That’s the beauty of old money. Having it means that people are far more forgiving and, frankly, far more interested in getting on your good side.
“Mademoiselle,” the host greets me, almost bouncing in his excitement. “It is an honor that you will be dining with us again tonight.”
I hum noncommittally, “Is my table ready?”
“Why, of course. Please follow me,” he abandons his post entirely to escort me through the extravagant room, leaving more than a few disgruntled guests behind in his wake.
“Your guest has already arrived,” he comments softly as we weave around the tables. I note more than a few eyes on me as I go. Not-so-subtle husbands stare with longing in their sad little eyes.
One glance around the room tells me all I need to know. There’s no one here of my caliber this evening. A pity, really. I was really hoping I might be able to rile Teo up a bit.
I glance back at the host. He isn’t entirely unattractive, really.
But as we arrive at the private table at the very back of the room, the thought begins to feel laughable.
Another reason for bringing Teo Vitale here was to disarm him. I’ve read his profile. His parents left him penniless, and he had been a charity case within the Moretti family for seventeen years. Sure, he’s inherited the Guild’s wealth now that he’s don, but…but he was supposed to be uncomfortable in a place as extravagant as this.
Yet there he is, casually sipping red wine as if he was born with a wine glass in his hand. He seems entirely unperturbed by our surroundings.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” I greet him as casually as I can.
But my mouth instantly dries when he turns those endlessly dark eyes on me.
It’s unfair, really, how beautiful he is. His long hair should look scruffy, not tasteful, as it curls almost to his shoulders. His nose and jaw are refined in a way that even the ancient Greeks would struggle to recreate in their sculptures.
It also doesn’t help that he looks me up and down with that desperately hungry look in his eyes.
For the first time since suggesting this plan, I suddenly feel nervous that I might fail.
“I would wait on a woman like you for the rest of my life,” he flirts back.
I bite my lip, watching in satisfaction as his eyes drop to the movement, before taking my seat next to him.
“May I get you anything, mademoiselle?”the host says, drawing my attention away.
I make a show of placing my hand on his arm as I smile brilliantly up at him. “Champagne, I think. We’re celebrating, you see.”
The casual touch has its desired effect. The host’s face flushes brilliantly.
“Our anniversary, right,belle?”
I snap my gaze over to see Teo glaring at my hand, a tight expression on his face. I blink, and then he smiles again condescendingly.
Two can play at that game. “Of course,darling.”
I release the host, not bothering to watch as he scrambles away in embarrassment.
“As flattered as I am, Vitale,” I begin, crossing my leg over the other, “you’ll forgive me for not wanting to be associated with you beyond this table.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he replies innocently.
“I’m not sure you’re capable of doing anything right.”
Teo narrows his eyes slightly. “Why am I alive, Isabella?”
Another server—the poor Host seems to have returned to his post—pours champagne into my glass over my shoulder. I wait until they’ve moved on before continuing.
“I’ve always thought diplomacy garners more effective results than throwing people down stairwells,” I reply evenly.
