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‘Indeed,’ he said fondly. ‘Oh, I really was the luckiest man…’

Though he spoke to Stella, his gaze was far away, perhaps long in the past. Lady Atherton had been dead for twenty years and he missed her dreadfully. He was well travelled and extremely well connected. When many would have retreated with their memories, or travelled the world, or even remarried, Sir Charles had put his life experience to work and, in his fifties, had founded Scene Seekers. Now he was mid-seventies and still going strong.

‘I knew she was the woman for me from the second moment we met.’

‘The second moment?’ Stella checked and Sir Charles’s lips twitched, delighted by her observation.

‘For the first moment I couldn’t think straight.’

Stella gave a small laugh but then blinked at Sir Charles’s response.

‘You don’t believe me.’

‘Of course I believe you, I just don’t…’ She shrugged helplessly. Her parents had married soon after they’d met, it would seem because of her, and it really hadn’t turned out well! ‘I can’t imagine it, that’s all.’ In truth, she’d never had a relationship. A few dates, a few kisses, but now was not the time to think about it and so she turned her mind back to work.

‘Could you approach the Count again,’ she suggested, ‘if you’re old friends?’

‘To my shame, I’ve tried, but he’s not returning my calls.’

‘Your shame?’ Stella checked.

‘He’s been a recluse since the accident and just wants to be left alone. Certainly, he wouldn’t appreciate a film crew stomping through his property… Geo must be approaching ninety now.’

‘What about using the town of Sant Lavia as the unit base and finding another palazzo?’

‘Maybe,’ Sir Charles said, though he didn’t sound keen.

And nor, as they went through a map and photos, did he seem keen on Positano.

Stella loved this. She knew he was just bouncing ideas, but sitting with the knowledgeable Sir Charles and trying to work out what was best for the client were golden moments indeed.

‘Getting permits for the Amalfi Coast will be hell,’ Sir Charles brooded as they talked through the issues.

‘Italy’s very strict,’ Stella agreed, deciding that must be why he’d brought her up here—before her promotion to Junior Location Consultant, a lot of her career had been spent dealing with issues just like that. ‘I can look into Sant Lavia for permissions…’

‘Stella,’ he interrupted, ‘I didn’t bring you up here to discuss permits. I want you to go to the Amalfi Coast and scout for a location.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, start at Sant Lavia to get the feel of what Damon’s looking for. I doubt you’ll get close to the palazzo—its access is only via private road and there are guards all over the place, but get what you can and from there try and find something that meets the vision.’

‘Me?’ she checked. ‘But what about…’

‘Stella, please don’t tell me how to do my job.’

‘Of course not, but…’ She halted, pressed her lips closed.

‘I’m far too fixated on Sant Lavia, and I know what all their responses will be—a fresh pair of eyes is most definitely needed.’

‘I’ll hire a car—’

‘You’ll do no such thing!’ he barked. ‘Stella, have you any idea how treacherous the roads are there? I just told you what happened to the Rinaldi family…’

‘I was just…’ she closed her eyes, feeling naïve and such a fraud, knowing deep down her promotions had been flukes ‘…thinking of the budget.’

‘You’ll have a driver.’ He shook his head, as if still bemused by her suggestion to drive herself. ‘Though we’ll need to get a move on. Damon wants a full proposal within the next two weeks, so the sooner you can get there the better. Jinty said it’s your birthday this week—do you have plans or…’

‘No plans,’ Stella hurriedly responded. Even if it felt undeserved, there was no way she would miss out on this opportunity, and as well as that, she loathed birthdays.