Page 25 of Ice To Meet You

“She’s actually spending more time in the gallery now.”

Iris ran her eyes over my face as if she was reading a palm. “I wonder why?”

My gut fizzled. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps she’s decided that indoor heating and a comfortable desk are better than a blustery park bench?”

Iris tightened her eyes a touch. “Maybe,” she said, brushing one angelic blonde curl away from her face. “She obviously recognises the good life when she sees it.” Her smile returned. “And she isn’t the only one. You look well. Even stuck in this place for hours on end, you have a real glow in your cheeks, and I rarely see you in makeup outside of parties.”

Warmth crept over my cheeks. Busted. I may have added a little lip gloss and mascara to my face.

“And,” she said, turning her head back towards the gallery floor, “Who on earth isthat?”

Without even seeing her eyes, I knew she was talking about Matteo. The tiny hairs on my arms stood up on end.

“Don’t tell me he’s a customer. He looks younger than your arty friends. Unless he’s a rich philanthropist. I’m sure you know the type. Too much money and time on their hands—looking for a good cause to get involved in.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try me,” she said, crossing her legs as if settling in for the rest of the afternoon.

“He’s the grandson of who I hope will be my newest investor. Do you remember I talked about the gallery I want to open in Rome? Matteo is my bargaining chip.”

“What do you mean?”

I planted my elbow on the desk and rested my chin on my palm. “If I turn Matteo into a walking, talking art machine, his grandfather will give me all the money I need. Matteo’s kind of like an intern. An assistant.”

Iris glanced over at the group, and the corners of her lips ticked up. “Matteo, eh? I don’t know about a walking, talking art machine, but you’re going to have to pry Lola off him shortly.”

I gave a wry laugh. “You’ve noticed, too? They’ve been working closely together. I think Lola’s enjoyed being in charge.”

“And the rest.”

My gut tugged. “What do you mean?”

Iris shook her head, returning her eyes to me. “Oh, come on. He’s very easy on the eye. Of course she’d like to spend a lot of time with him. I know I wouldn’t mind.”

“Shh,” I said, bringing a finger to my lips. “Luc will hear you.”

Iris glanced at her husband and grinned. “Luc would understand. He knows how much I love him. Besides, it’s healthy to window shop. You never know when you might spot something that could be good for a friend.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Did she mean me?

“Okay, I’m just going to ask … how do you get any work done?”

I looked over at Matteo. Truthfully, I hadn’t been getting much of anything done since he’d been here. Instead, I spent hours at my desk not really looking at articles and art titbits online. I’d taken up Candy Crush in my downtime and toyed with the idea of learning to knit. Anything to get my mind off my new employee.

As if hearing my thoughts, he turned his head, seeking me out. The second our eyes met, he smiled and gave a little wink. I closed my hand around my computer mouse and swallowed hard.

Iris chuckled. “I’ve seen that look before. Are you sure he’s just here to ‘hang your paintings?’” She said the last few words in a low, seductive voice whilst wiggling her eyebrows at me.

My face heated.

Iris’ eyes widened. “You’re blushing, Esmé. Don’t tell me I’ve struck a nerve.”

“Who’s nervous?” Luc’s deep voice rolled over me. He appeared out of nowhere and I had to wonder how much of our chatter he’d heard.

“Just Esmé,” Iris said, taking her husband’s hand and kissing his knuckles. His lips curled as he looked at her, his eyes glowing.

I smiled, too. I loved seeing them so happy together. Their unlikely romance was the stuff of fairytales.

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