CAROL MARINELLI - Italian Boss, Ruthless Revenge

‘I don’t speak Italian…’

‘Lucky for you then, that nearly all my staff in Rome speak excellent English… Still, if you do decide to remain in this position, that is something you might be wise to address.’

If she decided to remain! Who would be mad enough to leave such a fabulous job?

Lazzaro must have caught the slightly incongruous dart of her eyes.

‘I have never had a PA stay for more than a year—that is how long you will be contracted for. Towards the end of your term we will discuss your future. This is an exceptionally demanding role—and, yes, I am an exceptionally demanding boss. I have high standards, a formidable workload, and at some point you will no doubt decide that no amount of money or perks can make up for it.’

‘Is that why Jenna left?’ Caitlyn asked, because she’d heard that you should find out the reasons any position was vacant. Though when Lazzaro answered she rather wished that she hadn’t.

‘Jenna had certain demands that I wasn’t prepared to meet.’

Like monogamy? Caitlyn was tempted to say, but thankfully she didn’t—their private affair had not been so private, given it was she who had changed the sheets!

‘At some point,’ Lazzaro continued, ‘you will want to resume your own life—I accept that. However, a period of working for me will open many doors for you.’

‘I just don’t get why me, when it’s clearly such a demanding role…’ Caitlyn’s mouth was suddenly dry—she was acutely aware that she was sitting in a chambermaid’s dress, suddenly being interviewed for a plum position. ‘And though naturally I’d love the opportunity, I just don’t understand why you’d just hand it to me. If it’s because of what happened with Malvolio—’

‘After several unsuccessful interviews, I wasted yet another hour this afternoon attempting to explain to a very boutique recruitment agency my needs,’ Lazzaro interrupted. ‘Outlining what it was I was looking for in an assistant. Next week I will be paraded with a number of what they consider suitable applicants. I do not necessarily want someone who speaks fluent Italian. I do not want someone who on paper has “excellent interpersonal skills” but in reality cannot read a situation. I want someone who, without being told, writes down the name of a caller they assume might be difficult.’ His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked over at her. ‘I guess you just know sometimes that you’ve found the person you’re looking for.’

‘Quite!’ Caitlyn croaked, then coloured up, biting on her bottom lip, wishing she were hearing that from him somewhere other than in an interview.

‘And,’ Lazzaro continued, ‘I want someone who has the guts to be honest.’

‘I am honest…’ Caitlyn flared.

‘Just not with your bank.’ He grinned. ‘Look, I am not asking you to sign away the rest of your life. I understand that the role is too consuming, too demanding to expect longevity. But most people I interview are using this as a stepping stone—are prepared to work hard for a few months because of the doors it will open. I want someone who is prepared to work hard, full-stop. So when you are thinking of leaving—which you will—I want you to tell me.’

‘Okay…’ Caitlyn nodded, only she didn’t sound very convinced—wasn’t convinced at all, in fact, that she would ever leave. Still, maybe this was the way to get over him, she decided, looking at the multitude of positives. Maybe witnessing his legendary bloody nature first hand might just get her to put out the light on the stupid torch she’d been carrying for him.

‘Are you in a relationship?’

‘Excuse me?’ Caitlyn’s response was suitably appalled. ‘I hardly think that’s relevant.’

‘But it is,’ Lazzaro countered. ‘He is going to have to be one very patient man to accept that he’s hardly going to see you—that if this goes ahead, as of Monday, I come first!’

‘Well, I’m not in a relationship.’ Caitlyn sniffed. ‘We just broke up.’

‘Excellent.’ Lazzaro smiled. ‘How long were you together?’

‘Why? Are you worried I’m going to be crying into my tissues instead of concentrating on you?’

‘I’m just curious.’ Lazzaro shrugged. ‘Given that we’re going to be working so closely together, we’re going to get to know these things about each other.’

Hardly! Caitlyn choked back the word—she couldn’t imagine asking Lazzaro to pass the tissues as she cracked a bar of chocolate and told him that the reason she and Dominic had broken up was because—because… She closed her eyes and cringed. Because of the things she didn’t do. Because, at the ripe old age of twenty-two, she was still a virgin!

‘Purple!’ Caitlyn said instead, giving a tight smile at Lazzaro’s bemused frown. ‘I’m wearing purple knickers, before you ask, and we were together six months. He ended it, but I was actually about to. Is that enough information for you?’

‘For now…’ He gave her a very lazy smile, and stared at her for the longest time without even attempting to speak. For Caitlyn it was excruciating as she awaited what she knew was about to be a summing up. ‘You’re very…’ he paused before he delivered his verdict ‘…different.’

‘I am.’

‘Very interesting…’ Lazzaro mused.

‘I’m hard bloody work, actually!’

‘I like hard work.’ Lazzaro grinned, and she nearly shot out of her chair at the look he was giving her. ‘Well, I look forward to working with you. That will be all.’

‘Not quite.’ Caitlyn saw his frown of surprise and she took a deep breath before speaking. ‘Generally at the end of an interview the interviewee is asked if she has any questions or anything she’d like to add.’

‘Do you?’

‘Actually, yes…’ Caitlyn hesitated for a second—could absolutely hear the horrified shriek of the little devil that sat on her shoulder as she decided to be up-front. But there was no point in taking this job, no point at all, if one thing wasn’t made perfectly clear from the start. She’d heard Lazzaro was a tough and demanding boss, that he had no qualms at all about speaking his mind—loudly on occasion. That she could accept, so long as Lazzaro could accept her. ‘I admire the fact that you speak your mind. However…’ her blue eyes locked with his ‘…so do I.’

‘I’d already worked that one out,’ Lazzaro countered. ‘Though stand-up rows with my personal assistant I can do without.’

‘Oh, there’ll be no stand-up rows.’ Caitlyn smiled. ‘I’m more professional than that. But, before you formally offer me the position, you should know that I do have a tongue, and one that I’ll use if I think I’m being spoken to inappropriately—no matter how good the salary, manners cost nothing.’

Lazzaro, though his face never moved a muscle, was actually smothering a smile; listening to Caitlyn was as unique as it was refreshing—almost as if he were the one being interviewed for the job.

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