rough not your thing any more, little rich girl?’ he asked, with a mocking slant to his mouth.
She ground her teeth. ‘I am offering to work as your housekeeper. Nothing else.’
RACHEL had waited for over an hour to meet with the proposed financial backer of her fashion label. She still hadn’t quite got in front of the jet lag and had to fight to keep her eyes open on the magazine she was leafing through as she waited in the plush reception area.
At last she was led through to the corporate executive’s office by his receptionist on legs that felt woolly with excitement.
This is it, she thought as she walked through the door. I won’t have to lose everything I have worked so hard for.
‘I am sorry, Ms McCulloch,’ the late middle-aged corporate executive said with an apologetic smile even before Rachel could take a seat. ‘We have changed our mind. Our company is undergoing some restructuring. We are not prepared to take a risk on such a relatively unknown designer as you. You will have to go elsewhere for the financial backing you require. We are no longer interested.’
Rachel blinked at the older man in shock. ‘Not interested?’ she choked. ‘But I thought … Your letter said … But I’ve come all this way!’
He held up a hand as if directing the heavy traffic that rumbled over the cobbled streets of Milan outside. ‘We have been advised against it by a highly respected business analysis expert,’ he said. ‘The board has made its final decision. I suggest you consider other options for finance.’
Other options? What other options? Rachel thought in gut-twisting despair. She had to get her evening wear label launched in Europe. Everything she had worked for, all the sacrifices she had made, all the heartache and hard work surely couldn’t end like this. She would look a fool all over again if this failed. If she didn’t get this money the company would go into receivership. She needed money and she needed it quickly.
She could not fail.
Rachel frowned as she addressed the executive. ‘Who exactly advised against backing me?’
‘I am sorry but I am unable to divulge that information,’ he said.
She felt her spine go rigid, suspicion crawling over her skin like a long-legged insect. ‘You said it was a highly respected business analysis expert.’
‘That is correct.’
‘Would that be Alessandro Vallini by any chance?’ she asked with a pointed look.
‘I am sorry, Miss McCulloch,’ he said. ‘I am not at liberty to confirm or deny anything.’
She stood up, hoisting her handbag over her shoulder with grim determination. ‘Thank you for your time,’ she said curtly and left.
Rachel found the address of Alessandro Vallini’s Milan office on the search engine on her phone. It was a gracious-looking building, old but classy and stylish, signifying the success of the man behind the business. It was a stellar rise to the top. As self-made men went, he surely was an outstanding example of how far one could go irrespective of a disadvantageous background. Seeing him face to face was not something she had originally planned to do, but clearly he had engineered this so she would track him down.
‘I would like to see Signor Vallini,’ Rachel said without preamble to the smartly dressed receptionist behind the desk.
‘I am sorry but Signor Vallini is currently taking an extended summer break at his villa in Positano,’ the receptionist said. ‘He is conducting all his business from there.’
‘Then I would like to make an appointment to see him at the earliest opportunity,’ Rachel said.
‘Are you an existing client?’ the receptionist asked.
‘No, but I—’
‘I am sorry but Signor Vallini is not taking on any new clients until after he returns from his break,’ the receptionist said. ‘I could schedule something for you in late September, perhaps?’
Rachel frowned. ‘But that’s more than a month away. I’m only here until the end of the August.’ ‘I am sorry but—’
‘Look, I’m not really a client,’ Rachel said, hoping she could pull off the little white lie. ‘I’m a … an old friend of his from Melbourne. He used to work for my father. I was hoping we could catch up while I am here. My name is Rachel McCulloch.’
There was a slight pause.
‘I will have to speak to him first,’ the receptionist said, and, picking up the receiver, added, ‘If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat over there?’
Rachel sat on one of the butter-soft leather sofas, trying not to think of the last time she had seen Alessandro. If her instincts were right and he had been the one to sabotage her attempt to gain financial backing it proved one thing clearly: he still hadn’t forgiven her.
‘I am sorry but Signor Vallini does not wish to see you,’ the receptionist said.
Rachel shot to her feet. ‘But I must see him,’ she insisted. ‘I absolutely must see him.’
‘I am under strict instructions to inform you that under no circumstances will Signor Vallini agree to see you,’ the receptionist said.
Rachel was outraged. He was obviously playing with her. Did he really think she would take no for an answer after what he had just done? As paybacks went it was certainly an effective one but she wasn’t going to allow him to get away with it. Of course he would see her.
She would make him see her.
Rachel’s stomach dipped and dived all the way down the Amalfi coast road leading towards Positano, but it had little to do with the hair-raising twists and bends the bus wove around. She had planned to hire a car but her credit card had been declined at the booking counter. It had been an embarrassing experience, one she was unlikely to forget in a hurry. The phone call to her bank back in Australia had given her little comfort. It seemed a red flag had come up on her account and it would take at least twenty-four hours to clear it given her financial history after Craig had forged her name on various loans three years ago. She needed money more than ever and she needed it now.
The bus dropped her at the foot of the road that led to the Villa Vallini set high on the cliff. But when the driver opened the luggage compartment to locate her one bag it was nowhere to be seen.
‘It must have been put on one of the other buses,’ the driver said, closing the compartment.
‘How could that have happened?’ Rachel asked, trying not to panic.
He shrugged. ‘It happens now and again. I will contact head office and make sure it is delivered to your hotel. If you give me your details I will see to it.’ He took out a pen and a clipboard.
‘I haven’t actually booked a hotel as yet,’ Rachel said, chewing at her lip as she thought of her current lack of funds.
‘Just
