Page 103 of Blue Gold

Embarrassed at being caught staring, I looked down at my lap. “I-I am sorry. I did not mean to look.”

“We can speak French.” He switched languages, his Italian accent less vivid now. “If it’s easier for you.”

Looking up, I saw he was still smiling at me, and it gave me a bit of confidence.

“T-that would be great.” I forced a smile. “I’m still not the best in English.”

“Why bother, right? It’s such an ugly language. There’s no music to it.”

He’s funny.

Vito’s smile dropped, and his expression turned serious. “Now, bello, where are you from?”

“Provence.”

“Beautiful.” With pursed lips, he nodded to himself. “One of my first collections was inspired by lavender. It was all about beautiful purples and blues.” He paused, his stare locking with mine. “Just like your eyes.”

I swallowed hard, the corner of my lips twitching. “T-thank you.”

Grabbing a pen from his desk, he once again leaned back in his chair. “Now, then, shall we cut to the chase?”

Shit. I’d hoped we’d talk more so Robert could get here already.

I glanced at the door before looking back at Vito. “Shouldn’t we wait for my agent⁠—”

“I hate agents.” Biting on the tip of his pen, he smirked. “All they care about is money, ignoring the main thing, which is?”

“Huh?”

He snapped his fingers. “What’s the point of all of this? Why are we here, Elliot?”

“Because of… f-fashion?”

“Art, my boy. This is all about the arts.”

Feeling stupid, my cheeks heated up, and I scolded myself for answering the wrong thing.

“O-oh.”

“Do you like art, tesoro?”

The intensity with which he studied me left me stunned, and I kept my stupid mouth shut so I wouldn’t embarrass myself further. There was a reason Robert always joined me in these things because words often failed me in important situations.

Bringing my hands to my lap, I cracked my knuckles. “I don’t know much about art,” I shamefully admitted, my stomach churning with fear I was failing.

“I find that hard to believe.”

I frowned at him. “I-I really don’t.”

“So what makes you think you’re suited to work with me?”

My heart sank to my stomach, and feeling like crying, I quickly bit on my bottom lip. There it was—my third rejection. Which was a hell of a lot worse than the first two. Now, I’d have to go back to working all around the world, which would create a bigger distance between Daniel and me until he got tired and⁠—

“I don’t know,” I forced myself to speak, my voice wavering. “I wish I knew something about art so I could have impressed you, but I don’t.” I swallowed hard. “In all honesty, there’s nothing special about me, and to answer your question… what makes me think I suit your brand? Well, I don’t think I do, even though I really want to. You’re classic, while I’m—” I’m the guy who sleeps with the husband behind his wife’s back. “—I’m not.”

No longer smiling, Vito let out a deep sigh as he crossed one leg over the other.

“That’s quite interesting.”