Best of Bosses 2008: In Bed With Her Italian Boss\Taken by Her Greek Boss\Blind Date With the Boss (7 page)

‘Thank you for playing for me,' she said.

‘Well, I guess you earned it. Seeing as you passed your exams.' He smiled. ‘And I'm glad you came to tell me.'

‘Even though, strictly speaking, it could've waited until
tomorrow,' she admitted. ‘But you believed in me, Gio. I couldn't wait tell you.' She took a deep breath. ‘Actually, what I'd intended to do was drag you off to a bar and buy you a glass of champagne to celebrate.'

‘That's very sweet of you.'

At his tone, Fran felt her stomach swoop. Oh, no. Now he'd think she was trying to hit on him. And he was going to be kind about it and refuse very politely.

‘But I think champagne is overrated. There's way too much snobbery about a few bubbles in some wine. I'd rather have a good Margaux any day. Or there's this amazing Sicilian red wine Netti found that actually tastes of chocolate. It's fabulous with puddings.' He switched off the computer. ‘Have you eaten yet?'

‘No.'

‘Good. Do you like dim sum?'

She nodded.

‘Then how about we swap the champagne for Chinese food?'

‘Don't tell me.' She rolled her eyes. ‘You know the best Chinese in London, and it's something to do with your family?'

He laughed. ‘Yes to the first, no to the second. Actually, there were a couple of things I wanted to run by you.'

‘So we might as well multi-task it.' She threw his favourite phrase back at him.

‘We want to celebrate your exam. We both need to eat.' He spread his hands. ‘And we can talk at the same time, can we not?'

 

Jasmine tea really hadn't been the way Fran had intended celebrating, but when they were seated in the restaurant, having chosen a mixture of dishes to share, she realised that this was just about perfect.

‘So, what did you want to run by me?' she asked.

‘We're just about into week four of your trial. Which is practically a month.' His eyes glittered. ‘We said a month's trial, with a week's notice on either side.'

Fran went cold. Her boss had told her about the studio merger over lunch. Was Gio about to tell her that he'd changed his mind
about her working with him, over dinner? Was this going to be her week's notice?

Then her rational side kicked in. They were celebrating her exam results. And he wouldn't have suggested having dinner or said that he had some things to run by her if he was about to terminate her contract. ‘So we did,' she agreed coolly, and sipped her jasmine tea.

If he noticed that the bowl clattered when she returned it to the saucer, he didn't comment. ‘I'm happy with the way things are going. What about you?'

She nodded. ‘I'm enjoying the work and I like the staff.'

‘So can we consider you a permanent member of the team, now? Don't look so worried,' he added.

‘I wasn't worried,' she fibbed.

‘Then you'll stay?'

‘Yes.'

‘Good.'

 

That was the first hurdle over with. Now for the biggie. Gio decided to wait until they were eating and Fran had filled her bowl with choice morsels.

‘There was something else.'

‘What?' She paused with the chopsticks held over her bowl.

‘You know my grandmother's coming over from Milan at the weekend?'

She nodded.

‘It's for our family birthdays.'

She frowned. ‘Birth
days
? Sorry, I'm not with you. Are you saying you have an official birthday as well as a normal one—like the Queen?'

He choked. ‘Not
quite.
My sisters and I,' he said, doing his best impersonation of the Queen's opening to her Christmas speech, ‘well, our birthdays are all within a fortnight of each other. Four family parties in that short a space of time is a bit excessive, even for my family. So we tend to celebrate them all at one really big family party.'

‘Makes sense. Though I do hope you celebrate individually, as well.'

‘Yes.' Well, the girls did. He hadn't bothered, the last couple of years, though he'd invented dinner out with friends so his parents wouldn't worry about him. ‘I was wondering if you're busy, a week on Saturday. If you'd like to come to the party.'

Her eyes widened, but he couldn't quite read her expression: horror or delight?

‘Me?' she asked.

Surprise, then. Well, he could work with surprise. ‘Yup. I can guarantee the food'll be good.'

‘And your birthday is when, exactly?'

He coughed. ‘In the next fortnight.'

‘That's approximate. I asked for exact.'

‘Are you coming to the party?' he asked, trying to evade the question.

‘Are you going to tell me when your birthday is?'

He scooped more food into his bowl. ‘You're not supposed to answer a question with a question. It's rude.'

