Page 60 of A Royal Disaster
Of course, his parents would have something to say about it, but it didn’t matter. He’d figure it out later. Right now, his first priority was closing the trade deal.
“Ah, I see the Minister of Economy has arrived,” Pereira said, gesturing to the entry where an older gentleman stood, surveying the room with a shrewd eye.
Rodrigo Silva was known to be a tough negotiator, and Liam hoped he’d live up to his reputation tonight, because it would make the victory that much sweeter when the deal was done.
Silva turned his way, and a sly smile split his lips as their eyes met.
Game. On.
Chapter Eighteen
Lena smiled and nodded as the Caridoso Minister of Economy, Rodrigo Silva, introduced himself. She didn’t have the first clue what a Minister of Economy did, but it sounded important, and she made a mental note to keep her wineglass as far from him as possible. It was bad enough all the damn furniture was white.
Didn’t these people know they were just begging for a stain?
Clearly they didn’t read the tabloids. If they did, they’d have draped everything in plastic prior to her arrival. Oddly, the realization provided little comfort.
Lena had managed to make small talk with the ambassador and his wife without incident. She could only hope she’d be as lucky when it came to the minister, because it was clear this man was the one Liam had come to see. Lena cursed herself for not asking more questions about tonight’s dinner. She’d been too deep in the throes of post-coital bliss when he’d asked and then she’d been too terrified on the helicopter to think of anything except making it to DC in one piece.
Survival for the win.
It hadn’t helped that Liam had been quiet, too. She’d been shocked to learn his crown could be in jeopardy, but then they’d arrived at the helipad and all thoughts of royal dissent had been erased from her brain. Well, she couldn’t change Valerian politics, but she could stand by her man tonight and do her best not to screw up this deal with her disastrous luck.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Liam said, meeting Silva’s hard gaze. “I’ve always preferred doing business in person, and Valeria remains interested in forging trade relations with Caridoso. It’s my sincere hope that we can reach an agreement before I return to Valeria at the end of the month.”
“I believe a trade alliance could be very advantageous for both our countries,” Silva said.
It didn’t escape Lena’s notice that the reply was noncommittal at best. And it didn’t bode well for Liam closing the deal before they returned to the city.
“Have you had a chance to review my suggested revisions to the agreement?” Liam took a leisurely sip of his wine, but Silva remained silent. The tension between the men was so thick you could cut it with a potter’s knife, and Lena was convinced it was the reason everyone else in the room seemed to be inching away. “I’d love to hear your thoughts.”
“I have many thoughts.” Silva’s tone suggested few of them were favorable, and Lena started to suspect her evening of pleasure might be on the line. “We can talk business after dinner. I never discuss terms on an empty stomach.”
“Fair enough,” Liam said, nodding in agreement, though she could sense his growing frustration.
Lena caught his eye and gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Besides,” Silva continued. “I wouldn’t want to bore the lovely lady. I doubt very much she cares about our economic policies.”
“Only because economic policy isn’t my area of expertise,” she said, offering him a warm smile.
“And what do you do?” Silva asked, smoothly steering the conversation away from business.
“I’m an artist,” Lena told him, standing a little straighter. She might not be royalty and she might not be a finance guru, but she was a damn fine artist and an even better teacher. “I own an art studio in New York and I teach multimedia classes for all ages.”
“Well, I must admit that sounds far more interesting than writing economic policy, but I’ll bet it’s just as messy,” he said, laughing at his own joke.
They chatted about her work for a while and Silva seemed to be genuinely interested, which surprised her. For a man who worked in the financial sector, he had quite a passion for the arts, which suited her just fine, since it gave them something to talk about. It also seemed to suit Liam, who appeared to have no immediate use for the man if he wasn’t interested in talking business.
Liam nodded and agreed when required, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.
Not that she could blame him, because…pressure.
When they were finally called to dinner, Silva guided her to the dining room across the hall, Liam trailing behind them. It seemed a breach of etiquette on the part of the host, but Liam didn’t seem concerned, and she forgot all about etiquette when they entered the massive dining room.
“Is that a Miguel Marques painting?” she asked, stopping before the marble fireplace where a red, white, and black abstract painting hung on the wall. She turned to the ambassador and his wife for confirmation.
“Yes, it is,” Pereira said, joining her before the fireplace. “This one is calledDuetand that one over there,” he said, gesturing to a large canvas painted in shades of gray on the far side of the room, “isUntitled.”
