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“What are you wearing!”
I gave a little spin. I was wearing a sleeveless, floor-length pale-yellow silk taffeta, with a black sash around the waist. “Do you like it?”
Michelle grunted. “You look so beautiful I want to drown you in the bathtub. You’restunning, Amber! Where are you going, and more importantly, where did you get that?!”
“Furio bought it for me,” I said while touching up my makeup. “We went shopping for it yesterday. I’m his date to a charity thing tonight.”
She groaned loudly. “It’s not fair. You getthreeboyfriends, and they take you out to fancy events? The nicest place Phil has ever taken me is Ruth’s Chris.”
“That says more about Phil than it does about my boyfriends.” The doorbell suddenly rang. “You’re in luck. You get to meet him.”
Michelle let out a squeal of excitement and ran downstairs like a kid on Christmas morning. I gave myself one final look-over in the mirror, then followed.
Furio was standing in the foyer with his hands in the pockets of his tuxedo pants. He had chosen a cummerbund rather than a vest, and his hair was parted down the side and slicked back. He turned to watch me come down the stairs with an expression of awe on his face.
“There is not a more beautiful sight in all the world,” he breathed.
“Did you know you look like an Italian James Bond?” Michelle asked Furio, ruining the moment.
“I see you have met my sister, Shelly,” I said dryly.
“She was quite lovely,” Furio said, but his eyes never left the inspection of my body. “When we purchased the dress, I knew it would suit you well. But I did not expectthis. Amber, you will be a distraction to everyone at the event.”
I beamed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re sweet.” I turned to Michelle and said, “Don’t wait up. We might be home late.”
“Do you have any brothers?” she asked as Furio guided me down the walkway to a waiting limousine. “Maybe a brother who could show me that church in Italy? Or a sister? I experimented in college! I’m not picky!”
I gave her a parting glare over my shoulder before ducking into the limo.
“I like your sister,” Furio said. “She is very funny.”
“She’s something,” I muttered.
Furio opened a bottle of champagne for us to sip on while we drove into the city. The charity gala was hosted at the Bently Reserve in the financial district. The neo-classical building was fronted by eight tall columns, and the interior was resplendent in soft purple lighting, chandeliers, and tables covered with gold plates and crystal glassware.
A photographer took our picture just inside the door, and then Furio was guiding me deeper into the room. Men and women dressed in gowns and tuxedos filled the room, mingling in little clusters while nursing drinks. Every one of them turned toward us as we neared, calling out to Furio and jostling to shake his hand. Not much attention was paid to me, which I was perfectly happy with. For ten minutes, I felt like the girlfriend of a famous celebrity.
Once we had made our hellos to many of the guests, we reached the drink bar and ordered two glasses of wine. “The Hope for the Future Fund,” I said, reading the sign above the wide stage at the end of the room.
“I am one of the board members with several other investors based in San Francisco,” Furio explained. “We pool our money together, and then find worthwhile charities to give support to.”
“You wouldn’t rather give back in Italy?” I asked.
He chuckled lightly. “My family fortune is quite substantial, Amber. I can easily invest in both. And I do.”
Furio paused as another man came up and greeted him, then he turned back to me. “The old Italian noble families believed in giving back to the community, because it is the community in which they were allowed to thrive and obtain their wealth. During the Renaissance, many nobles would visit their local town square with wagonloads of food for the needy. Everyone was allowed to take a basket of bread, or cheese, or meat, or anything they needed.
“I do not believe this is enough,” he continued. “Food is a temporary solution to a long-term problem. Greater and greater amounts must be donated, in my opinion. Here in America, for example, one of your wealthiest men was famously charitable. Andrew Carnegie, I believe his name was, spent a tremendous amount of his wealth building libraries across the country. Helping to educate the people. A long-term solution, and part of the reason America is so great.”
“I have heard the story,” I said, feeling myself swooning at him. The night I had met Jude, I ranted to him about how modern billionaires needed to be more like Carnegie, and I specifically mentioned Carnegie libraries.
Maybe not all modern billionaires are awful.
For the next hour, Furio made his rounds among the guests, speaking for a few minutes at a time with each before moving on to the next group. He always introduced me, using my title of Senior Engineer and boasting about my technical abilities. I smiled to myself every time he said it. It made me feel like more than just the eye-candy on his arm, more than just someone whose only purpose was to smile and look pretty.
A lot of important people were in attendance: the mayor of San Francisco, several members of the state congress, and one of the United States Senators from California. There was even a tall, broad-shouldered man who seemed more interested in me than Furio. He introduced himself as Jimmy Garoppolo, a name which sounded vaguely familiar.
“I’m a huge fan of Advanced Crypto Solutions,” he said with a knowing smile.
