Chapter 33 Elliot
ELLIOT
Sitting in the waiting room, I kept my hands on my lap, doing my best not to chew my nails off.
My stomach had been in a knot ever since I left Daniel’s place, and not even the “Good Luck” note he left me, along with a breakfast tray next to the bed, was enough to help me relax.
Scared I’d be rejected for the third time, I didn’t want to come here at all.
But when Robert called to tell me that Renieri were looking for an exclusive model, I realized this was my chance to stay close to Daniel.
And speaking of Robert, where was he? Checking my watch, I saw he was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, and yet, there I was, alone.
For the past year and a half, I’d been traveling around the world nonstop.
I was grateful for the opportunity, but it was tiring.
And the worst part? It kept me away from Daniel.
I didn’t want to be away from him, let alone have oceans between us.
Even now, being on other sides of the same city was too much, and I felt like I had a hole in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I looked around the fancy lobby.
Unlike other high-couture brands in the city, Renieri had gone for something different—a town house in a nice neighborhood instead of a downtown office.
I liked how the room felt clean and smooth, with a lot of sunlight getting in from outside.
“Mr. Dufort?”
“Oui?” I turned my head to see a tall, suited man standing at the entrance to the other room. His dark suit complemented his tawny skin, and along with his strong jaw structure and height, I wondered if he was also a model.
“We are ready to see you now,” he said with a slight accent.
My brows drew close as I slowly got up. “But my agent isn’t here yet—”
“I’m afraid Mr. Renieri is short on time and cannot wait.”
My eyes widened with shock as I jumped to my feet. “M-Mr. Renieri?”
In my last two interviews, I’d only met executives, never Vito himself.
The tall man’s expression remained unfazed as he gave a short nod. “Yes. Today, Mr. Renieri would like to meet you himself. So, if you will, please come with me.”
My panic doubled in size, and I brushed my hands over my jeans, then followed him. The distance to the office was short, but with my heart beating fast, it felt much longer. Before I knew it, the door closed behind me, and I was left alone in the office with Vito Renieri—the fashion legend.
I’d imagined someone much more intimidating in demeanor and size, probably a man matching Daniel’s appearance, when, in reality, Vito was a tiny man, about half my height, with tanned skin and bleached short hair.
Actually, he looked like a mouse. A cute mouse, but still, a mouse—he had pointy ears that stood out and a mouth that was too big for his narrow face.
Not that his looks mattered, considering he was the one doing the interview, while I crossed my fingers he’d be interested in signing me on a contract.
“Ah, bello, what are you doing standing over there? Sit, sit,” he said, waving at the chair in front of him.
“Oui, yes, of course.”
Moving my ass, I quickly sat down, trying not to look too awkward, when I noticed his unique eyes. I couldn’t remember the name for this condition, but one of his eyes was pitch-black while the other was bright blue.
“Heterochromia.”
I snapped out of my daydream to look at him.
“Pardon?”
Vito’s big mouth stretched into a wide smile as he pushed away from his desk and sank deeper into his leather chair. He then pointed at his right eye. “The condition of having two different eye colors, it’s called heterochromia. Cool, isn’t it?”
Embarrassed at being caught staring, I looked down at my lap. “I-I am sorry. I did not mean to look.”
“We can speak French.” He switched languages, his Italian accent less vivid now. “If it’s easier for you.”
Looking up, I saw he was still smiling at me, and it gave me a bit of confidence.
“T-that would be great.” I forced a smile. “I’m still not the best in English.”
“Why bother, right? It’s such an ugly language. There’s no music to it.”
He’s funny.
Vito’s smile dropped, and his expression turned serious. “Now, bello, where are you from?”
“Provence.”
“Beautiful.” With pursed lips, he nodded to himself. “One of my first collections was inspired by lavender. It was all about beautiful purples and blues.” He paused, his stare locking with mine. “Just like your eyes.”
I swallowed hard, the corner of my lips twitching. “T-thank you.”
Grabbing a pen from his desk, he once again leaned back in his chair. “Now, then, shall we cut to the chase?”
Shit. I’d hoped we’d talk more so Robert could get here already.
