‘It must be quite a culture shock for a barman, eh?’ she said.
‘Senior cocktail waiter,’ Dante corrected her.
The smile faded. ‘Pardon?’
‘That was my job title: Senior Cocktail Waiter.’
‘Oh, you were a waiter ,’ Eleanor said. ‘In that case, shouldn’t you be the one dishing up the soup?’ She started tittering. ‘Only teasing,’ she added insincerely. ‘Did you live above the bar?’
Nicole could see a vein in Dante’s temple throbbing.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I shared an apartment a couple of miles away.’
‘You shared ,’ Eleanor said, as if it were quite the most appalling concept she’d ever heard of. ‘In that case living here must be quite a step up for you. I bet you couldn’t believe your luck when you saw the house for the first time.’
‘Of course he couldn’t,’ Nicole said, painfully aware of the blush unfurling across Dante’s face. ‘Any one of us would be grateful to live in a beautiful place like Ashwicke.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Yasmin. ‘And I’m sure Dante’s going to be a huge help with the business.’
‘Invaluable,’ Juliet agreed. ‘He’s worked in the service industry ever since he left school. I daresay he’ll be able to teach me a thing or two.’ She smiled in her husband’s direction. ‘Actually, I was thinking about making him Customer Liaison Manager. Nathan’s so busy these days; it would be nice to offload some of his responsibilities onto Dante – and I’m sure he’s more than capable of doing it. Aren’t you, darling?’
Dante, who seemed to be growing more uncomfortable by the minute, nodded mutely.
Juliet’s father, Richard, a tall, gingery man who’d barely said a thing all evening, smiled at Dante. ‘Have you had a chance to explore the local area?’
Dante seemed grateful for the change of subject. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I’d like to, though. Juliet tells me there’s beautiful countryside around here.’
‘I’ve been so busy with the hotel I haven’t had much time to show Dante the sights,’ Juliet explained.
‘I’m happy to take Dante on a recce,’ Piers piped up.
Juliet looked vaguely alarmed at the prospect. ‘That’s very sweet of you to offer, but really there’s no need.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Piers, tossing down his napkin. ‘How else are we going to get to know each other?’ He turned to Dante. ‘Tell you what, I’m going deer hunting with a few other chaps next week. Why don’t you tag along?’
Dante’s soup spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll give it a miss. Hunting’s not really my thing.’
Catherine clucked disapprovingly. ‘Oh go on, Dante. It’ll be heaps of fun.’
‘The thing is …’ Dante squirmed in his seat. ‘I don’t agree with killing animals for sport.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sakes, man, don’t be such a namby-pamby,’ Piers said with a startling degree of vitriol. ‘Hunting’s part of everyday life in the country.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Dante replied. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to participate in it.’
‘But those deer are a bloody pest. They cause millions of pounds’ worth of damage to forestry and agriculture. Killing them is the only way to keep the blighters under control.’
Dante shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
His nonchalant demeanour seemed to rile the older man. ‘Now look here, old chap,’ Piers said, his face flushed with emotion, ‘if you’re going to live in the country, you can’t afford to be so bloody sensitive, or else –’
‘No offence, Piers, but yours is actually quite an outdated view,’ Yasmin suddenly broke in.
He glowered at her. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’
‘I work for one of the highest circulation regional newspapers in the country,’ she said smoothly. ‘We ran a poll a couple of months ago. More than seventy per cent of our readers were against hunting of any kind.’
Piers made a harrumphing noise. ‘Were they
‘Senior cocktail waiter,’ Dante corrected her.
The smile faded. ‘Pardon?’
‘That was my job title: Senior Cocktail Waiter.’
‘Oh, you were a waiter ,’ Eleanor said. ‘In that case, shouldn’t you be the one dishing up the soup?’ She started tittering. ‘Only teasing,’ she added insincerely. ‘Did you live above the bar?’
Nicole could see a vein in Dante’s temple throbbing.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I shared an apartment a couple of miles away.’
‘You shared ,’ Eleanor said, as if it were quite the most appalling concept she’d ever heard of. ‘In that case living here must be quite a step up for you. I bet you couldn’t believe your luck when you saw the house for the first time.’
‘Of course he couldn’t,’ Nicole said, painfully aware of the blush unfurling across Dante’s face. ‘Any one of us would be grateful to live in a beautiful place like Ashwicke.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Yasmin. ‘And I’m sure Dante’s going to be a huge help with the business.’
‘Invaluable,’ Juliet agreed. ‘He’s worked in the service industry ever since he left school. I daresay he’ll be able to teach me a thing or two.’ She smiled in her husband’s direction. ‘Actually, I was thinking about making him Customer Liaison Manager. Nathan’s so busy these days; it would be nice to offload some of his responsibilities onto Dante – and I’m sure he’s more than capable of doing it. Aren’t you, darling?’
Dante, who seemed to be growing more uncomfortable by the minute, nodded mutely.
Juliet’s father, Richard, a tall, gingery man who’d barely said a thing all evening, smiled at Dante. ‘Have you had a chance to explore the local area?’
Dante seemed grateful for the change of subject. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘I’d like to, though. Juliet tells me there’s beautiful countryside around here.’
‘I’ve been so busy with the hotel I haven’t had much time to show Dante the sights,’ Juliet explained.
‘I’m happy to take Dante on a recce,’ Piers piped up.
Juliet looked vaguely alarmed at the prospect. ‘That’s very sweet of you to offer, but really there’s no need.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Piers, tossing down his napkin. ‘How else are we going to get to know each other?’ He turned to Dante. ‘Tell you what, I’m going deer hunting with a few other chaps next week. Why don’t you tag along?’
Dante’s soup spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll give it a miss. Hunting’s not really my thing.’
Catherine clucked disapprovingly. ‘Oh go on, Dante. It’ll be heaps of fun.’
‘The thing is …’ Dante squirmed in his seat. ‘I don’t agree with killing animals for sport.’
‘Oh for goodness’ sakes, man, don’t be such a namby-pamby,’ Piers said with a startling degree of vitriol. ‘Hunting’s part of everyday life in the country.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Dante replied. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to participate in it.’
‘But those deer are a bloody pest. They cause millions of pounds’ worth of damage to forestry and agriculture. Killing them is the only way to keep the blighters under control.’
Dante shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
His nonchalant demeanour seemed to rile the older man. ‘Now look here, old chap,’ Piers said, his face flushed with emotion, ‘if you’re going to live in the country, you can’t afford to be so bloody sensitive, or else –’
‘No offence, Piers, but yours is actually quite an outdated view,’ Yasmin suddenly broke in.
He glowered at her. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’
‘I work for one of the highest circulation regional newspapers in the country,’ she said smoothly. ‘We ran a poll a couple of months ago. More than seventy per cent of our readers were against hunting of any kind.’
Piers made a harrumphing noise. ‘Were they
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