She smiled at him. ‘Of course, as the office manager, I have access to the personnel records. So if you don't tell me, I can simply go into the system and look it up for myself.'

‘That,' Gio said, ‘is flagrant abuse under the Data Protection Act, Francesca Marsden. It's
illegal
.'

‘I could still do it. Or…I could ask your mother.' Fran was inexorable.

He knew when he was beaten. He leaned back in his chair. ‘All right. It's next Wednesday.'

‘Thank you.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I think it's your turn to answer the question.'

‘Thank you for the invitation.'

He really couldn't tell if her answer was going to be yes or no, and he was shocked by the way his skin suddenly felt too tight. It really shouldn't matter whether she said yes or no.

But it did.

It mattered a lot.

He wanted her there.

‘I'd love to come,' she said softly.

Which was when Gio realised that he'd actually been holding his breath.

Oh, lord. He was already in way too deep.

‘What's the dress code?' she asked.

He spread his hands. ‘Whatever. It's a party. Wear what you want.'

She rolled her eyes. ‘
Men
. Do I have to ask your mother?'

‘I'm beginning to think,' Gio said, ‘that's you're just as scary as Mum, Nonna and Netti rolled into one.' But she'd said yes, so far.

Would she say yes to the next question?

‘There's, um, a bit more.' He took a deep breath. So much for thinking he'd felt tense before. What he was feeling right at that moment was G-force tension—the sort you got on one of those rollercoasters that sent you round a corkscrew spiral and then round a series of loops. ‘I love my grandmother.'

Her smile definitely said,
I already know that. Are you going batty or something?

‘And because she lives in Italy, I don't get to see as much of her as I'd like. I speak to her a couple of times a week, but it's not the same as seeing her.'

Fran stopped eating, rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her linked hands. ‘It's not like you to beat about the bush. What's up?'

There wasn't an easy way to put it. And however he phrased it, it was going to sound wrong. ‘You know my family has this thing about wanting me to settle down—especially Nonna?'

‘Ye-es.'

She sounded extremely cautious, and Gio just knew she was going to say no. But he asked anyway. ‘Would you pretend to be my girlfriend while Nonna's in England?'

‘L
ET
me get this straight.' Fran wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. ‘You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend while your grandmother's visiting.'

He nodded. ‘No strings. If you say no, that's fine—it won't change anything between us at work.'

‘Why on earth do you need a pretend girlfriend?' Gio was gorgeous enough to have women lining up to be the real thing. If they could put up with his working hours and always having second place in his life to Giovanni's, that was. Which was exactly why she'd never have a relationship with Gio for real: she wanted to come first.

‘I told you, I'm not looking for a relationship right now. But…' He raked a hand through his hair. ‘There isn't an easy way to put this.'

‘Try starting at the beginning,' she suggested.

‘Just don't get offended by anything I'm about to say. Please.' He sighed. ‘My mother doesn't believe you're just my office manager. So she and Netti have been talking to Nonna—who now thinks that you're my secret girlfriend. And when Nonna rang me last night…I don't think I've ever heard her so happy at the idea I've finally found someone and settled down.' He pushed his bowl away. ‘Bottom line—I can tell her the truth and make her believe it, but it's going to hurt her terribly. She's only staying for a few weeks. And…' he looked away ‘…this is going to
make me sound either like a sentimental fool or incredibly morbid, but Nonna's not going to be around for ever.'

She knew exactly what he meant. ‘And you want to make her happy while you still have the chance.'

He nodded. ‘I'm the only one of my generation who isn't settled down. Even Marcie—my youngest sister—is engaged. All my cousins are married, mostly with children or planning them.'

‘So all the pressure's on you to follow suit.'

He sighed. ‘Yup.'

‘This isn't the right thing to do, Gio. If we pretend we're an item while your grandmother's here, what happens when she goes back to Milan?'

‘I haven't thought that far ahead,' he admitted. ‘We can split up gracefully—it'll be my fault because you can't stand me being a workaholic, or something like that. And then we can get back to normal.' He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Look, I'm trying to buy some time. And there isn't much. Nonna's going to be here in two days.'

‘I've worked with you for nearly a month. And I've never seen you panic,' Fran said thoughtfully. ‘You're panicking now.'

‘Because I can't see a way out of this without shattering Nonna's illusions. Hurting her. Which I really,
really
, don't want to do. She's special to me, Fran. She's always been there for me. Listened to me when I wanted to talk about things I couldn't tell my parents.'