I glanced at the door before looking back at Vito. “Shouldn’t we wait for my agent—”
“I hate agents.” Biting on the tip of his pen, he smirked. “All they care about is money, ignoring the main thing, which is?”
“Huh?”
He snapped his fingers. “What’s the point of all of this? Why are we here, Elliot?”
“Because of… f-fashion?”
“Art, my boy. This is all about the arts.”
Feeling stupid, my cheeks heated up, and I scolded myself for answering the wrong thing.
“O-oh.”
“Do you like art, tesoro?”
The intensity with which he studied me left me stunned, and I kept my stupid mouth shut so I wouldn’t embarrass myself further. There was a reason Robert always joined me in these things because words often failed me in important situations.
Bringing my hands to my lap, I cracked my knuckles. “I don’t know much about art,” I shamefully admitted, my stomach churning with fear I was failing.
“I find that hard to believe.”
I frowned at him. “I-I really don’t.”
“So what makes you think you’re suited to work with me?”
My heart sank to my stomach, and feeling like crying, I quickly bit on my bottom lip.
There it was—my third rejection. Which was a hell of a lot worse than the first two.
Now, I’d have to go back to working all around the world, which would create a bigger distance between Daniel and me until he got tired and—
“I don’t know,” I forced myself to speak, my voice wavering.
“I wish I knew something about art so I could have impressed you, but I don’t.
” I swallowed hard. “In all honesty, there’s nothing special about me, and to answer your question…
what makes me think I suit your brand? Well, I don’t think I do, even though I really want to.
You’re classic, while I’m—” I’m the guy who sleeps with the husband behind his wife’s back. “—I’m not.”
No longer smiling, Vito let out a deep sigh as he crossed one leg over the other.
“That’s quite interesting.”
I nodded, knowing there was nothing else I could say to make me sound less of a failure.
“I will be frank with you.” He scratched his jaw.
“I saw some of your covers before, and I wasn’t at all interested.
Don’t get me wrong. You’re beautiful, perhaps as beautiful as one can be, but what’s the point of perfection in an industry that is all about reinvention?
Art is not about perfection, tesoro, but the beauty in its absence. ”
The more Vito talked, the smaller I felt, and if only I could have run back to Daniel’s arms and forgotten all about this failure—
“But then someone told me, or more likely urged me, to meet this young French model with sapphire eyes in person.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Sapphire eyes. My heart paused because there was only one man who… Could it be?
“That person turned out to be right because clearly—” Vito leaned forward. “—there’s more to you than the eye could see, and I’m intrigued to explore it through my art.”
Before his words could fully settle in, Vito got up and reached his hand forward.
“I’d like you to become my muse, Elliot Dufort.”
“Y-you would?” I frowned at him, still seated.
Vito’s lips stretched into a grin before he laughed and muttered something in Italian. “You are truly a unique soul, you know that, right?”
I clutched the chair’s arms, unsure if this was a dream or not, and slowly got up.
“You sure you want me?” I asked, looking at his offered hand.
His smile, thus far cocky, turned soft.
“With time, you’ll learn I never go back on my words.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I nodded before hurrying to take his hand.
“I-I won’t fail you.”
“You better not.” He released his grip and clapped his hands. “Now, then, let’s go eat lunch. I’m starving.”
He’d already moved to walk away when I spoke. “Shouldn’t we sign a contract or something?”
“Ah… Contracts, how boring.” He snapped his fingers, and then a moment later, the handsome man from earlier popped into the office. “Caleb, make sure our legal team contacts Mr. Dufort as soon as possible.” Vito turned to me. “Do you have a lawyer, tesoro?”
Stunned by how fast things were moving, I blurted, “M-my agent—”
“Nah-ah.” He tsked. “What did I say about agents? I hate them. Fire him.”
Fire Robert?
“Can I do that?”
Vito’s brows rose before he moved closer to me. And despite him reaching my chest, he patted my cheek like I was a little kid. “You’re a Renieri now, bello; you can do whatever you want.”
Could I? Could I really?
Not wanting to ruin this moment of joy with my worries, I said, “There’s a new restaurant that serves oysters not far from here. They say it’s good, almost like in Paris.”
Vito’s lips curved into a wide smile before he patted my back. “You and I are going to get along just fine.”