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“This solution will be easy to implement?” he asked me. “On the other cryptocurrencies, as well?”
I nodded. “It will be a lot of work, but the solutions themselves are simple. Easy, but time-intensive. Although nowhere near as bad as Edoardo made it out to be.”
Furio sighed with relief, like a tremendous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I was beginning to fear that my purchase of this company was done too eagerly.”
“Are you kidding?” I replied. “The way things are going,eTodois going to be one of the largest crypto exchanges in Italy within the year. It was a fantastic investment, and it is a testament to your knowledge of the industry.”
Furio shrugged, but smiled, too. “My knowledge is merely, ah, as you say, on the surface. It is not deep.”
“It’s deep enough to make good investment decisions,” I replied. “And the questions you asked when you were in San Francisco? You know way more than most people I’ve talked to who don’t work in the industry.”
He smiled genuinely at my compliment, then excused himself to use the bathroom. I smiled after him as he went, taking a long appreciative glance at the way his dress pants hugged his thighs and butt.
I wonder what he looks like in normal street clothes. Or without wearing any clothes at all.
The thought made me giggle to myself, but then my smile faded. I had Jude and Owen back home. Should I really be having these thoughts about Furio? Was it wrong?
Do I have a future with either of them, though? They’re my bosses. More literally than Furio is, too.
The question was like a blackberry seed in my teeth, and within seconds I couldn’t ignore it. Doing some quick time-zone math, I sent two text messages. It was the exact same message, one to Owen and one to Jude.
Me: Blunt question time: do you ever think about things getting more serious? Or do you want it to stay casual between us?
It was eight in the morning in San Francisco. Jude would be in the office by now, but Owen would still be at his condo, making breakfast. I pictured each of them receiving the text and reading it.
Owen replied first.
Owen: And sit down with Melinda to sign two new disclosure forms? That’s way too much work, kid.
Jude’s response was right behind him.
Jude: I am not sure. ACS is growing so quickly, and to have a more open relationship in front of all the new employees… It would complicate things. The organization structure would need to be adjusted so that you do not directly report to me. But even then, the optics would be terrible.
Jude: Can we keep things simple for now? I don’t want to jeopardize anything with the company, and especially with regards to your stock options.
I read both messages twice. Owen’s joking nature, and Jude’s calm rationalism. I understood both responses. Logically, they made sense.
But I still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. I wantedmorewith them. And if they couldn’t give that to me…
“Why do you look this way?” Furio asked, returning to the table. “What news have you received to give you such a sad face?”
I smiled and put my phone away. “Annoying work stuff back home. Nothing important. Just stuff I have to handle when I get back.”
“Forget your work back in San Francisco,” Furio said, gesturing all around us with his wine glass. “Tonight, you are in Rome! I must insist that you relax and savor the city that I love so.”
As we finished the bottle of wine and then ate delicious pasta, Ididbegin to relax. It was easy around Furio. He was so disarming and soothing to talk to. I was nervous around him, sure, but also totally at ease. Like he was an old friend rather than someone I had only seen in person twice before.
When I first met Jude at the rooftop bar, I gave him a long-winded rant about billionaires. I had a firm picture of them in my head: arrogant young tech founders, or shriveled old men who owned industrial companies. I thought of them asevil, businessmen who leeched off the general public and rarely gave anything back.
Yet my notion had been completely flipped on its head. Furio wasn’t either of those caricatures in my head. He was young, butlikable. Wealthy, but humble. Down to earth in a way that made it easy to talk to him.
Our conversation drifted across a dozen topics. The weather here compared to California. Modern Italian politics and the ease of trade that had come with the formation of the European Union. The new Ben Stiller movie, which was dubbed-overterriblyinto Italian. My time at Berkeley, and the degree in Business Administration that Furio received from Oxford, where he became more fluent in English. I told him I couldn’t imagine trying to absorb academic knowledge in a second language. He said it was difficult, but it helped him learn to push through adversity in life. It shaped him into the man he has become.
He ordered a bottle of sweet dessert wine, which paired well with a plate of cream-filled pastries. Coffee came after—rich and smooth and creamy despite containing no cream—and then Furio was pulling out my chair for me and leading me by the arm to the car that was waiting.
Furio’s estate was half an hour outside of the city. We drove through rolling hills in the countryside before coming to an elaborate gate that opened automatically. Down a long driveway we went, flanked on either side by tall cypress trees, before coming to a sprawling manor home. I gawked as an attendant opened my door and I stepped into the courtyard where the cars were parked. The manor home was two massive stories tall, and stretched to the left and the right for what seemed like far too long for any house, even a billionaire’s.
The interior was every bit as awe-inspiring. Vaulted ceilings were high above me, with scrollwork chiseled into the molding. Sculpted friezes stretched along the walls around me, and white marble floors that were polished to a perfect shine. Before me, at the end of the entrance room, rose twin staircases that ran up and around like ram’s horns.
