Читать книгу Seduced By The Tycoon At Christmas - Pamela Yaye - Страница 13

Chapter 4

“I come bearing gifts,” Jiovanni announced, poking his head inside the door of Zoe’s office on Thursday afternoon. Wearing a broad grin, his eyes alight with mischief, he strolled inside the room clutching a wine bottle in one hand and a garment bag in the other. “After that staff meeting from hell this morning, I figured you could use a pick-me-up, so I brought you a snack.”

Hard at work at her desk, Zoe glanced up from the field sales report she was reading and put down her yellow highlighter. “When did Chianti become an afternoon snack?”

“When Aurora announced that Casa Di Moda was floundering and had the nerve to ask us to save it.” His smile disappeared, and a frown crimped his lips. “I almost fell off my chair when she said profits were down eighteen percent from last year. Of course they’re down! What does she expect? She’s controlling as hell and stifling everyone’s creativity.”

All afternoon, Zoe had been holed up in her office, blogging, tweeting and posting about the premiere of Amore in Tuscany at Anteo spazioCinema. The response to her online messages on the Casa Di Moda social media pages was so overwhelming, Zoe knew the event was going to be a success. Celebrities would be in attendance, on hand to mingle with fans and pose for pictures. Zoe was pleased her hard work was paying off. She’d been promoting the event for weeks, and was confident her industry friends would come through for her in a big way at the premiere. In a good mood, she didn’t want to rehash what had happened at the staff meeting, but it was obvious Jiovanni needed to vent. She set aside her report and gave him her full attention, even though she had a million things to do before calling it quits for the day.

“I’m so angry, I could punch something.” Jiovanni put the wine bottle on the mahogany end table and chucked the garment bag on one of the velvet chairs. “My opinions and ideas aren’t valued here, and it’s frustrating.”

Zoe wore a sympathetic smile. “I hear you, J, and I know how you feel.”

“This goes down on record as being one of the worst days of my life,” Jiovanni confessed, plopping down on the edge of the desk, his shoulders hunched in defeat. “And it’s Aurora and Davide’s fault. If they respected their staff, instead of treating us like a bunch of dumb schmucks fresh out of fashion school, Casa Di Moda wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Don’t hold back,” she joked, hoping to make her best friend laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Hanging his head, he rubbed at his eyes. “For the last nine years, I’ve given everything to Casa Di Moda, and now I have nothing to show for it.”

Filled with compassion, Zoe rose to her feet and came around her desk. “Don’t say things like that.” To comfort him, she rubbed his back. “All isn’t lost. We’ll help Aurora turn things around, and this time next year, Casa Di Moda will be more popular than ever.”

“How? How can we make a difference when Aurora is stubborn, and closed-minded?” His voice was resigned, and his expression was grim. “I want answers, Zoe. Tell me how we fix things. How do we save this company and our careers?”

Stumped, Zoe didn’t know what to say in response. Seconds passed, but nothing came to mind. Her thoughts returned to the staff meeting, and Zoe mentally reviewed everything that was said and done inside the conference room.

“I thought so. You don’t know what to do, either.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but I’m not giving up. I’m committed to Casa Di Moda, and I want to see it succeed.”

Jiovanni spoke through clenched teeth. “And I don’t?”

Silence descended on the room.

“What happened this morning?” Zoe asked, still bothered by his lack of support at the staff meeting. Educated and well-read, Jiovanni had an opinion about everything, so his silence during the discussion had bothered her. “Why did you leave me hanging? Why didn’t you say anything when I lobbied for a plus-size line to be added to the holiday collection?”

“Because I knew Aurora would never go for it. You don’t think I’ve tried to talk to her about expanding the woman’s line a million times before? Well, I have, and the last time I submitted a detailed proposal, she tossed it in the trash.” Jiovanni dusted his hands, as if they were covered in sand, and fervently shook his head. “Zoe, I don’t know about you or anyone else on this sinking ship, but I’m done.”

Zoe raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“That it’s time I branched out and did my own thing in the fashion world.”

“But you don’t have enough money saved up yet to rent a space,” she reminded him, recalling the conversation they had weeks earlier about his long-term goals.

“I know, but I’m sick of twiddling my thumbs. I’m just as talented as Aurora, and if I work my ass off, Designs by Jiovanni will be a household name in no time.”

