One Winter Weekend

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

A few minutes later, she stood outside the hotel, craning her neck to see where Fabrizio might be. Several cars passed by, but there was no indication any of them was being driven by the handsome Italian.

Her attention was struck moments later by a gorgeous yellow Lamborghini, sleek and stylish and very cool.

Boy , she thought to herself, nice to have the money to afford one of those babies .

The Lamborghini turned into the hotel turnabout, and the horn honked towards her. She squinted to see the driver.

It was Fabrizio. “Of course ,” she murmured.

He opened the door for her – opening it not out but up , which made her stand back.

“Come,” he motioned.

The interior of the car was even more luxurious than she’d imagined. Gorgeous cream and black leather seats, a smooth, crisp dash, top-of-the-line stereo system… it was almost too much, and she said so.

“What,” she teased, “you couldn’t do well enough with a moderately expensive car? You have to go with the one that costs as much as a house?”

He smiled. “My job,” he explained, “causes me to have to drive quite a bit. I like… style when I do so.”

“And you can afford this?”

“I can afford many things.”

“How is that possible?” She herself had worked at a hotel before. Even at a luxury one like the Hotel Marliconi.

“The hotel at which you are staying,” he said matter-of-factly, “is my main source of income.”

“There’s no way you can afford a Lamborghini on an event specialist’s salary.”

He looked over at her quizzically. “ Signora ,” he said, “I am many things, but I am no event specialist.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, frowning. “Molly has been working with you for months now.”

Fabrizio shook his head. “No,” he said, “Molly was working with our event specialist, yes, but he is no longer employed with us. I fired him last week.”

“What do you mean, you fired him? Are you his manager or something?”

“You mean… the Pembreys did not tell you?”

“Ben’s parents? What did they not tell me, exactly?”

“The Hotel Marliconi,” he said. “It is my hotel.”

Caroline felt a shock ripple through her entire body. “Wait – your hotel? So that would make you…”

He looked at her and once again flashed his smile. “Fabrizio Marliconi. At your service.”