Enthralled by Moretti
Well, on the bright side, she would find a company specialising more in the pro bono work she enjoyed and, even if Brian hunted her down there, he would be able to see for himself that it wasn’t a money-making machine.
She still couldn’t work out how he had discovered her whereabouts but there was no point wasting time trying to figure that out. With social-networking sites stretching their tentacles into every area of everyone’s lives, it wouldn’t have been beyond the wit of man for him to ferret her out the second he’d figured he could get money from her.
‘My dear,’ Tony said when she had explained that she would have to hand in her notice for personal reasons. ‘Are you sure this is really what you want to do? You’re on course to go far with this firm. Your dedication is second to none.’
But he assured her that, if he couldn’t persuade her to change her mind, then of course he would provide her with glowing references. With just that sympathy and fairness which she would miss so much, he also agreed that she could leave as soon as she had tied up loose ends on the cases she was currently working on so that they could be handed over in good order.
She had no idea what he concluded her ‘personal reasons’ for leaving might be, but she suspected that health issues might be at the heart of it, and he was right in a way. She certainly wasn’t feeling very well at the moment. Not when she considered the way her nicely controlled life had been turned upside down.
Alessandro... She thought that this might not be as similarly smooth sailing. She ignored a further two calls from him, only picking up his last just as she was about to leave the office on the dot of five. Clock watching had never been her style, but tying up loose ends was a dismal procedure. Nor was she up to chatting to all and sundry about her decision to leave.
‘Where the hell have you been? I’ve phoned three times!’
‘I’m sorry. I was...busy.’ Just the sound of his voice sent little ripples of awareness racing up and down her spine as she took the lift to the ground floor and emerged into yet another cool and overcast day to do battle with public transport.
‘Busy doing what?’
‘I, well, I’ve handed in my notice at Fitzsimmons.’
For a few seconds, Alessandro debated whether he had heard her correctly. But there was something in her voice, a tell-tale tremor that she couldn’t quite conceal; a nuance which he felt that only he would have been able to pick up. Something was different, wrong, a little off-kilter.
He stood up, restlessly moving away from his desk towards the windows and absently looking down. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘No, I’m not. Can we meet? I can...um...come to your office.’
‘I can think of a better venue.’
‘I’d rather your office, Alessandro.’
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded bluntly. ‘And please don’t tell me nothing. You tell me you’ve handed in your notice, even though you’ve expressed nothing but satisfaction at your job there, and now...you want to meet me in my office?’
‘Please.’
Alessandro sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his hair. He was getting a very bad vibe about whatever the hell was going on but he acquiesced. Whatever was happening, he would be able to get it out of her and things would return to normal. He was nothing if not wholly confident in his ability to take her mind off things.
‘I’d rather not parade my personal life in front of my employees,’ he drawled. ‘And you may be scuttling out of the office because you’ve handed in your notice and lost momentum in your job, but my people are all still at their desks. If you can’t wait until later and meet me somewhere private, then I can see you in forty-five minutes at that brasserie round the corner from my office. You know the one?’
She did. She made her way there slowly, forgoing the speed and ease of a black cab in favour of a laborious trip by public transport. It suited her mood.
How had life changed so fast in such a brief moment in time? As she neared the brasserie, she felt a sickening lurch of déjà vu. Eight years ago she had met Alessandro here with one thing and one thing only in her head—the need to get rid of him. She had walked towards a conversation she had known would break her in half and she was doing the same thing now. History was repeating itself. But it was so much worse this time, she would be taking so many more regrets with her when she was finished saying what she had to say.
* * *
Sitting at the back of the brasserie, nursing an extremely early glass of red wine, Alessandro had been waiting for ten minutes. He had been unable to get down to work after her phone call. He would never have imagined himself as one of those sensitive, intuitive sorts but something wasn’t right and, however much he told himself that he could sort out whatever the hell it was that was eating her up, he was still vaguely uneasy.