“I believe in you, J. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

Seizing Zoe’s hand, Jiovanni pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest. He danced around the room, expertly dodging the furniture, then lifted her up in the air. “Jiovanni, stop!” she yelled, scared he’d lose his footing and drop her on the carpet. She’d taken two Asprin at lunch, and her ankle wasn’t hurting her anymore, but she didn’t want to do anything to aggravate it. “What are you doing? This isn’t Milan Dance Championship and you’re not a professional dancer, so put me down right now.”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” he repeated, flashing a toothy smile. “I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman in Milan, and it’s the best feeling in the world.”

Zoe sighed in relief when her feet touched the ground. She swatted his shoulder. “Don’t do that again. I almost had a heart attack when you picked me up, and I’m only thirty-two!”

“Quit playing. You know you loved it.” Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her forehead. “I love holding you in my arms, Zoe. You know that.”

His fingers grazed her forearm. He was too close for comfort, moving nearer to her, and Zoe feared he was going to do something crazy like kiss her. That would ruin everything. They were friends and nothing more. She didn’t want a romantic relationship with Jiovanni. Not today, not ever. Feeling trapped, she ducked under his arms and slid behind one of the chairs.

Her computer pinged, informing her that she had a new email message, and Zoe returned to her desk. These days Jiovanni was more flirtatious than ever, and she wondered if it had anything to do with his longtime girlfriend dumping him weeks earlier. To cheer him up she’d brought him home-cooked meals, wine and an armload of action movies.

“You and I make a great couple.”

His gaze bore down on her, and a lascivious grin spread across his mouth.

“Everyone thinks so, even my nonna, and she’s never liked any of my girlfriends.”

To lighten the mood, Zoe cracked a joke.

“I’d never dream of arguing with your dear, sweet nonna,” she said, making her eyes wide. “But the next time you want to re-create something you saw on your favorite dance show, find another partner, because I prefer having my feet on the ground, not suspended in midair.”

Jiovanni stuck out his tongue and Zoe laughed. She could never stay mad at him; he made life fun, and she enjoyed his company so much they spent most of their free time together, much to his nonna’s delight.

“You know what they say about male fashion designers, don’t you?”

Zoe wore a blank expression on her face. “No. What?”

“They’re the world’s best lovers.”

“According to who? You and the womanizers in your bad-boy posse?”

“My posse? Can’t say I’ve ever heard that expression before,” he said with a hearty laugh. “You kill me, you know that? I just love your sass and wit.”

“Good, so you won’t mind when I ask you to leave.”

“So, that’s how it is? I bring you wine, and you show your appreciation by kicking me out. That’s cold. What’s up with that? I thought you were my girl?”

“I am, but you have to go. You’re distracting me, and I have tons of work to do.” Zoe accessed her email account from her computer and read her newest message. “I have to finish planning the Men of Milan calendar, but we’ll meet up later at the premiere. I’ll save you a seat.”

“No, don’t. I have plans tonight, and they don’t involve Casa Di Moda.”

“You’re not going to the movie? Why not? Aurora’s expecting everyone to be there.”

“She doesn’t run my life, and there’s no way in hell I’m canceling my date.”

“But the after-party’s at Milano Cocktail Bar, your favorite spot in the city.”

“Like I said, I have other plans.” Jiovanni took his cell phone out of his pocket and swiped his finger across the screen. “I met a woman last night at the Blue Note jazz bar, and I’m taking her to the new French restaurant in the Bicocca.”

As Zoe listened to Jiovanni boast about his flavor of the week, her gaze fell across the web page on her computer, and she clicked it. An image of Romeo Morretti filled her screen. At lunch, as she’d sat at her desk eating the steak panini she’d ordered from a nearby deli, she’d read several articles about him, and even watched a documentary about his family. The Morretti family was an accomplished, successful bunch who donated their time, money and resources to worthy causes. But it seemed the more money Romeo made, the more ostentatious he was. Sure, he gave generously to charity organizations, but former employees painted him in a bad light.

And they weren’t the only ones.

