Сьюзен Мейер – One Passionate Night: Her Brooding Italian Boss / The Heiress's Secret Baby / Best Friend to Wife and Mother? (страница 13)
She stepped over a small stack of lumber and around some paint cans and walked through a door that took her into the huge back room, empty save for Antonio, who sat on a stool, staring at a blank canvas.
Light poured in from a bank of windows on the back wall and set the entire room aglow. She didn’t know much about painting, but she imagined lots of light was essential.
“Think of the devil and look who appears.”
She walked a little farther into the room. “Are you calling me Satan?”
“I’m telling you I was thinking about you.”
In a room with a blank canvas.
Because he wanted to paint her.
Because he thought she was classically beautiful.
Tingles pirouetted along her skin. She told herself to ignore them. He didn’t want what he felt for her and she did want this job. Acting like a PA had jarred her out of her feelings, so maybe forcing him to see her as a PA would jar him out of his.
She cleared her throat. “I have nothing to do.”
He sucked in a long breath and said, “Fine,” as he turned on the stool. But when he saw her, he burst out laughing. “Trying to tune in to my librarian fantasy?”
She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m trying to look like a PA so I get a fair shot at working for you.”
He rose from the stool and walked toward her, stopping mere inches in front of her. “You still want to work for me?”
Her heart jumped. The pirouetting tingles became little brush fires. A smart girl might take Constanzo’s severance and run. But though Laura Beth prided herself on being smart, she was also a woman who didn’t take charity and who liked a long-term plan. This one, working for Antonio, living in Italy, was a good one. She couldn’t afford New York. She didn’t want to burden her parents. Keeping this job was the right move.
Instead of stepping back, she stepped forward, into his personal space, showing him he couldn’t intimidate her. “Yes. I still want to work for you.”
“You’re a crazy woman.”
“I’m a desperate woman. Your confusion about painting me isn’t going to scare me.”
He out and out laughed at that. “Fine.”
She motioned to the door. “So let’s get back to the office and tackle those letters requesting commissions.”
* * *
He almost followed her to the door, but hesitated. He’d been thinking about painting her. Imagining it. Mentally feeling the sway of his brush along the canvas. The ease of movement of his arm and hand as they applied color and life to a blank space.
But his hand had shaken when he’d reached for a brush. His heart had pounded. His fingers refused to wrap around the thin handle.
“Come on, mister. I don’t have all day.”
He laughed. Dear God, how he wished he could get
He ran his shaky hand along his forehead as sadness poured through him. This place of being trapped between desire to paint and the reality that he couldn’t even pick up a brush was as hot and barren as hell.
And maybe she
He glanced at her simple skirt, the shirt made for a man, the too-big glasses. Or maybe she was right. Maybe she was just a single woman looking to make a life for herself, and
“I’m not ready to answer the letters about commissions yet.” He wasn’t sure why he’d said that, except that turning everything down really was like telling the world his career was over. “But maybe it’s time I looked at some of the invitations.”
“Invitations?”
“To parties and galas and gallery openings.” He caught her gaze. “Maybe it’s time for me to get out into the world again.”
Who would have thought it would be running from a pretty girl that would force him back into the world he didn’t want to face? If it weren’t for his fears around her, he’d be staying right where he was—hiding.
Instead, he was about to face his greatest fear—getting back into the public eye.
ANTONIO MANAGED TO find a gallery opening for that weekend. He called Olivia, his manager, putting his phone on speaker, and Laura Beth heard the astonishment in her friend’s voice when Antonio told her he would be leaving for Barcelona that evening and would be at the event on Saturday night.
“I hadn’t planned on going myself,” Olivia said, her voice the kind of astonished happy that made Laura Beth stifle a laugh, since Olivia didn’t know Laura Beth was in the room, or even that she was in Italy, working for Antonio. “But I can be on Tucker’s plane tomorrow morning. In fact, my parents can stay with the kids and Tucker and I will both come. We’ll make a romantic weekend of it.”
Laura Beth glanced at Antonio, who quickly looked away. “You know I’d love to see you, but I’ll be okay on my own.”
“Oh, no, you won’t!” Olivia immediately corrected. “You’ll probably start telling people you never want to paint again, and all those great commission offers will be off the table. I’m going.”
He laughed and Laura Beth watched him, a mixture of curiosity and admiration tumbling around inside her like black and white towels in a dryer.
He disconnected the call and rose from his desk. “I will be gone for the next few days. You have two choices. Enjoy the pool or sightsee.”
Watching him walk to the door, she swallowed. Had he just used work to get out of work? Maybe to show her she wasn’t needed?
When she didn’t answer him, Antonio motioned toward the door. “Come on, missy. I don’t have all day.”
Knowing she had no right to question him, she rose from her chair. “No fair using my own lines against me.”
He followed her out the door. “All’s fair.”
She knew the quote. She just didn’t know if he thought wanting to paint her was love or war.
* * *
Sitting alone in the huge, echoing dining room two nights later, Laura Beth felt like an idiot. She gathered her dish and silver and carried them into the kitchen.
Rosina about had a heart attack. “You are done? You barely ate two bites!”
“I’m lonely. I thought I’d come in here for company.”
“Francesca and Carmella are gone.”
She walked to the table and set down her plate. “But you’re still here.”
Rosina winced.
“Then I’ll talk to you.”
“You are a guest! You shouldn’t be in here and we’re not supposed to talk to you.”
“Did Antonio tell you that?”
“No. It’s good manners.”
“I’m not a guest. I’m an employee, like you. I should be eating in here. I
Rosina eased to the table, slowly took a seat. “
“I’m actually an IT person.” At Rosina’s frown, she clarified. “Information technology.” She took a bite of ravioli and groaned. “This is great.”
“You should eat lots of it.”
Laura Beth laughed. “And get big as a house?”
“You’re pregnant. You don’t need to worry about gaining a little weight.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
They chatted a bit about Rosina’s grandchildren. But the whole time they talked, Rosina looked over her shoulder, as if she was worried Antonio would arrive and scold her for fraternizing with his guests.