She frowned. ‘Gio, this is the twenty-first century. It's perfectly OK to be single, you know.'

‘Not according to my family.' He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘And I've already disappointed them enough.'

Fran guessed immediately what the root of that particular worry was. And why it was so important to him to please his family now. She reached across the table and took his hand. ‘Listen to me, Giovanni Mazetti. You're not a disappointment to your family. Look at you: twenty-eight years old, and you've built your dad's business into a chain with the plan to expand it even more. And you were
not
responsible for your dad's heart attack.
It could have happened any time—even if he'd been sitting down relaxing at home that evening, it could still have happened.'

Gio didn't look in the slightest bit convinced.

‘Gio, you went to the concert because that was the right thing for you to do at the time—if you hadn't gone, you'd have disappointed your teacher and your family because you hadn't tried, and you'd have spent the rest of your life wondering if you were good enough.'

He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug.

She squeezed his hand. ‘I mean it, Gio. It was the right thing to do, to go. And you
were
good enough. You could've made a career in music, if you'd wanted to. But you gave it up for your family. You put their needs before your own. So no way have you disappointed them. If anything, they probably feel guilty that you gave up your music for them—and I bet they think you've sacrificed your personal life, as well as your dreams, to run the business.'

Gio was silent.

‘It's true,' she said gently. ‘That's why they fuss about you so much. They love you and they worry about you and they want the best for you. So don't be so hard on yourself.'

‘Hmm.' He looked her straight in the eye. ‘So was that a yes or a no?'

‘Yes or no to what?' a voice enquired next to them.

Gio looked up and groaned. ‘I don't
believe
this! Why is it, everywhere I go, I run into one of my family?'

‘Because we're on a mission to take over London and call it Mazettiville,' the man said with a grin. ‘Imagine how many of us there'll be in our children's generation. Or our grandchildren's. Or our great-grandchildren's.'

‘That's too scary to think about.' Gio rolled his eyes. ‘Fran, this is my cousin Ricardo—Netti's eldest son. Everyone calls him Ric. Ric, this is Fran.'

‘Pleased to meet you, Fran.' Ric eyed their joined hands. ‘Hmm. I'd heard the rumour. I thought your mum was just hoping a bit too hard. But obviously the family grapevine was right, this time.'

‘Oh, for pity's sake…' Gio began.

Fran laughed. ‘So much for trying to keep things quiet. Pleased to meet you, too, Ric. And, yes, I'm Gio's girlfriend.'

Gio gave her a grateful look. ‘As well as my office manager. But relationships at work are a seriously bad idea, so we were trying to keep it to ourselves.'

‘You're on a losing streak there, because your mother has spies all over London. Not to mention Nonna's network,' Ric said, laughing. ‘So does this mean you're going to announce your engagement at the party?'

‘Engagement?'
Gio looked utterly stunned. He dragged in a breath. ‘
Porca miseria
, Ric! You'll have me married with twins next.'

‘Nothing wrong with being married with twins,' Ric returned equably. ‘In case he hasn't told you, Fran, I have twin boys. Patrizio and Oliviero. They were three last month.'

‘I have twin brothers,' she said. ‘They're two years younger than I am.'

‘So twins run in your family, too?' He smiled at Fran. ‘I should warn you—there are rather a lot of us. Though no doubt you'll be meeting us all next weekend at the party.'

‘So Gio tells me.' She smiled back. ‘And you've escaped tonight for a romantic meal with your wife?'

He nodded. ‘It's our wedding anniversary.'

‘I did send you a card,' Gio said, lifting one hand to forestall a protest.

‘And flowers. Which Alison really appreciated.'

‘I most certainly did.' A woman joined them and ruffled his hair. ‘Thank you, sweetheart. Hello, you must be Fran.'

‘Oh, man. Can't I have a romantic meal in peace without my cousins coming over to interfere?' Gio asked plaintively.

‘Not when it's the first girlfriend we've heard of in five years. Of course we want to check her out,' Alison said with a grin. ‘Fran, it's so nice to meet you. I've already heard a lot about you.'

‘From Angela?' Fran guessed.

‘Yes.' Alison smiled. ‘The family network can seem a bit overpowering at first—but don't worry, you'll soon get used to
it. They only do it because they love each other. Gio's primed you about the party?'

Fran nodded. ‘Except the dress code—which he said is “whatever”.'

