Antonio’s command surprised her. “What?”
“If we’re going to make a decision on how best to handle this, I need more information.”
“Since when do you ask for more information? I remember you diving headfirst into everything.”
His jaw tightened as his eyes glittered. She suppressed a shiver. Something had happened to Antonio, something dark, to make him look so forbidding.
“I know you lost your job. Start there.”
The bald statement made her flinch. If he noticed, he didn’t care.Fine, she thought with not a small degree of anger. The harsher he was, the easier it was to push away her physical attraction to him.
“After I graduated, I landed a job with a clothing retail chain based out of Granada. They were bought up earlier this year by some American company and downsized our office.” She frowned. “It wasn’t my dream job. I suspected they used factories that weren’t employing the best labor practices.”
“A common theme in fashion.”
“It shouldn’t be,” she shot back. “If I ever get a chance to sell my designs, I’ll make sure the manufacturers are sustainable and ethical.”
He tilted his head to the side. “A noble goal. Then Paris?”
“Yes. Kess challenged me to take a year off, put together a few portfolios and see what I could accomplish. I moved to Paris in the spring, before Adrian and Everleigh’s engagement party. A short-term rental on a flat.” A flat with curling wallpaper, a leaky faucet that only seemed to drip once she was in bed, and a wrought-iron balcony that sagged away from the brick exterior. But it was cheap. No point in running through her inheritance and her savings just in case she needed it later. Plus, the top floor boasted the most incredible floor-to-ceiling windows that lit up the room she’d claimed as her studio. She swam in swathes of fabric and scribbled designs, sipping on coffee in the morning and red wine at night.
It was the first time she had truly been happy in years.
“You said almost no requests on your work since the article?”
She shrugged. “Some. None that went anywhere. The companies I submitted to on my own...” Her face flamed as she remembered the video chat with a sour-faced woman whose lips had pinched together as she’d rapidly clicked through Anna’s submission on her laptop and referred to Anna as the “virgin designer.” “They’re not taking me seriously after the way Leo made me sound. It’s going to take work to get past that.”
As much as she wanted to blame Leo for all her misfortunes, the hard truth was, all of her work up until the gold gown had been inspired by other people’s ideas. Even in college, she’d recreated the gowns of her favorite princesses and heroines. Not once had she made something original.
It was going to take work. But it was time to take the risk and get out of her own damn way.
Amazing how at the beginning of the year moving to Paris had seemed like a mountain in itself with what she was facing now.
“What about the show?”
“I might get some inquiries about the gold gown. But I need to create a stronger portfolio, and soon,” she added with a wrinkle of her nose. “Strike soon while this show is still fresh in people’s minds.”
Antonio stepped forward, his shoes drawing closer to her flip-flops. He placed a finger under her chin. Her breath caught as he slowly raised her face. She wanted to pull away, but that would show her hand, how much his touch affected her physically.
Or did he already know what effect he caused? The desire to slip her hand into his like she used to when they were kids, to feel his palm against hers? But now, as an adult, to imagine his hands sliding down her body, settling on her waist with the same possessive touch he’d shown when he’d pulled her down the Steps and into the Via Margutta?
“Why did I have to pry all of that out of you?” His voice came out low and warm. “You once used to confide in me.”
“As did you to me. Guess that makes us even.”
The words had tumbled out before she could stop them. She blinked in surprise at her own audacity. When was the last time she had challenged Antonio? Never, if memory served. She had talked his ear off as a child, as if all the words she’d kept to herself in her uncle’s house bubbled up at once and flowed forth. But as the years had passed and Antonio had grown from gangly youth into a strapping young man with dark hair that tumbled down to his rock-hewn jaw, she’d talked less. She hadn’t wanted to tax him, to risk driving him away, when he had so many other things to occupy his time, more interesting people to see. Like his other friend William and all the girls at school who had fawned over him.
Now she just didn’t care. In fact, driving him away was sounding better and better. If it wasn’t his know-it-all attitude driving her nuts, it was how damned handsome he looked in that polo.
He ran away last time. Just say the L-word again and watch how fast he runs.
She stepped back and, thankfully, his hand fell to his side.
“I didn’t mean to drag you into this. It’s my problem to deal with.”
He arched a brow and held up the phone, the sight of the picture making her wince. “You didn’t really drag me in. You fell on me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.”