Chapter Three: An Unlikely Invitation
805 Words
It had been a week since Matteo last visited the flower shop, but Amara’s words still lingered in his mind. He buried himself in work, determined to ignore the strange pull that drew him back to her. Matteo De Luca wasn’t a man who got distracted. He thrived on control, discipline, and purpose.
Yet here he was, sitting in his office, staring blankly at a report. His assistant’s voice crackled through the intercom.
“Sir Matteo, your schedule for tomorrow includes the charity gala at Villa Fiorenza.”
Matteo groaned softly. The annual gala was a networking event disguised as a noble cause, filled with champagne, shallow conversations, and people vying for his attention.
“Cancel my attendance,” Matteo said curtly.
“Sir,” his assistant hesitated, “the event is sponsored by the De Luca Foundation. Your mother will expect you to be there.”
Matteo sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Prepare everything.”
---
The next evening, the grand Villa Fiorenza was alive with music and laughter. Guests dressed in expensive suits and glittering gowns mingled under crystal chandeliers, sipping wine and exchanging pleasantries. Matteo arrived fashionably late, as always, his dark suit impeccably tailored.
He moved through the crowd with ease, nodding politely at acquaintances, but his mind felt disconnected. That was until he noticed a familiar face by the garden doors.
Amara.
She stood near a table of flower arrangements, her simple yet elegant dress contrasting beautifully with the extravagance around her. Matteo blinked, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him. What was she doing here?
---
Amara had no intention of attending such a high-profile event. But when a client canceled their order of floral centerpieces for the gala, she was left with the responsibility of delivering them herself. She had tried to sneak out unnoticed after setting up, but a persistent waiter convinced her to stay for a drink.
Now, she was awkwardly nursing a glass of wine, feeling entirely out of place among the polished crowd.
“Amara?”
The deep voice made her turn, and her eyes widened slightly. Matteo stood there, looking as commanding as ever.
“Matteo,” she said, startled but smiling. “What are you doing here?”
“This is a De Luca Foundation event,” he said, his tone amused. “The real question is, what are you doing here?”
“Oh,” Amara chuckled nervously. “I delivered the flowers. They’re not mine anymore, so technically, I shouldn’t be here.”
Matteo raised an eyebrow. “You delivered these?” He glanced at the table, noticing the flawless arrangements.
Amara nodded. “Yup. It’s my job, remember?”
“You’re staying, then,” Matteo said firmly, signaling to a waiter. “You can’t just leave after creating something this impressive.”
“Uh, I really shouldn’t—”
“I insist,” Matteo interrupted, offering his hand. “Join me.”
Amara hesitated, but something in Matteo’s gaze made her relent. “Okay. But only for a little while.”
---
The two found a quiet corner in the garden, away from the noise of the gala. Matteo handed Amara a glass of champagne, and they sat on a stone bench surrounded by blooming roses.
“Do you attend these things often?” Amara asked, glancing at the glamorous crowd inside.
“Unfortunately,” Matteo replied with a wry smile. “It’s part of the job. Networking, smiling, pretending to care.”
“Sounds exhausting,” Amara said, taking a sip of her drink.
“It is,” Matteo admitted. “But tonight… feels different.”
Amara raised an eyebrow. “Because you dragged a flower shop owner into your world?”
Matteo chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe because you remind me of something I don’t often see in these events.”
“What’s that?”
“Authenticity.”
Amara stared at him, unsure how to respond. For a moment, they sat in silence, the soft glow of the garden lights illuminating their faces.
“You’re full of surprises, Matteo,” she said finally. “I didn’t expect a CEO to care about authenticity.”
“Maybe I’m more than what people expect,” he said, his tone serious.
Amara smiled, but before she could respond, a group of guests approached, calling Matteo’s name.
“Duty calls,” Matteo said, standing up reluctantly. “Will you wait for me?”
Amara blinked. “Wait for you? I’m not exactly part of this crowd, Matteo.”
“Just stay,” Matteo said, his voice softer now. “Please.”
Amara hesitated but nodded. “Okay. For a little while.”
Matteo smiled before turning to the guests, but as he walked away, he glanced back at her, wondering why the thought of her leaving unsettled him so much.
- Writer
