LITMIR.BIZ

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over from Milan in about three weeks.’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ Gio said, ‘whether that’s a threat or a promise.’ He laughed, and fled from the kitchen before his aunt could flick a wet tea-towel at him.

      Gio placed the dish of crème brûlée in front of Fran. ‘This will be the best you’ve ever tasted,’ he told her.

      It certainly looked good. ‘How was your aunt?’ she asked politely.

      ‘Fine. I was told off for not taking you to meet her. But…’ He shook his head. ‘As one of four kids, you’ve got a better chance than most people of coping with the Mazettis. But you’ve only just agreed to be my office manager. I don’t want them scaring you off before you’ve even started.’

      ‘How would they do that?’

      ‘The women are—how can I put this nicely?—bossy. I grew up in a house with four women, so I can just about hold my own with my mother and my sisters—and my aunt. But when they add Nonna to the mix…’ He groaned. ‘She’s coming over from Milan in three weeks’ time. So I’m going to have to go into hiding.’

      ‘Your grandmother’s really that scary?’

      ‘No-o. Not exactly. She’s very straightforward—she tends to tell things like they are. I don’t think you’d have a problem with that. But…’ he sighed ‘…as I said, she’s got this thing about wanting me to settle down. Mum and Netti are her sidekicks, and they’ve got Marco on the team now—his wife had a little girl two weeks ago, and he’s just besotted with his wife and daughter. He thinks I should do what he’s done: find the perfect wife for me and have babies.’

      He looked utterly horrified at the idea.

      So was he the odd one out in his family, too? The one who didn’t want to do what all the others had done?

      She smiled wryly. ‘I suppose that’s the good thing about being from a family of academics. Nobody expects you to settle down until you’re at least thirty. So I’m safe for the next four years or so.’

      ‘Is that what you want?’ Gio asked. ‘To settle down and have babies?’

      A family to belong to. Where she’d fit smack into the middle of things. Be the hub.

      She suppressed the shiver of longing. ‘Right now, I’m quite happy being single and fancy-free,’ she said lightly.

      ‘Hallelujah. Finally I’ve found someone female who’s on my wavelength—who actually understands where I’m coming from. You’re going to be on my side on this, right?’ Gio raised his glass to her. ‘To us. And we’re going to make a brilliant team.’

      The pudding was indeed the best Fran had ever tasted. The coffee was good, too. And when they’d settled the bill and left the pizzeria, she was shocked to realise how late it was—how long she’d been chatting to Gio at the restaurant.

      A man she’d only just met.

      And yet, weirdly, it felt as if she’d known him for years. She couldn’t remember feeling so comfortable with someone so soon—ever.

      ‘I’ll see you home,’ Gio said.

      She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but there’s really no need. I can look after myself.’

      ‘Remember, I was brought up the Italian way—it doesn’t feel right just to abandon you at the door of my aunt’s pizzeria and let you find your own way home. Let me at least walk you to the Tube station.’ Clearly he sensed that she was about to refuse, because he added, ‘Besides, we need to discuss when you’re going to start tomorrow and which branch, so we might as well—’

      ‘—multi-task it,’ she finished.

      His eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘See. You can even read my mind.’

      ‘Hardly. Marco did tell me it was your favourite phrase,’ she reminded him with a smile. ‘OK. As long as it’s not taking you out of your way.’

      ‘I live within walking distance of the station,’ he said. ‘And it’s a warm, dry evening. The fresh air will do me good.’

      By the time he’d walked her to Goodge Street station, they’d agreed to meet at the coffee shop on Charlotte Street at half past nine, and she’d checked the dress code—the baristas all wore black trousers or skirts and a white shirt, so she’d do the same. Gio insisted on waiting with her on the platform until she’d got on to the Tube, and then sketched a wave before striding off again.

      When one door closes, another opens.

      And how. She’d lost her dream job, stared failure in the face, then only a few hours later, she’d been offered something that might turn out to be even better. Something where she’d have free rein.

      Gio was prepared to take a chance on her. So she’d take a chance on him. And she had a month to find out if she’d made the right choice.

      The following morning, Gio had just finished signing for a delivery when Fran walked in.

      He was used to seeing her on a Wednesday morning—but not this early, and only for the couple of minutes it took her to order her cappuccino and almond croissant. Seeing her now and knowing that she was going to be spending the day in his office, sitting at his desk, in his chair, felt…weird.

      ‘Good morning,’ she said.

      Lord, she had the sweetest smile. A smile that did things to him. Things he hadn’t expected. He tried to ignore the flutter at the base of his spine and strove for casualness. ‘Hi.’

      ‘Sorry I’m a bit early.’

      ‘Well, you have to make a good impression on your first day,’ he teased. He introduced her swiftly to the baristas. ‘This is Fran. She’s our new office manager. And, no, before you ask, it doesn’t mean you can all go swanning off inter-railing like Kelly and let me cover your shifts.’

      Sally clicked her fingers. ‘Damn. And there I was, planning to spend the summer on a beach full of gorgeous Italian men.’

      Gio laughed. ‘That’s easy. Just go to one of my family’s back gardens on a Sunday afternoon.’

      ‘A sandpit and a horde of boys under the age of seven isn’t quite the same thing, Gio.’

      ‘They’re male, Italian and gorgeous, yes?’

      She groaned. ‘Yes.’

      ‘And there’s sand.’

      ‘But no sea.’

      ‘That’s a minor detail. Plus, everyone has a freezer full of Nando’s best ice cream. What more do you need?’ he teased.

      Sally rolled her eyes. ‘Welcome to the madhouse, Fran.’

      ‘Thanks. I think.’ Fran smiled back.

      ‘Let me show you round,’ Gio said. He gave her a tour of the coffee shop, then showed her into the small staff kitchen, rest room and office at the back of the shop.

      Judging by the papers piled in a haphazard mountain on the desk, filing clearly wasn’t his thing—and he obviously knew it, because he looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I do know where everything is. I’m just not that good at putting things away.’

      ‘And I bet your computer’s the same. All the files lumped under one directory.’

      ‘I’m not quite that bad.’ Gio’s blue eyes softened. ‘I’ve just been too busy lately to keep on top of the filing. I did tell you I needed someone to sort me out. I’ll get you a coffee and then I’ll talk you through the computer systems.’

      He reappeared shortly after with two mugs of coffee.

      ‘You need these.’ She handed him an envelope. ‘Details for your personnel records.’

      He opened

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