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I returned to my office and immediately Googled the man. Furio Rossi, son of Alessandro Rossi, grandson ofSilvioRossi, who was a Duke back before the nobility was abolished.
Oh my God. He’s a Duke! Or at least, he might as well be.
He owned tens of thousands of hectares in the Italian countryside. Apparently a hectare was two and a half acres. I tried to imagine how big fifty thousand acres was. In the United States, maybe that wasn’t very large. But in a smaller country like Italy? It could practically be its own country. I kept Googling for comparisons. Luxembourg was about ten times as large as the land Furio Rossi owned. And Luxembourg, although small, was at least visible on a map.
He owns one tenth of Luxembourg! But in Italy!
There weren’t a lot of photos of Furio online. The same ten or twenty photos showed up over and over; photos of Furio at charitable galas and other celebrity events. For whatever reason, the Italian paparazzi seemed to leave him alone. I wondered if he paid them off. That’s what I would do if I had his net worth.
A billionaire kissed my hand and told me I was exquisite.
It was strange thinking of it that way. I had been sleeping with Owen March and Jude Cauthon, two Silicon Valley billionaires. That was thrilling, sure. But Furio Rossi felt different. An old-world billionaire. A single man in a long line of rich and powerful men, who had grown into his status the way a child grows into a suit.
An expensive Italian suit.
Finally I glanced at the clock and realized I had been cyber-stalking him for nearly an hour. I needed to get some real work done.
Yet as I closed the tab and opened my coding program, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man downstairs. His exotic cologne was stuck to the inside of my nose, and I kept inhaling deeply in the hopes of catching another whiff of it.
As the hours ticked by, I wondered how the contract signing was going. Lunch was delivered to the conference room downstairs. Nobody came in or out, not even to use the bathroom. Nancy and Will Won both messaged me to ask if everything was okay with the meeting. Since I was a manager, and not someone who could gossip with them, I said that I was sure everything was fine.
But deep down, I wondered…
It wasn’t until five o’clock when the conference room door finally opened and everyone came walking out, laughing like they were all good friends. I felt myself breathe a sigh of relief. I couldn’t see them from upstairs—I could only hear them—but it seemed clear that everything had gone well.
Dorce, Melinda: It’s done. The deal is signed! We officially have Series A financing! Furio Rossi now owns 45% of ACS.
Moltisanti, Amber: WOOHOO! Do we have champagne?
Dorce, Melinda: I think Jude and Owen are taking Furio out to dinner to celebrate. When they leave, we can have our own party.
“We’re happy to go wherever you want,” Owen was saying as the men came up the stairs. “If you know of a good place, we’ll defer to you.”
“It is the restaurant of an old family friend,” Furio was saying in that intoxicating Italian accent. I kept my eyes glued on my computer monitor even though they were outside my office, in my periphery. “It will be quite nice.”
“Then it’s settled,” Owen said.
I felt Furio’s gaze sweep across my office like a warm summer breeze. “Perhaps we could invite your senior managers as well? To celebrate the new collaboration.”
“Right now, that’s just Amber,” Jude explained. “All the other coders are under her.”
“Excellent!” Now Furio took a step into the doorway of my office. “Amber? Would you accompany us to dinner?”
I made myself look at him again. It should be illegal for a man to look that sexy in a suit. He must have sold his soul to the devil. Nothing else made sense.
“Well,” I said, “I have a lot of work to do, and I don’t typically go out to eat…”
“Oh, I must insist,” Furio said, favoring me with another of his smiles. “You would honor us with your presence. And I am sure your opinion on technical matters would be vital.”
I tried to think of another, firmer excuse. But nothing came to mind. Furio seemed like the kind of man who was not used to taking no for an answer. And the way his eyes were boring into me, seducing me to come along…
“Please?” he asked. “I promise I do not bite.”
“Sure,” I said, unable to hold back a smile. “I’ll come.”
36
Amber
