buyer is as close as I’m going to get. And it’s the greatest job I ever could have asked for.” Her hands came together at the front of her waist as she stayed several inches away from me. When we weren’t alone in a bedroom together, she kept her distance, keeping it professional between us like we weren’t sleeping together. “What do you think?”
I didn’t think I could leave behind a painting that she admired so much. It made the image more meaningful to me, made me feel like I owned a piece of her. “I’ll take it.”
She turned her head my way, her green eyes beautiful under the art lights. If someone painted a portrait of her, I would buy it in a heartbeat—whatever the price might be. “You’re sure? It’s a big responsibility.”
“Having a painting?” I asked incredulously.
“This isn’t just a painting. It’s a piece of history. Artwork isn’t something you ever truly own. It’s like a home. You keep it for a while, enjoy it for decades. But when you’re finished, you sell it to someone else. It’s never really yours to begin with. You’re just paying to borrow it—for a period of time.”
I hated listening to anyone talk, but I could listen to her talk forever. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“It’ll have to hang on the northern wall so it doesn’t get direct sunlight. As long as no one bumps into it or anything, it should be okay. If any of your clients knows anything about art, they’ll recognize it right away. And that could always be a good conversation starter.”
There wasn’t much talking that took place between my clients and me—except about money. “Let’s make the transfer. Then we’ll have dinner.”
“Of course.” Siena left the hall to handle the deal with the manager of the museum.
I stayed behind and stared at the painting I’d just bought—something that would remind me of Siena every time I looked at it.
The painting would be carefully transported by car the following day, so Siena and I went to dinner at one of my favorite bistros. Giovanni called ahead and told them I was coming, so they set aside their private room just for me and my date.
Siena sat across from me with her shoulders back and her posture perfect. The menu was open in her hands, and her hair naturally settled across her shoulders with her slight movements.
I ignored the menu and focused on her instead. I could have taken her to my home in Milan and fucked her instead of taking her out to dinner, but spending the evening with her over a bottle of wine didn’t sound so terrible.
It was the most interesting part of my day.
“I’m getting the lasagna.” She shut the menu. “What about you?”
“The chicken.” I filled my glass and took another drink.
She opened the menu again and took a peek. “That doesn’t come with cheese.”
“So?”
“Who goes to an Italian restaurant and orders something without cheese?” She examined the bottle on the table and read the label. “This is a good bottle of wine. You’re a fan of the Barsetti vineyards?”
“They make the best wine. And no, I don’t eat cheese.”
“Lactose intolerant?”
“No.” I couldn’t eat anything with fat or carbs to keep up this appearance.
“If the doctors told me I couldn’t eat cheese, I would just do it anyway. There’s no consequence I wouldn’t face.” She swirled her wine as she looked around the empty room. The other side of the restaurant was full of people, but our side was nearly silent. Low-burning candles were at the empty tables, and the distant sound of classical music came from the other room. She looked out the window for a few seconds before her eyes turned back to me.
Brilliant like gems, her green eyes were as vibrant as the forest after a spring rain. They were so clear and bright, reflecting the light from the candles but also emitting their own sparkle. She wasn’t just a beautiful woman, the likes of which could be found by the dozen. Her unique qualities made her unforgettable, like the sexy curve of her upper lip and the plumpness of her bottom one. Her beauty was easily dwarfed by her poise. While some women were vain about their appearance, she was simply confident. She didn’t think too much about her looks, but not too little either.
I was so transfixed by her perfection I nearly failed to notice the waiter approach our table. “The lady will have the lasagna.