Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(47)

“No, it’s okay. Thank you.”

“Petra doesn’t have social media,” adds Rach.

Jess gapes in shock. “What? You’re kidding. Not even Instagram?”

“No. Just WhatsApp.”

The pilot and the cabin supervisor step in and greet Andrew before welcoming the rest of the group. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Richard Heinze, and I will be the pilot onboard this flight, destination Ciampino Airport, Rome. The flight duration is expected to be between eight and nine hours. If the weather remains stable, we should arrive by ten p.m. local time, four p.m. Eastern Standard Time. If you have any questions, please ask my colleague, Sabrina, who is supervising the cabin crew. I wish you all a very pleasant flight.”

We all smile and thank the pilot for his message, but he stares especially at me and nods. I look down, hoping no one else noticed.





While everyone is discussing their plans for Rome, how to retire at the age of fifty, and whether it would be worthwhile to own a plane, I excuse myself and retreat to the beige leather sofa at the very back of the cabin with my book and noise-canceling earbuds.

“What’s wrong, Williams? Everyone seems excited about Rome but you. Are you missing your desk already?” teases Andrew, sitting beside me on the sofa.

Although I’m annoyed at being disturbed, I remove my earbuds out of politeness. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I just like to be in my corner and read.”

But Andrew’s feeling chatty. “Is it your first time abroad?”

“No, I’ve been abroad many times. I’m alright, really.” I conclude with a polite smile, my eyes shifting back to my book, yet Andrew seems to be studying me.

“If you want to talk, I’m here. I know you like to play tough, but we are all human. We all have our ups and downs.”

Wow. It doesn’t sound like Andrew at all. His tone is more caring, empathetic, sensitive, and compassionate. Heck, it even feels quite reassuring.

“I’m just…” I let out a breath. “I’m missing a guy in New York, and he is not even my boyfriend...”

“See? Was that so hard to get off your chest?”

“A bit.”

“Glad to know there is more than work in your life. I thought you had a heart made of stone.”

“Well, the worst part is, he’s not even interested in me. We are just friends. He has tons of gorgeous women around him anyway…” I look down, thoughtful. “I just hope this trip will help me forget him.” Oops! I feel like I’ve just said too much.

Andrew swallows hard and leans slightly closer to me. “If you feel like talking about it, I’m free the last evening before we come back. We can have dinner somewhere nice… I mean, just a friendly one—nothing else.”

I don’t know what to say. Is he bluffing? Or does he have some twisted intention in mind? I can’t tell. However, I do recall Alex warning me.

“Thanks for the invite,” I politely reply before reopening my book.

He sighs, maybe disappointed, but finally leaves.





Even at ten p.m., Rome is a cauldron of heat. A warm breeze welcomes Andrew and his interns as we step down from the plane and head to the three black executive Mercedes waiting right in front of us on the tarmac.

“Feels so good to be back.” Andrew takes a deep breath and gets into the first car.

We make our way to the St. Regis, a landmark in the downtown featuring a nineteenth-century elevator—the oldest in Italy (and still functioning).

As we arrive, Jess and Rach have already taken out their smartphones to take pictures of the hotel entrance—on the left the beautiful marble stairs, and on the right, the reception where Andrew’s handling our checkin. They walk toward a sumptuous, imperial-inspired grand lobby. It’s styled with gray tones from the marble walls and chess-patterned floor to the sofas. The carpets and pillows have a touch of gold, and there’s an opulent crystal chandelier at the center of the hand-painted ceiling. A perfect mixture of modern luxury and classic grandeur. Jess and Rach sit on one of the sofas, while Luke does his best to get the perfect angle for their pics.

“Have you seen this place, Williams?” shouts Jess, as I’m still standing at the entrance.

“It looks very nice.”

Andrew joins us with our key cards in hand. “Alright, everyone. Here are the key cards for your respective rooms. We’ll meet tomorrow for breakfast at seven o’clock, and at eight thirty, I want you all in the Ritz Ballroom, where the conference will begin. No one should be late, and you should all be in a good mood and ready to be sociable. Don’t forget you represent the company. Consider this still part of your internship.” He stares particularly at me, known for being tardy and quite reserved. “Very well. I wish you all a great night. Buonanotte, folks.”





My bedroom is modern, elegant, and spacious, decorated in imperial gray tones with a high ceiling and curtains tied back with a sash. I look out through the window; I’ve got a nice view down to the street, still full of locals and lovers hand-in-hand strolling around, enjoying the warm breeze of the night. I let out a sigh. With my mind flying away, I can’t help but picture myself out there with him… Damn, so silly you are, girl!

Indeed, he’s my godfather and friend—that’s it. Plus, let’s face it—tonight he’ll most likely be out partying with some random chick in New York… Which is how it should be!