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I raised both my hands in surrender. “I’m going, I’m going.”
***
Floodlights danced across the night sky outside the Shrine Auditorium’s Expo Hall. My limo waited in line for the red carpet, and I distracted myself by watching each guest meet the press and paparazzi as they entered. Before long, it was my turn.
Lights flashed in my face, and voices seemed to come from every direction, yelling at me to face this way and that.
“The night’s most eligible bachelor has arrived.” A mic got shoved in my face, and it took me a second to make out the reporter’s face behind it. She was a beautiful woman but wore too much makeup. “Rumors of your pledge have been trending on socials all day, Mr. Moretti. Do you have anything to say about that?”
“Details will be in tomorrow’s release, like we do every year,” I replied curtly, giving her a winning smile to soften the blow.
As always, it worked, and the reporter blushed like a schoolgirl. I moved along the red carpet and got stopped again.
“Aren’t you tired of coming to these things alone?” the next reporter asked. “You once said a beautiful woman is the perfect accessory to any suit.”
Hearing a ten-year-old quote get thrown back at me made me chuckle. “I arrive alone, but I don’t go home that way.” I flashed the reporter a wink, and she buckled under the weight of it.
The ushers kept moving me swiftly along until we reached the entrance to the hall. Guests milled about with their pre-gala cocktails, and I scanned the crowd for the one face I wanted most to see.
“Looking for your secretary?” Scarlett’s voice came from right beside me.
I laughed softly and turned to her, getting ready to come back with a biting remark. But once I laid eyes on her, there was no hope of me saying anything. Possibly ever again. Whatever fantasy I had in my head became a cheap knock-off compared to the vision in front of me.
Her red locks were swept up on top of her head, with soft, romantic curls framing her face. Just enough to set off her milky complexion. Giorgio had outdone himself, choosing a bold Alexander McQueen gown in olive green. Sleeveless, crushed silk.
“You look…”
Scarlett smiled at me. “Are you okay? You look like you’re having a stroke.”
I laughed again, thankful for her ability to cut through the tension. It was something that made her even more attractive to me.
I extended my arm to her to hook into. “Shall we?”
She hesitated, but not for too long, and laced her arm through mine. I covered the hand resting on my forearm with my own, relishing any kind of contact I could get without drawing inappropriate attention our way.
A waiter came up to us almost immediately, holding out a serving tray with Champagne. I grabbed two glasses and handed one to Scarlett.
“You might want to keep these to a minimum,” I said. “You’re meant to be working, after all.”
She took a sip of her drink, licking the bitterness from her lips. “I translate better when my tongue’s a little loosened up.” She chuckled, clinking her glass against mine without warning. “Cheers.”
I watched her take another big gulp, laughing as she began coughing through the fizz.
“You fascinate me,” I said in utmost sincerity.
“How so?” she asked. “Because I don’t know how to drink expensive wine?”
I shook my head. “Because you look effortlessly beautiful in a pair of plain blue jeans, but put you in a dress and… it’s like you were born for a life of glamor. It suits you.”
The smile she wore wavered and then disappeared completely. “You mean I’m fine when I look poor but better when it looks like I have money?”
I had to do a double-take at that, because my meaning had obviously been lost somewhere. Internally cursing my native Italian side, I knew I had to try again.
“No, that isn’t what I meant.” I reached out to touch her elbow, but Scarlett flinched away from me as though I were a snake. The movement was slight, but it felt like a sledgehammer to my head. “Scarlett—”
“There’s more to life than money, Luca.” She glowered at me, the greens of her eyes even more pronounced than usual thanks to Giorgio’s amazing work.
“I know there is. I wasn’t—”
