pressure to leave well alone, told Gabi that.
And Lucia was his daughter.
Always Alim seemed a step ahead of her, and Gabi, rather than trying to second-guess his next move, decided to focus on her own.
If she was going to be strong against Alim, then she needed a life. She needed to be able to take care of her daughter enough that she did not solely depend on him, and that started now.
‘I’d hoped for something more concrete!’ Bernadetta was less than impressed with the rather sparse report Gabi offered as to her time in Zethlehan.
‘When is the wedding?’
‘Sultan Alim is not sure,’ Gabi answered, and then she looked at Bernadetta. ‘I’ve been thinking, Bernadetta...’ Except that sounded unsure. ‘As you know,’ Gabi amended, ‘for a long time I’ve wanted to go out on my own...’
‘Oh, not this again.’ Bernadetta rolled her eyes. ‘Do I have to remind you of the terms—?’
‘Bernadetta,’ Gabi broke in, ‘I cannot hire any of your contacts for six months, I’m very aware of that, but they can still hire me.’
‘Hire you?’ Bernadetta gave a condescending laugh.
‘Rosa would hire me in an instant. I worked for her for ages and, to be honest, with Lucia so young the thought of more regular hours for a few months is appealing. And, of course, some of Rosa’s brides-to-be might not yet have found a wedding planner...’ She could see Bernadetta’s rapid blink but she quickly recovered.
‘You wouldn’t last five minutes in this industry without me.’
‘I think I’ll last a whole lot longer,’ Gabi said. ‘I guess we’re going to find out, but not for a while, though. I’ve just returned from maternity leave so I’m legally obliged—’
‘Gabi,’ Bernadetta broke in, ‘this is nonsense. We’ve got a royal wedding coming up—’
‘We?’ Gabi checked. It was the first time she had ever included Gabi in the business and it had taken a threat to resign to hear it. ‘Matrimoni di Bernadetta has a potential contract. I have a child to raise. Bernadetta, I think we could make a very strong partnership but obviously it has to be something that would work for you too.’
‘Gabi,’ Bernadetta said, ‘you’re getting ideas above your station.’
‘No.’ Gabi shook her head. ‘I’ve got ideas and plenty of them, and they’re exactly where they ought to be.’
It didn’t go well.
She wasn’t exactly laughed out of the office, as Gabi had predicted she would be; instead Bernadetta sulked and ignored her.
* * *
In Zethlehan it wasn’t business as usual either.
Violetta asked to see Alim and broke the news.
‘Bastiano Conti has withdrawn his offer.’
Usually Alim would hold onto a hiss of indignation when a sale fell through at this late stage. He never revealed his emotions, even to the most trusted staff or those closest in his circle.
Now, though, he let out an audible sigh.
One of relief.
He did not want the Grande Lucia to be sold.
Alim loved that building; there had been more than memories made there and he did not want that chapter of his life closed.
Lucia.
He had to see her.
‘What was his reason?’ Alim asked Violetta.
‘Apparently one of your chambermaids has light fingers. A family heirloom was stolen from Bastiano.’
‘I will deal with that,’ Alim said.
He and Bastiano were friends, and a deal falling through would not mar that.
Business was kept separate, but still he rang the hotel and asked to be put through to the head of Housekeeping to find out things for himself before calling Bastiano.
‘Young Sophie...’ Benita told him. ‘I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt but a ring was found when she turned out the pockets of her uniform so there was no choice but to let her go.’
Sophie was a friend of Gabi’s, Alim knew.
He had often seen them chatting; in days long gone he had seen them with their coats on at the end of the day, heading out for supper.
And, on Gabi’s behalf, he probed further.
‘Did she admit to it?’ Alim checked.
‘Of course not,’ Benita said. ‘I’ve yet to find a thief who would.’
‘Yes but—’
‘Alim,’ Benita said, ‘I think there might have been something between our esteemed guest and maid.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s been dealt with.’
‘Okay.’
Yet he could not let his thoughts of the Grande Lucia go.
He was flicking through his phone, looking at pictures of Lucia, and then he came to the photo of him with Lucia’s mother.
It was a magnificent portrait of a couple gazing at each other, on the edge of a future together...
And Alim felt his heart quicken.
He reached for the leather-bound folder on his desk and read the pertinent parts of the diktat.
And then he read the rest.
Violetta brought in refreshments but instead of waving her out he had her bring him more files.
Ancient files with ancient rulings that he had been forced to learn as a child.
Alim studied them as a man now.
He read the ancient teachings and pored over the laws of his land, and as he turned the pages Alim glanced up and saw his father standing there.
They were barely speaking.
His father considered Alim to be stubborn.
‘I have chosen my bride,’ Alim told his father.
‘That decision belongs to me,’ Oman said, for he knew the laws well.
‘Then you had better make sure that it is the right one,’ Alim responded coolly, but his voice held a silk-clad threat, ‘or there shall be no wedding.’
Oman’s assessment was the correct one.
