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“How so?”
He slammed the book shut and shoved it across his desk. “I have interviewed over three hundred applicants for the Franco Foundation. Some of them have over thirty years of experience under their belts.” Luca nodded at the chair across from his desk, and I sat without further instruction. “I only have one question, and then you can leave.”
“I don’t understand why I’m here.”
He steepled his hands on the desk, his face expressionless as he fixed his intense blue eyes on me. “To celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of my mother’s death, we’re planning an event to showcase modern recreations of her work. The Franco Foundation has been looking for someone with her skill for over a year.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So this is a job interview?”
Ignoring my question, he leaned forward, his voice deep and smooth. “What qualifies you for this position?”
“Are you serious?”
He nodded.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Um… Your mother is my favorite artist,” I said, speaking from the heart. “I may not be as talented as my peers, but I can capture what you’re looking for.”
He shook his head and kicked his dress shoe up on the edge of the desk. “I disagree. Your work is far superior to Madeline Laveau and Dean Rochester. They can sell out galleries around the world, but neither of them can capture my mother’s spirit. Not like you, Drea. You understand the heart and soul of her art.”
As he leaned forward, he rested his elbows on his desk. A chill rushed down my arms from his sudden closeness. The five feet which separated us didn’t feel like enough when he looked into my eyes, studying my face.
I sat up straight and grinned. “Does this mean I have the job?”
He rose from the chair and tugged at his gold tie. “My father is hosting a party next weekend at our estate. I’ve invited all the applicants. Attendance is mandatory.”
“I never applied for the job,” I cut in, voice trembling. “In fact, I didn’t even know it existed until now.”
“One of the many benefits of being my wife.”
My lips parted. “I never agreed to marry you.”
“You have to choose, Drea. Why do you think you’re here? By the end of the summer, you will pick one of us. I’m only make it easier for you to decide.”
“I don’t want a pity job. You can keep it.” With my portfolio clutched under my arm, I shot up from the chair. “I’ll see myself out.”
Luca raised his hand. “I spoke to your grandfather. Carl assured me you will be more compliant this time. Are we going to have problems, Drea?”
I drew a breath from between my teeth, gripping the leather portfolio. “No.”
“Your first solo exhibition is in one month at the Blackwell Gallery.”
My lips parted in shock. “Blackwell? Are you serious?”
Luca nodded. “It’s not the Museum of Modern Art but it’s a start.”
“Thank you.” I covered my racing heart with my hand, feeling each beat beneath my palm. “Wow. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Say you’ll prepare for the showing.” He moved around the desk until he was standing before me. “Don’t embarrass me. I had to pull a lot of strings to make this happen.”
“I appreciate your help. But what I don’t appreciate is your attitude. You’ve been rude from the moment I walked into your office.”
He scratched the corner of his jaw. “The children always pay for the sins of the parents.”
Am I here because of my mother?
She hated Evangeline Franco with unbridled passion. Years ago, my mother was engaged to Arlo Salvatore. And after she walked away from the marriage and lost everything, she regretted her decision. Then Arlo married Evangeline and made her one of the most famous artists in the world. It only fueled my mother’s rage, and she took all of her anger out on me.
I followed Luca to the entrance doors, sick to my stomach over his strange behavior. Instead of opening the door, he leaned his back against the wood and turned to face me. I almost crashed into him and grabbed his shoulder for support.
