Curtis leaned down and readjusted the cuff of his sock.
Gianfranco broke the moment with a cough and he hurriedly handed out price lists for treatments. “What do you want to do next?” he asked. “Any friend of Nico’s is a friend of mine. I will give you all fift—um, thirty-five percent off any spa activities.”
He fixed his eyes on Heather. “For you, madame, I recommend our yoga classes, or maybe Pilates. You, sir,” he nodded at Curtis, “I think you would enjoy our signature manicure.”
Eric shrunk back in his seat until Gianfranco pointed at one of the windows. “A walk in the extensive grounds of my hotel is good for the soul.” He turned to Edna next. “In my ballroom there is a live band playing music, accompanied by tea and cakes.”
While they all browsed the treatment lists, Nico whispered to Gianfranco, “How do you know what my guests will like? It’s as though you can read their minds.”
Gianfranco shook his head. “It is not magic. I just look at the people. The man with the long blond hair has tanned skin and his hands are rugged, so I can tell he will enjoy being outdoors. The elderly lady has fine bone structure and a genteel manner so she will like elegant entertainment. The man with the black hair and thick eyebrows dyes his hair so he will probably enjoy a manicure.” He nodded toward Heather. “She has the wordpeaceon her necklace, so I think she will like spiritual activities.”
“This is very clever,” Nico said.
“It is something I can teach you.”
“I want to do things my own way.” Nico’s gaze settled upon Ginny. “You didn’t mention the other lady.”
Gianfranco surreptitiously looked at her and frowned. “She is more difficult to read, like a book when you don’t quite understand the story.” He cleared his throat to address her. “Do any of my treatments interest you?” he asked.
Ginny stared at the list. “There are so many things,” she said. “Maybe too many.”
“Impossible.” Gianfranco laughed heartily.
Ginny shivered when she thought about the wedding vow renewal ceremony she’d hoped to share with Adrian. Perhaps seeing the venue would help her finally accept it wasn’t going to happen. “I believe you host weddings and celebrations here,” she said tentatively.
Gianfranco nodded. “Would you like to see the room? It is truly magnificent.”
“Please. I’d like that.”
Ginny felt like she was betraying Nico by showing interest in another man’s hotel. She didn’t meet his eyes as she exited the room.
Her nerves jittered as she followed Gianfranco along endless corridors. He pointed out his swimming pool and main restaurant, conference rooms and a souvenir shop like a proud parent boasting about his child’s exam results.
“This is my celebration room,” Gianfranco announced, when they reached the top floor. “It is the most romantic place in Italy for weddings.”
Ginny tried to mentally prepare herself before she peeped around the door.
A red-carpeted aisle led to an arch covered in white silk roses that framed a bird’s-eye view of Vigornuovo through a floor-to-ceiling window. White muslin hung in swathes around the room and chairs were tied with powder-pink chiffon ribbons. There was an Instagram-worthy wall full of pastel silk flowers.
Ginny’s stomach knotted with regret. She’d already decided what to wear for the ceremony: a white suit with a slightly flared trouser that made her look taller and slimmer. She’d imagined that Adrian would wear a navy suit, similar to the one he wore on their wedding day.
Ginny didn’t entirely believe that marriage vows were something that needed to be renewed. A promise was surely a promise. However, a ceremony would have been a time to pause and celebrate something precious between them. She felt a lump swelling in her throat and couldn’t swallow it away.
“Come inside and see,” Gianfranco said, heading along the red carpet.
Ginny’s ankles felt weak as she followed him. This wasn’t supposed to be the way she walked down the aisle. Adrian should be at the end, waiting for her under the floral arch. He’d be wearing a goofy grin, ready to take her hand and gaze into her eyes. They’d giggle like the teenagers they once were.
Ginny suddenly felt wretched and empty. Gianfranco’s description of his ballroom became a droning noise in her head and her body felt like it wasn’t her own.
She edged underneath the arch and stood in front of the window. The hills and sky were vast and seemed to draw her toward them. She could still hear the chime of gongs in her head and found herself swaying like bulrushes in a breeze. Her head became light, so light she felt herself falling. Then falling even deeper.
Until everything went blank.
The next thing she knew, Ginny was lying on the floor, looking up at the rose-covered arch. She could feel carpet beneath her fingertips.
“Ginny, Ginny?” a voice sounded, as if from space.
Her eyelids flickered as she tried to work out if she was in heaven or not. “Adrian?”
