Page 48 of Ice To Meet You

She ran her eyes over my open shirt, and one of her eyebrows lifted. “And it’s wonderful to see you too, only I’m used to seeing you downstairs and a little more … dressed.” She looked back at Esmé with a smirk on her red lips.

Esmé, for her part, looked like she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole. Finally, she spoke. “Matteo’s been working in the gallery this afternoon. He was just dropping in …”

Marianne nodded at the pile of clothes in my arms. “To pick up some laundry?” Her cheeky grin made my skin prickle.

“I didn’t realise this was a costume party?” A deep baritone voice echoed in the hallway, and I squinted into the gloom.Aman with silver hair and a moustache arrived at the top of the stairs, carrying a bottle of wine.

“Allow me to introduce my husband, Alessandro.” Marianne said

Esmé stepped forward, her smile becoming the one I’d grown used to at the gallery. Her public face, as I liked to think of it. Cool, professional, untouchable. “Monsieur Rossi, Marianne has told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure. I’m Esmé Laurent.”

Marianne’s eyes glowed as Esmé and Alessandro shook hands. Alessandro’s eyes drifted to me. “And this is?”

“Matteo,” said Esmé. “He’s been working with me on the new Luc du Comtois exhibition.Are you familiar with Luc’s work? Come inside and I can show you some preview pictures.”

Esmé took Alessandro’s arm and guided him into the apartment.

“Will Matteo be joining us?” Marianne asked.

“No.” Esmé said, her voice firm and clear. “Matteo was just heading home. He’s had a long day in the gallery.”

At her dismissal, my heart sank. I couldn’t blame her, though. She hadn’t planned on me being here, and my presence would only be a distraction.

Marianne shook her head. “Nonsense. Why don’t you stay? I’m sure Esmé can make room.”

“I don’t want to … impose,” I said.

“I’m sure you’re not. I, for one, would love to hear more of your fascinating insights into art.”

I grinned. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget? Esmé, please tell Matteo he’s welcome to stay.”

Esmé stood still, like a deer in headlights, and I longed to reach out and take her hand. I knew her well enough by now to know she hated being out of control. Being unable to decide for herself. Esmé blinked, looking at Marianne.

“Um…”

“I’ll only stay a little while,” I said. “I have things to do.” I willed Esmé to look at me. When she finally did, I gave her what I hoped was an apologetic smile. “And it’s a bit cold outside for this shirt.”

She ran her eyes to my chest, and the tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips. “Okay. Please, come in, everyone.”

I stepped aside and ushered Marianne through the front door, placing my running clothes on the hallway table. Esmé closed it behind me and caught my gaze with a look of pure pain on her face. “You could have said no,” she hissed under her breath.

I shrugged, keeping my voice low. “But who would keep Marianne entertained while you charm her husband? I’ll keep her distracted while you do your thing.”

She opened her mouth, as if she’d say more, but Marianne’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Esmé, do you need help with the pasta?”

Esmé spoke with a tight smile, her voice dangerously sweet. “It’s okay. I’m sure Matteo will be more than happy to assist.”

Esmé leaned in. “Please, just stay out of trouble,” she whispered, before turning to the kitchen.

Trouble? I could keep things above board for Marianne Rossi. The real test would be doing the same for my boss.

17

ESMÉ

Iglanced around the dinner table, and a warm glow settled over me. Aperitifs drunk: check.

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