The interview his ex-fiancée had given to the tabloids was so outrageous, Zoe had abandoned her lunch and soaked up every juicy word. There were thousands of pictures of him online with his billionaire clients, supermodel dates and equally attractive family members. To her surprise, Romeo traveled more than a flight attendant. He was in Spain when his brother Emilio won his fifth Formula One championship, on hand when his cousin Demetri smashed another baseball record in the Windy City, at the opening of Dolce Vita Dubai to support his cousin Nicco, and the dutiful best man at his brother Markos’s glamorous, over-the-top wedding in LA.

Zoe wet her lips with her tongue. Staring at the images of Romeo, she decided the photographs didn’t do him justice. They failed to capture his energy, his zest for life. Truth be told, she was intrigued by him. He was such a force, so charismatic, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. No surprise. Like every other woman in the city, she was attracted to his dashing good looks. Not that it mattered. Nothing would come of it. They didn’t travel in the same social circles, and Zoe had a better chance of winning Milan Idol than making a love connection with one of the richest men in the country.

“Before I go, I want you to check out these outfits I designed specifically for you.” Jiovanni grabbed the garment bag off the chair, unzipped it and marched around the desk. His confidence was evident in his broad I’m-the-man grin. “Mi amore, prepare to be blown away...”

Finding clothes that fit her hourglass figure in local stores was impossible, but Zoe could always count on Jiovanni to hook her up. Raised by a single mother and three older sisters, he understood women and appreciated the female body. From the moment Aurora had introduced them they’d clicked, and when his mother died unexpectedly last summer they’d grown even closer. He’d said she was his rock, the only person he trusted explicitly. His words had touched her heart. They’d never be lovers, but they’d be friends for life.

“What do you think? Did I hit it out of the park, or completely miss the mark?”

Zoe admired the outfits. Each one was impressive, and she couldn’t decide which one she liked best—the beaded dress with the plunging neckline; the one-shoulder gown with the frilly red bow, or the navy pantsuit with the floral-print design along the waist. Overcome with emotion, Zoe gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Jiovanni. I love all of them, and I’m honored to wear your amazing designs.”

Dropping into a chair, he clasped his hands behind his head and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Prove it. Try them on, mi amore. Go ahead. Give me a show.”

“With pleasure.” Zoe grabbed the garment bag, draped it over her forearm and entered the bathroom. Much to Jiovanni’s delight, she modeled each outfit, but when she sashayed out of the bathroom in the navy pantsuit, he cheered.

“That’s it,” he said, jumping to his feet. “That’s what you should wear tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s not too sexy?” Zoe adjusted her cleavage.

“You have a great body and beautiful décolletage, so flaunt it.” Jiovanni wore a proud smile. “I love to see you in my clothes. You make them come alive.”

To complete her look, Zoe opened the closet and searched through her wooden jewelry box for the right accessories. Zoe often went straight from work to industry functions, and had everything she needed at her disposal. Taking Jiovanni’s advice, she selected teardrop earrings and a rhinestone necklace and bracelet. As she did her hair and makeup, he snapped pictures of her with his cell phone. With billions of people on social media every day, Zoe knew how important it was to give fans an intimate, behind-the-scenes look at Casa Di Moda and encouraged him to upload the images immediately.

“You look incredible,” Jiovanni praised. “All eyes will be on you at the premiere.”

Putting on her stilettos, Zoe admired her appearance in the full-length mirror beside the bookshelf. She felt sophisticated in her chic ensemble, and Zoe was so anxious to hit the red carpet at Anteo spazioCinema, she decided to call it a day. The premiere didn’t start for another three hours, but she wanted to get there early to live-stream interviews with the cast. As publicity director it was her job to promote Casa Di Moda, and she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to rub shoulders with A-list celebrities, entertainment reporters and TV personalities.

Her desk phone buzzed, and the receptionist’s voice filled the office.

“Hi, Zoe, sorry to bother you, but I need you at reception. You have a visitor.”

Jiovanni rose to his feet. “Duty calls, huh?”

“Hopefully it’s the blogger I spoke to yesterday,” Zoe said, logging off her computer. “I want her to do a piece on Casa Di Moda and invited her to come by today for a tour.”

Zoe grabbed her purse, turned off the lights and waved goodbye to Jiovanni. Hustling toward the reception area, she mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to the popular fashion blogger. Zoe hoped the online article would help boost sales, because just the thought of losing the best job she’d ever had made sadness fill her heart.