knew, from a work perspective LM Architects looked like they were the right people for the job.
Last of all they talked money and she was pleased to find that his rates, while certainly not cheap, compared favourably with the previous two firms she had interviewed. Without the complication of the family feud, she would have had no hesitation in offering him the job. As it was, she told him she would speak to Simonetta and promised to give him an answer the following day. As that would be Saturday, he gave her his mobile number so she could text him. If the answer was yes, at that point he told her he would sit down and talk to his brother and he promised her a reply by first thing on Monday morning.
He stood up and thanked her once more and they shook hands. Once again, his touch sent a little shockwave through her but she was better prepared this time and she managed to avoid blushing like a teenager. Before leaving she asked him something which had been puzzling her.
‘Do you still live in Varaldo? I assume you must be somewhere near there as I’ve seen you in the restaurant twice.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I live here in Parma now. If I were to return to live in Varaldo, I’d be bound to run into my father sooner or later and I never want to see him again. I don’t know if you’ve heard on the grapevine, but he and I had a major falling-out years ago and I left home for good. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him since my university days. The only reason I go back to Varaldo is because one of my best friends is Leo Chiesa, who’s taken over from his father as chef at the Casa Rosa. His father and my father don’t get on – to be honest, a lot of people don’t get on with my father – and the two of them haven’t spoken for years, so I know I’m quite safe in the restaurant. There’s no way my father would ever set foot in there and more fool him. If you haven’t already tried it, Leo and his father make the best lasagne in the world.’
He accompanied her to the door and opened it for her. She stopped and turned towards him one last time, feeling remarkably awkward. ‘Thank you for your time, Signor Montorso. I promise I’ll be in touch tomorrow.’
