here and she was doing it. He’d have to make it up to her somehow. A bonus perhaps.
They spent the next hour going over the data, photographs, charts and graphs and figures. She sat at a small desk with a computer in front of her and he leaned over her shoulder or he’d pace back and forth making suggestions. Sometimes he would ramble. Sometimes she would object. He was amazed at how quickly she grasped the ideas he put forth. He was equally impressed with the expression on her face, one of intense concentration. He had a feeling an explosion could rock the floor and she would still be focussed on the job.
Unfortunately he had lost some of his own concentration. He found himself so distracted by the way her hair fell across her cheek and the look in her dark eyes that he sometimes lost track of the task at hand. Something that hadn’t happened for years. Something that shouldn’t happen at all.
His nanny was a combination of looks and brains he’d never before encountered in a woman. Why hadn’t she ever married? What was wrong with the men in America?
When she’d enter the data he gave her into a format, he’d give his opinion, and they’d make more changes. When she ran into problems, and the computer wouldn’t respond, she muttered to herself. But amazingly, they soon had a cohesive, comprehensive presentation which he then translated into Italian. At the end of the hour his secretary knocked on his door. He looked up, surprised at how much had been accomplished in so little time.
“Signor Monteverde, I have the clothes. And the clients have arrived.” She held out a bulging garment bag. “I wasn’t sure of exactly what you wanted, so I got a selection.”
Vittorio straightened his tie and rolled his sleeves down. “Quite right, Mirella. Thank you. Show the guests into the board room then will you take Ms West into your office and help her choose something appropriate for the event today?”
Sabrina followed Vittorio’s secretary into a small adjoining office. Her shoulders ached, her back hurt and her head was pounding after an hour of the most intense brainstorming she’d ever done. The office was smaller than his, with its tall ceiling and huge windows overlooking the Duomo, but it was very pleasant. His secretary was efficient and helpful as she unpacked the clothes.
“I have no idea which one to choose,” Sabrina admitted as Mirella held up one suit after another. The suits all looked the same to her. She wondered why there were also two dresses, one black one blue and even more garments behind them. They were obviously gorgeous designer dresses that must have cost a fortune. Well, they’d just have to take them back. She didn’t need them or want them.
“May I suggest the black suit?” the secretary said. “I couldn’t resist choosing a few items which are different from business clothes. Signor Monteverde suggested you may not have brought enough clothes with you on short notice from America.”
“Did he? Well, I guess I didn’t,” Sabrina said. What nanny would have brought enough clothes for a double life – nanny and bank employee and dinner guest? No one.
Mirella spread more clothes on a chair. Sabrina caught a glimpse of labels – Gucci, Prada and Armania. Under the formal attire was a stack of casual clothes - linen pants and shorts, and casual cotton dresses, the kind the smart women on the lake wore. She gasped. These clothes must have cost a fortune.
“With the suit, just a touch of makeup?” the secretary said.
Sabrina shrugged. “You know best,” she said, too tired to protest and knowing she was out of her element. “I didn’t really expect to be here today.” Expect the unexpected , she reminded herself and allowed the secretary to play the role of make-over artist at which she clearly excelled. “I don’t understand how you had time to buy all these clothes,” she