13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Vincenzo
A s I enter the café the next morning, I scan the room for Emilia. I quickly spot her sitting at a table near the window, sipping on a cup of coffee. As I approach, she looks up and our eyes meet. There is an uncertainty in her gaze.
"Mr. Rossi, thank you for meeting me," she greets me as I take the seat across from her.
"Please, call me Enzo," I reply with a charming smile. "What did you want to discuss?"
Emilia hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday at the funeral. About purchasing the gallery."
I lean back in my seat, studying her carefully. "And have you made a decision?"
She takes a deep breath before answering. "I... I think I am considering it. But I need to talk to you about something.” I lean back in my seat and study her expression, a look of determination clear on her face.
“I think I need a coffee before we begin, Miss Walters.” She gives me an annoyed glance. “Just call me Emmy please.” I nod, as I call over a waitress and give her my order.
As the waitress leaves to get my order, a tense silence settles between us. Emmy fidgets with her coffee cup, avoiding my gaze.
“Look, Mr Rossi…. Enzo. I really need to know how you really knew my father. Ever since I found out who you are, curiosity has been eating at me.” The waitress drops off my order and quickly moves away busying herself with other patrons.
“I thought I had already explained that to you, Emmy. My family and I have purchased a lot of art from your father and his gallery. I have always admired fine art, and your father always had an amazing collection when he ran the gallery.” Her eyes flicked down to the intricate tattoos on my hands and my lips quirk up into a smile.
She lets out a sound of frustration and leans back in her chair.
“Not the answer you wanted, Emmy?” She glares at me, her hazel eyes boring into mine.
“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to believe that you are here simply out of admiration for art,” Emmy replies, her tone sceptical.
I lean forward slightly, meeting her gaze directly. “I understand your hesitation, but I assure you that my intentions are genuine. I truly believe in the potential of your gallery and the legacy your father built.” She chuckles at me, and I raise an eyebrow at her.
“You’re so full of shit, Enzo.” I smile darkly at her and take a sip of my coffee.
“If I’m so full of shit as you say, then why did I agree to meet you?
Why would I offer to buy your father’s gallery?
Why would I waste my time? I’m sure by now you know I'm a busy man, and I have better things to do than play games with you, Miss Walters.” I place my coffee cup down and study her features, she really is a gorgeous woman.
“You know what, I thought you would be honest with me. I thought we could have an honest conversation about my father, but now I see that was a waste of time,” she says as she hurriedly grabs her belongings and abruptly stands, knocking over her chair in the process.
She turns to look over her shoulder at me.
“Over my dead body, will I ever sell to you.” With those words hanging in the air she walks toward the café exit. My heart flutters in my chest at her challenge. It will be so much fun to break this woman. I just need to figure out how; ultimately, I know I’ll get what I want.
As I watch Emmy storm out of the café, a smirk creeping onto my face. She’s feisty, I'll give her that. But she has no idea who she is dealing with. I finish my coffee leisurely, savouring the taste as I contemplate my next move.
Emmy is a puzzle, and I love a good challenge. She clearly has unresolved questions about her father's death, and I need to ensure she doesn't dig too deep. The last thing I need is unwanted attention on Rossi Enterprises.
I rise from my seat making my way to the front counter.
I pay for my coffee as I contemplate my conversation with Emilia, tossing a few more bills into the tip jar for the waitress before striding out of the café.
The cool morning air greets me as I step outside and scan the bustling street for any sign of Emmy. She’s nowhere in sight.
I decided to bide my time and let her simmer down before making my next move. Emmy may have rejected my offer now, but I know how to play the long game. She will come around eventually, even if I need to switch on the charm.
I walk down the bustling street, my mind already formulating a plan to win over Emmy. She intrigues me in a way that no one has in a long time. Her fiery spirit and determination only add to her allure.
As I turn the corner, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see my father’s name flashing on the screen.
