Midnight in Venice by Meadow Taylor Read Free Book Online

handing them theirs before raising his own. “Welcome to Venice,” he said, and they touched glasses. “While we have our wine, I can show you your office, but first, let me give you this,” he said, handing her a new iPhone; she was going to have to put her other phone away somewhere so she didn’t mix them up. “It’s on the company account. Use it for all your calls and texts, including any you want to make home to Canada. Don’t worry about the expense. It’s not like Canada.”
    Olivia laughed. She turned on her new phone and saw a list of names and numbers, including Silvio, Marco, Dino, her mother, and her sister.
    â€œAll our staff and clients are already programmed in. The staff members prefer to text each other—they find it much less invasive than a call. I prefer it too. It gives time to think before replying, and it’s easier to ignore if I’m in the middle of something with a client. And it doesn’t matter if you’re in the next room or on the other side of the world. It’s something I still find amazing—but then I don’t share your cousin’s comfort with technology, one of the many reasons I like to have him around. Now, let’s go see your office.”
    Her office was one of the rooms encircling the
piano nobile
. A large desk dominated the room, and the computer at its center was the only obvious modern intrusion. There was a balcony with a view of the courtyard, and in the corner, a cabinet that held Murano glassware, some new and some old. Olivia regarded the glass pieces with awe. “That’s sixteenth century,” she exclaimed.
    â€œYou’re right. Murano glass is a big part of our business, so it’s important you know it well. After Christmas, you’ll meet many glass artists as well as dealers. You’ll learn what makes a piece particularly valuable and what our various clients are looking for. In fact, I wondered if you and Marco were part of the famous Moretti glassmaking family. While Marco assures me it is only a coincidence, it certainly won’t hurt to have that name around here.”
    Most of the staff was already off for Christmas, but on the way out for dinner, Silvio showed her the ground floor and introduced her to Luigi, a diminutive man in his mid-fifties, whose small features were dominated by a large mustache. “Luigi here oversees the packing of every item to ensure it arrives safely at its destination and deals with Customs and other unglamorous but important things like that.” The ground floor was devoted mainly to storage and workrooms. It was prone to flooding, and Luigi demonstrated how all the benches could be raised with the help of a rope-and-pulley system.
    They exited by the water entrance, and Silvio helped her onto the water taxi that was waiting for them. “We meet again,” Dino said. And while his smile seemed genuine enough, Olivia felt some of her earlier unease. But she knew first impressions could be hard to shake, and she resolved to overcome them.
    Their destination that night was the Fortuny Restaurant in the Hotel Cipriani on Giudecca Island, and they were soon skimming down the Grand Canal, past the Piazza San Marco. They sat in the back of the boat, and Olivia held back her hair to keep it from flying in her face. Despite the winter wind, she felt like Katharine Hepburn in the movie
Summertime
. Silvio was extolling the virtues of Fortuny’s when Olivia remembered something about the restaurant.
    â€œThe Cipriani family invented the Bellini cocktail, right? There’s a restaurant called Cipriani in New York. I’ve never eaten there, of course. I’ve only been to New York twice, and my dining was mostly limited to hot dog carts.”
    â€œWell, perhaps when you’re there in early February, I’ll make reservations for you.”
    â€œI’m going to New York in February? she asked, surprised.
    â€œMarco