Page 22 of Broken Deal

“We couldn’t have gone to your restaurant instead?”

I shake my head. “I’m always there, and I was craving some sushi.”

“Yeah, right.” She snorts a laugh. “Lorenzo, what are you playing at? I thought this was a business meeting.”

Funny. I thought it was, too, until we shared that moment outside of her apartment.

“Thisisa business meeting,” I confirm before taking a bite of nigiri. “So”—I wave my hand at her—“go ahead.”

She drops her chopsticks on top of her napkin and leans back, crossing her legs. “I want to write about Lorenzo Mancini the person, not the billionaire. I honestly couldn’t care less about how you made your billions.”

Straight to the point. I like it. Sophia has this no-bullshit personality that I find, honestly, hot.

“But?” I prompt.

She frowns. “How do you know there’s a but?”

“You forget I’m a businessman. I know how to read people.”

Though reading Sophia hasn’t been an easy task. She conceals herself well, for the most part. But the tense dynamic between her and her boss was fairly obvious, so I’m certain whatever he advised, she wants to do the exact opposite.

She gives an exasperated roll of her eyes at my comment. “Max wasn’t too convinced, he wants me to write multiple articles that are drastically different.”

“Let me guess, one of them is a gossip column?” I raise an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look.

She thins her lips and nods.

“Makes sense.Vogue Eliteis a magazine, after all,” I continue with a nonchalant shrug. “What matters is whatyouwant to do.”

The media thrives on gossip, chaos, and other people’s misery. It’s sickening. And I don’t care for it. The thought of me doing this honestly makes my skin crawl, but then I look at Sophia and feel somewhat at ease. For some strange reason, I trust her. Maybe it’s the fact I’ve read all of herwork, or that I can tell she has integrity. I honestly don’t understand why she works for a place likeVogue Elite. She’s meant for so much more.

“It doesn’t matter what I want to do,” she replies with a flat tone.

I raise an eyebrow, setting my chopsticks aside and dropping my elbows on the table. “Why not?”

She drops her elbows on the table, too, resting her face on the palm of her hand. “Because it doesn’t.”

“I think it does matter, and I will do whateveryouthink is best.” I lean back on my chair. “With that being said, I’m a simple man. What you see is what you get.”

Her eyes gleam with something I can’t quite place. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”

Shocker. Who didn’t see that coming?

I rest my hand on the table and start drumming my index finger against it. “You’re not going to find what you’re looking for.”

She reaches for her glass of wine and takes a sip. My eyes follow the movement and focus on her soft, plush perfect lips. The same lips I’m still craving. And fuck, they’re so pretty, all I want to do is get lost in them.

Get your head out of the gutter, man.

She shrugs lazily. “That’s for me to find out.”

What are you doing? This is risky. Stupid. You should walk away right now.

I couldn’t even if I tried. Is this the best idea I’ve had? Probably not. I’ve kept my life private for a lot of reasons. Reasons I refuse to give a second thought. I don’t think the world is interested in seeing the real me, and I’m not entirely too excited to share it either. This is a dangerous game, one a normal person would shy away from. But Ithink we’ve already established there’s something stupidly wrong with me.

“Okay,” I find myself saying.

Her eyes lock on mine in surprise, and then she nods. “Good.”

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