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‘Hmm,’ Gabe responded, wondering how she hadn’t heard the bitchy ring in Donatella’s ‘Oh’ or noticed her disdainful glance at Stella’s attire. He chose not to point that out. Instead, he explained who she was. ‘Donatella’s our local historian and she takes it all very seriously.’

‘Her name’s similar to mine.’

‘Believe me,’ he said, ‘you are nothing alike.’ Donatella was awful—beautiful, yes, but only on the outside, though his cynical, jaded take on life was perhaps not required now. ‘In truth, she does a lot for the palazzo.’ He should be more grateful really, as there was a lot of correspondence to deal with. Such a grand building required endless permissions, even for a window repair. ‘Eduardo, my grandfather’s private secretary, is even older than he is and still uses a typewriter! Badly, slowly.’

Stella laughed. ‘Really?’

‘Of course, my grandfather would never consider replacing him.’ He paused then, thinking, and not for the first time, of all the staff in the magnificent household, and what, when the inevitable happened, would become of them. He changed the subject. ‘So, Positano tomorrow?’

‘Yes.’

And there she wouldn’t have such a knowledgeable tour guide. Really, the more she learned about the Amalfi Coast, the more she felt out of her depth.

And on this night when they could be a little more themselves, she was suddenly glum.

‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I only got this job by a fluke. I’m certain once Sir Charles realises that I’ll be let go. This proposal is going to be dreadful.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we can’t use here, and if there was any place suitable, Sir Charles would know about it.’

‘I meant—’ he interrupted ‘—why do you think you got the job by fluke?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘I think it might. I doubt Sir Charles makes mistakes like that. Successful people don’t. I handpicked all of my team.’

She smiled to herself at his confidence, or arrogance, but simply knew he was very successful. ‘What do you do?’

‘I play with other people’s money.’

She stopped walking then and looked at him. ‘I doubt that. I think you take it all very seriously.’

‘Maybe,’ he said, and then looked back at her and nodded, which confirmed she had read him right. ‘So, tell me why you think your hiring was a fluke?’

He was, Stella realised, possibly the only person she could properly discuss it with.

‘A lot of the staff have incredible qualifications and have won awards; I started as an office junior. Just answering the phone, greeting clients…’ She felt the turn of his head.

‘You’d be good at that.’

‘I guess.’

And then she felt the touch of his hand as he again guided her down some steps, only this time his hand remained, and it felt steadying. Warm, though in a different way from the night air that clung a little too much, like her heavy dress. His touch didn’t smother, not even when he squeezed her fingers to go on.

‘I’ve been promoted a couple of times, but it was mainly clerical work—permits and research and such. Well, a few months ago, Daisy, she’s my manager, she needed to find a village school with a cemetery beside it and a few other details. She found a couple that came close, but the school boards wouldn’t allow filming. I knew of one…’ She thought back to how nervous she’d felt suggesting it. ‘Like I said, I moved around a lot, but I was there for a year, and it was perfect. Sir Charles suggested that I meet with the headmaster, kick off talks.’

‘It was used?’

‘Yes. Then they needed a modern courthouse with a few specifics, and I suggested one, but it was only because of my parents’ divorce that I knew it. It was just luck.’

‘Or you have an eye for detail,’ he suggested. ‘And why do you think Sir Charles suggested you speak with the school?’

‘Because I’d attended there.’