One Week in Venice with the CEO by Kate Hardy

Author:Kate Hardy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-11-09T21:12:07+00:00

* * *

She sounded so forlorn. Gianni wanted to wrap his arms round her and tell her everything was going to be all right—that he’d make it all right—but how could he? It wasn’t his place to hold her. But he could at least reassure her from a professional point of view. ‘The structure of the palazzo is reasonable, given its age,’ he said. ‘Yes, there are problems, but they can be fixed. Though now is your chance to be radical. to make it the home you want it to be.’

‘What would you do with it, if it was yours?’ she asked.

‘To make it pay for itself and be used? I’d turn the top two floors into apartments,’ he said, ‘and rent them out; then it would be full of people instead of silence. I’d remodel this floor for personal use, with good en-suite bathrooms and decent heating, add extra plug sockets during the rewiring so you have enough to suit a modern lifestyle, and partition some of the rooms to maximise their use. I’d definitely get rid of the wall-covering.’ He saw her flinch, and said gently, ‘Donate it to a museum, because it’s not doing you any favours here. It’s damaged, and reproducing what you have here is going to be costly and take a lot of time. If it was mine, I’d replaster the walls and add a bit of plaster detail—doing it the same way they would’ve done at the time the palazzo was built—and then paint it.’

She looked aghast. ‘That means you’d lose the history.’

‘A compromise. I’d bring it back to life. Make it a proper home.’ And he could see it: a comfortable, bright space. Though he wasn’t entirely sure whether the brightness was because of the palazzo itself or because of the woman who stood before him. He spread his hands. ‘You did ask. If you want to live in a museum on all four floors, sticking with the choices of the people who came before you, that’s your call. But for me a home reflects the people who live in it. It’s where they can be themselves.’

She didn’t look convinced.

Well, he’d started now. He might as well push it a bit more. ‘Your library. Your office. Do you ever sit in those big leather chairs and read or listen to music?’

‘No,’ she admitted.

‘Then maybe,’ he said, ‘you need to go through the furniture. Sell the stuff you don’t use or don’t love, or donate it to a museum, and bring in stuff that works for you. Being the custodian of a place doesn’t mean you can’t ever change things. It means you can add your own layer to the history.’

She looked thoughtful. ‘I’d never considered that.’

‘It’s something to add in to your renovation plans,’ he said. ‘Spend a while thinking about what you want.’

‘Maybe.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s too late to climb the stairs today, but I’d like to show you a tower on the way to dinner.’

‘Dinner which I’m paying for,’ he said swiftly, ‘given that you bought me dinner last night.

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