Page 6 of Broken Pieces
The gallery doors swing open, and I step out into the bustling cityscape. The Romano Gallery is located in the heartof downtown, surrounded by towering buildings that cast shadows on the busy streets. The air is thick with the scent of street food mixed with exhaust fumes, a chaotic combination of urban life.
Seeing him in person for the first time was like time stood still. I'd seen his photos in countless magazines as one of the city's top bachelors, but this was different. His presence was commanding, and the room seemed to revolve around him. The man was stupidly handsome, no doubt about that. Despite his good looks, he possesses a multitude of traits, though not in a favorable manner. I have no intention of working for someone like that. He can’t just flash that seductive smile and expect me to bend over and do his bidding.
Fat fucking chance.
As I'm leaving the gallery, his assistant stops me. “Are you alright?” she asks, her tone laced with a hint of concern
“Your boss is just so…” I falter for a moment, trying to find the right words.
“Cocky?” she replies. “Yeah, I know.”
We share a laugh for a moment, and I decide that this girl is a saint, dealing with a guy like that.
She shrugs. “I've grown to like him. He's often misunderstood, but to be fair, the dude always has something stuck up his ass with how serious he is all the time.”
Another laugh escapes me. I don’t know about being misunderstood. I think some people are just plain assholes, him being one of them.
She extends her hand, introducing herself. “I'm Isabella, by the way.”
I shake her hand and reply, “I'm Aria.”
“Yeah, I know. You're big in the industry. I think everyone knows who you are.”
I shake my head. “Nah, I'm just a girl with a passion for art.”
“We need that here,” she replies quietly with an expectant smile.
“Well, I can't work for an arrogant dick, so unfortunately, I won't be working here.”
As I turn to leave, a deep velvety voice from behind me interrupts, “Arrogant dick, huh? You've said that twice already.”
I turn around, and there's Damian Romano, hands in his pockets, looking way too handsome for his own good.
“If the shoe fits,” I reply sarcastically, forcing a fake smile.
He ignores my comment like I’m just a fly on the wall and turns to Isabella, and boy does that rub me the wrong way. “Don't think I didn't hear you agree with her.”
Isabella rolls her eyes, waving her hand dismissively and tells him about his upcoming meeting before walking back inside the gallery.
Damian approaches me, andas he gets closer, I’m hit with that stupid good-smelling cedarwood clean scent. It dizzies me for a moment, my knees buckling involuntary. I take a step back to regain my composure and maintain a significant distance between us.
With a knowing smirk, he speaks, “Listen... Let's try again, okay? Over dinner.”
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
Tilting my chin up slightly, I shake my head firmly. “Your assistant just confirmed you're a pain in the ass to work for. Hard pass.”
I turn to walk away, but his strong hand gently grips my upper arm. The touch is electrifying, burning me in the best way possible.
“I can confirm I'm a pain in the ass, but it's never for bad reasons,” he says, his tone sincere. “I won't take no for an answer.”
I stand my ground, freeing my arm from his hold, and continue to walk on the busy city sidewalk. “Well, you can keep trying, but it's still going to be a no.”
Once I’m a few blocks away from the gallery, I grab my phone from my purse and FaceTime Sophia.
When she answers, she has that post-sex look with glassy eyes and messy hair.
“Oh my fucking God, Sophia. Were you just fucking!?” I half-shout in a whisper.
