He was so calculated and in control all the time that seeing him relax around friends was like getting a peek behind the curtain at the real him.
It was nice.
Better than nice.
If he acted this way all the time…
I took another gulp of wine before I finished my thought.
Don’t go there.
“If there’s one thing you should know about him, Stella,” Dante said after he finished. “It’s that he has an overinflated sense of self-importance. We could’ve handled the jewels situation without his help.”
“Trust me, I know.” A laugh rose in my throat when Christian slid a half-amused, half-exasperated glance in my direction.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Easy.” I grinned. “Dante’s.”
The table broke into laughter while he squeezed my thigh and leaned closer until his mouth grazed my ear.
My pulse skipped.
“Not very girlfriend-like of you,” he murmured.
“If you can’t handle a little teasing, you’re not ready for a girlfriend,” I whispered back.
His laughter wound through me like a ribbon of dark velvet.
I relaxed into my seat with a lingering smile.
The teasing, the joking, the opening up about his past (even if it was work-related)…we almost felt like a real couple.
After dinner, Vivian took me on a tour of the penthouse while Dante and Christian discussed business.
Christian’s house was all clean lines and modern minimalism, but the Russos’ was a tasteful ode to decadence. Rich velvets, lush silks, and beautifully cut porcelain, all arranged in a manner that was extravagant but never tacky. The only thing that looked out of place was the hideous painting in their art gallery.
I had great respect for all creative works, but honestly, that piece looked like a cat had vomited all over the canvas.
“I don’t know why Dante bought that.” Vivian sounded embarrassed. “He usually has more discerning taste.”
The compliment came out grudgingly, like she was reluctant to ascribe any positive qualities to her fiancé.
I suppressed the urge to ask what happened between them.
It was rude to pry into other people’s business, especially when they were my hosts and I’d just met them.
We almost made it back to the dining room when we heard voices drifting from a crack in Dante’s office door.
“…can’t keep Magda forever,” Dante said. “You should be glad I didn’t throw it in the trash after the stunt you pulled with Vivian and Heath.”
Vivian froze while my brow knit with confusion.
Who are Magda and Heath?
What stunt?
“It’s a fucking painting, not a wild animal.” Christian sounded bored. “As for Vivian, it’s been months, and it worked out fine. Let it go. If you’re still pissed, you shouldn’t have invited me to dinner.”
“Be glad things worked out fine with Vivian,” Dante said coldly. “If—”
He stopped when Vivian coughed, her face inexplicably red.
A second later, the door flung open, revealing a surprised Dante and an impassive Christian.
“I see you’ve finished the tour early.” Dante’s dry tone cut through the ensuing silence. A faint blush colored his cheekbones as he flicked his gaze at a silent Vivian.
“Sorry.” My own cheeks warmed at being caught eavesdropping. “We were on our way to the dining room and heard…” I trailed off, not wanting to confirm we’d been listening in on his conversation even though that was clearly what we’d been doing.
“We were just wrapping up,” Christian said smoothly. There was no hint of the ire I’d heard earlier. “Dante, Vivian, it’s been lovely.”
I said my goodbyes as well, and we rode the elevator down to the lobby in silence. But when we reached the sidewalk, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What’s Magda?”
Now that we’d left the Russos, I didn’t bother pretending I hadn’t heard them.
Christian had said it was a painting, but I didn’t understand why Dante was holding it for him. Christian didn’t even like art.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” His curt reply was chillier than the crisp evening air swirling around us.
The warm, easygoing Christian from dinner was gone, replaced by his aloof twin once more.
I tried again. “What stunt did you pull with Vivian and Heath?” Also, who the hell is Heath?
Normally, I wasn’t this nosy, but tonight was my best shot at getting Christian to open up. He’d revealed a sliver of what he was like behind his perfect mask earlier; I just needed to dig deeper.
“Also nothing you need to worry about.”