Page 86 of Blue Gold

ELLIOT

It was too hot to hold an event outside. To make matters worse, I had to wear a three-piece suit for this car show. And on top of all, no one bothered to turn on the AC in the convertible I was modeling in.

“Turn your head to the left,” the Italian photographer directed me, his words followed by the nonstop sound of his camera.

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

I slightly changed my position with each take, my head pounding like crazy the whole time.

“Now, put your hand on the steering wheel, show me that sexy watch,” he said with a heavy accent.

I did as I was told.

“Ah, perfetto!” Snap. Snap. Snap. “You were born to be in a Ferrari.” Snap. Snap. Snap. “Oh, bellissimo, what a face!” Snap. Snap. Snap.

My headache was only getting worse, so I couldn’t have been happier when the photographer said he had everything he needed and that we were done for now.

Getting out of the car, which truly was gorgeous, I unbuttoned the suit jacket in hopes it would help me cool down, when the producer of the show came over to me.

“We want you next to the Porsche. Okay?” he said in English, voice tight like he was running out of time. From the sweat on his forehead, I guessed he was either hot or nervous. Probably both.

Even though I was tired and wanted to return to my room and rest after working in the sun the whole day, I nodded. It wasn’t like I had a choice. My agent, Robert, warned me to behave nicely, especially when he was away. He’d often accompany me when he could, and I was always happy when he couldn’t—other than being rude, he smelled bad. Not because he didn’t use cologne, but the other way around. He showered in it, unaware that the fragrance he picked didn’t at all go well with his natural body scent. I knew it sounded ridiculous, but finding the right fragrance was a work of art, and very few people I knew actually wore one that complemented them. But some did, and I immediately thought about citrus—oranges in particular—blended with sandalwood. That was my absolute favorite scent that so happened to belong to one man.

I miss him.

After giving me a few more instructions, the producer moved on to speak to some staff. Just then, my stomach made an unpleasant sound. Thankfully, no one was near me to hear it growling like a starved beast. I bit my lip and looked around to track down a waitress. Knowing I had to get something into my system, I went over to her.

“Sorry, can you…” The headache made it harder to translate my words to English. “Euh, can you help me?”

“Of course, sir, what can I do for you?” she spoke back in French, and I could almost kiss her I was so relieved.

“You’re French?”

“Yes, sir. From Marcey.” She then gave me a small smile. “I’m a big fan… I even have a poster of you.”

“Oh, that’s nice…” On a normal day, I would have started a conversation because it was always nice meeting fans, but my headache was only getting worse. “Is there any way you could get me an iced Americano?”

“Yes, of course.”

I pressed my palms together while flashing her my best smile. “Thank you.”

Once she walked away, I took a deep breath. I truly needed a cigarette. Sadly, I didn’t have one. Shit. Maybe I could ask someone⁠—

“Do you happen to know where the Ferraris are?”

The familiar voice made my heart stop, and I turned around immediately.

“Daniel?” I gasped, shocked that he was right here, standing on the grass next to me, looking as handsome as always.

“That is indeed my name.” The asshole smirked.

Unable to hold back a smile, I shook my head. “What are you doing here?”

“Someone told me about this car show… so I came.”