‘Men!' Alison rolled her eyes. ‘The men try and get away with looking as casual as they can, but the women go dressy. Definitely high heels—oh, and you can make your man buy you a
seriously
expensive bag to go with your outfit.'

Ric groaned. ‘I take it that was a hint to me, too?'

‘Oh, honey. How
sweet
of you to offer,' Alison teased. ‘I'll call Bella and we'll go shopping tomorrow. Gio's middle sister is a handbag fiend,' she confided to Fran.

Gio gently disentangled his hand from Fran's and covered his face. ‘I can't cope with you lot. I think I'm going to run away.'

‘No, you're not,' Ric said. ‘We know exactly where to find you. You'll be in the Charlotte Street café at six o'clock tomorrow morning.'

‘Seven, actually,' Gio corrected, lifting his head and looking his cousin in the eye. ‘Stop stirring.'

‘As late as
seven
?' Ric pantomimed amazement. ‘Fran, you've just earned yourself a zillion brownie points with Angela. And…' Ric glanced at his watch. ‘Yep. You've got him out of the office a good hour earlier than usual. Make that two zillion points.'

‘Don't you dare report this,' Gio said.

‘Too late,' Alison told him with a wink. ‘I've already texted Jude. But we'll leave you in peace now.'

‘In peace? Chance would be a fine thing,' Gio grumbled, but he smiled.

‘Happy anniversary,' Fran said.

‘Thanks.' Alison tucked her arm through Ric's. ‘Now stop annoying your poor cousin and let him have his romantic dinner out. Which is what we're supposed to be doing, too,' she reminded her husband. ‘See you later, Fran—Gio.'

‘I'm
so
sorry about my family,' Gio said when his cousins had returned to their own table. ‘They just…take over. They'll be impossible at the party. You won't get a second's peace.' He shook
his head. ‘OK. This is what we do. I'll tell a white lie on the night and say you weren't able to come because you have a migraine.'

Fran smiled. ‘It won't alter a thing. They'll all drop in to Charlotte Street, the same way your mum did, to check me out. One after another. It's probably easier to get it all over with in one go.'

‘Are you sure about this?' Gio asked.

‘I just told your cousins I was your girlfriend,' she pointed out. ‘So it's a bit too late to back out, now.'

‘I could kiss you,' Gio said, his tone heartfelt.

She had to drag her gaze away from his mouth. Because it was all too easy to imagine what it would feel like if Gio kissed her. His lips would be warm and sweet and teasing, coaxing a response from her until heat flared between them.

Until they couldn't stand any more barriers between them and had to be skin to skin.

The ultimate in closeness.

His body sliding into hers.

Oh, lord. She was going to start hyperventilating in a minute.

‘Have I told you lately that you're wonderful?' he asked.

‘No.'

‘Well, you are. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.'

‘Just as long as nobody gets hurt,' she warned.

‘They won't. OK, we're not telling the truth, but it's for a good reason. It's to stop Nonna getting hurt in the first place.' He topped up their jasmine tea and lifted his bowl. ‘Well, here's to us.'

‘To us,' she echoed.

 

On Friday morning, while Gio was at the coffee supplier's, Fran intended to make a few phone calls. But Gio's mother beat her to the first one.

By the time she came off the phone, after promising to go over for Sunday lunch, she was beginning to wonder quite what she'd let herself in for. But she wasn't going to renege on her promise to help him. It didn't take her long to sort out the rest of the arrangements. And, best of all, absolutely everyone agreed to be sworn to secrecy.

This, she thought, was going to be Gio's best birthday in years.

Gio picked her up on Sunday morning at eleven. ‘Are you sure you're up to this, Fran? I'll do my best to protect you, but I think you're in for a grilling.'

‘Relax. I've already met your mum.' And plotted something with her—not that she was going to let Gio know about that yet. That was a delicious secret she was going to keep to herself. ‘It's going to be fine.'

Though the butterflies in her stomach were stomping rather than dancing when Gio parked outside his parents' house.

Relax. This isn't for real, she reminded herself. It doesn't matter if they decide you're not good enough for Gio, because it's not as if you're planning to get married. This is just temporary. Acting a part.

And then they were right in the thick of things—in a houseful of people. Gio started on the introductions. ‘Fran, you already know my mum. This is my dad, Giovanni Mazetti the elder.'

‘Less of this “elder” business,' Giovanni said, giving his son a pained look. ‘I'm not a pensioner
yet.
'