I quickly answer the call, bringing the phone to my ear. "Father, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I greet him, keeping my tone respectful.
"Enzo, we have a situation that requires your immediate attention," my father's voice comes through the line in his serious and commanding tone. I straighten up, preparing myself for whatever news he is about to deliver.
"What is it, Father? How can I assist?" I ask, already anticipating the worst.
“Kayla’s father has been blowing up my phone all morning. It would seem his precious daughter has begun complaining to daddy dearest. What’s the problem, son? Can’t get it up?” I grind my teeth together, I should have known this would be what he was calling about.
“I will sort it out with Kayla, is that all, Father?”
I hear my father let out a frustrated sound.“You had better, because if Kayla’s father begins pulling out of business deals, I will blame you.” I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.
“Understood.” I tap the end call button and stuff my phone back into my pocket. Kayla will be the death of me, if I don’t deal with her crazy ass and soon.
I make my way back to my office, my mind already swirling with plans to address the Kayla situation. She is a headache I don't need right now, especially with Emmy still on my mind.
As I enter the building, my assistant greets me with a stack of papers that require my immediate attention. I grab the stack and wave her off, heading straight for my office without a second glance.
Sitting at my desk, I sift through the documents, signing where necessary but unable to shake off the encounter with Emmy earlier in the day. Her determination and defiance intrigues me more than I care to admit.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and without waiting for a response, Kayla barges into the room. Her icy blonde hair trailing down her back, her stormy blue eyes flaring with anger, and I brace myself for the impending confrontation.
"Enzo, we need to talk," she states, her voice a mix of annoyance and determination.
I lean back in my chair, studying her carefully. "What is it now, Kayla?" I ask, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
She marches over to my desk, slamming her hand down on the polished wood surface. "You've been avoiding me, Enzo. What's going on between us?" she demands, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Dealing with Kayla is like navigating a minefield - one wrong move and everything could blow up in my face.
“Kayla, I haven't been avoiding you,” I respond, still attempting to keep the irritation out of my voice. “I have just been busy,” I indicate all the paperwork spread out across my desk. Kayla’s eyes widen in understanding as she takes in the mess on my desk.
“Aw, baby. Do you need my help?” She purrs in an attempt to be sultry. I keep my expression neutral, so she doesn't see how much she repulses me.
"I appreciate the offer, Kayla, but I've got everything under control," I reply coolly, avoiding her attempts at seduction. She pouts, clearly not used to being rejected, and takes a step closer to me.
"Come on, Enzo, don't act so cold towards me," she coos, reaching out to try and touch my arm. I swiftly move out of her reach, standing up from my chair to put some distance between us.
“How about this? Let Martin know when you are free this week, and I will organise something special for us.” Her eyes widen with excitement.
“Really?” her voice hits a new octave, and I struggle to keep my composure.
“Yes, really.”
She leans in and puckers her lips; I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My attempt at giving her a quick peck fails, as she pulls me in for what I am assuming to Kayla is a passionate kiss.
It’s at this moment I know I am in deep shit. There is no way I can marry this duck lipped crazy woman.
I gently push Kayla away, feigning a smile to mask my inner turmoil. She beams at me, clearly pleased with herself, while I fight the urge to wipe my mouth clean of her overpowering lipstick.
"Thank you for understanding, Kayla. I will let Martin know about our plans," I inform her, trying to keep my tone neutral. She practically skips out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sink back into my chair, rubbing a hand over my face in frustration. Kayla is becoming more and more unbearable by the day, and I need to find a way out of this mess without causing a scandal.
My mind drifts back to Emmy, her words echoing in my head. Despite our rocky start, there is something about her that draws me in. Her fiery spirit and unwavering determination intrigue me in a way that Kayla never could.
It's at that moment, I realise that I need to win over Emmy. I can’t stray from my plans. It's time to change tactics; my usual strategies and business aren't going to work for me here. I need to turn on the charm and I think I have just the way to do that.