Appearances
1404 Words
Chapter Nine
The conference room on the twenty-third floor looked nothing like Amaya had expected.
Instead of rows of chairs and projectors, it resembled a comfortable sitting room.
A long table occupied the center, while large screens displayed news articles, magazine covers and interview clips featuring Ezekiel.
Amaya stared at one headline.
MORETTI HOLDINGS CEO REMAINS BOSTON'S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR.
She glanced sideways at Ezekiel.
"I suppose they'll have to change that now."
Without looking away from the file in his hands, he replied.
"They will."
That was all.
Amaya smiled to herself.
She really needed to stop expecting longer conversations.
A woman in her forties entered the room carrying a tablet.
"Good morning. I'm Diana."
She smiled professionally before shaking Amaya's hand.
"I'll be preparing both of you for public appearances."
Amaya blinked.
"Preparing us?"
Diana nodded.
"Your marriage will attract attention."
"Reporters won't just ask questions—they'll study your expressions, your body language, even the length of your pauses."
Amaya suddenly wished she'd had a larger breakfast.
For the next hour, Diana asked questions.
Simple questions.
Questions that somehow became impossible to answer.
"Where did you first meet?"
Amaya froze.
Ezekiel answered smoothly.
"At a charity gala."
Diana nodded.
"Good. Again."
She looked back at Amaya.
"And what did you think when you first saw him?"
Amaya looked at Ezekiel.
He looked back.
She cleared her throat.
"I... thought he looked..."
Her mind went completely blank.
"...Tall?"
Diana lowered her tablet.
"Mrs. Moretti."
"I'm trying."
"I know."
"It's the truth."
Silence.
Another question.
"Who said 'I love you' first?"
Amaya almost choked on air.
Ezekiel calmly answered,
"We're private people."
Diana smiled.
"Excellent. Never answer a question you don't want to answer."
Amaya whispered,
"I like that one."
"I assumed you would."
She looked at him.
"Was that sarcasm?"
"No."
"It sounded like sarcasm."
"It wasn't."
Diana watched the exchange quietly.
Interesting.
The questions continued.
"Mr. Moretti's favorite drink?"
Amaya hesitated.
"...Coffee?"
"What kind?"
"Black. No sugar."
Diana tapped something into her tablet.
"Mrs. Moretti's favorite dessert?"
This time it was Ezekiel's turn to pause.
He looked at Amaya.
She smiled triumphantly.
"You don't know."
"I don't."
"It's banana cake."
He gave a single nod, committing it to memory.
Diana closed the tablet.
"You two have homework."
They both looked at her.
"You know almost nothing about each other."
"We do. It's just that everything happened rather quickly."
Amaya answered trying to cover up that it's a contract.
"She knows our situation."
Ezekiel said, noticing her clumsy attempt to explain.
"Oh...."
Diana just smiled at her.
On the drive home, silence settled between them.
Eventually, Amaya spoke.
"You could have at least told me a few persons knew about the contract."
"You're right. I should have told you. My apologies."
"Yeah."
Silence.
"You've really memorized my résumé."
"I had someone prepare a report."
She stared.
"You had someone prepare a report... on me?"
"I do that for everyone I work closely with."
She leaned back in her seat.
"I don't know if that's comforting or terrifying."
"It depends."
"On?"
"Whether you're hiding something."
She looked out the window.
"I'm not."
"I know."
The answer came so quickly that she looked back at him.
He had already returned to reading emails.
The gates of the estate opened.
Something immediately felt different.
Three unfamiliar cars occupied the circular driveway.
The staffs seemed unusually alert.
Elena hurried toward them.
"Welcome back, Mr. Moretti."
She lowered her voice.
"She's here."
Ezekiel already knew who.
"My grandmother?"
"Yes, sir."
He nodded once.
"I expected as much."
Amaya looked between them.
"I feel like I'm missing important information."
"You are. My grandmother is here."
That did absolutely nothing to reassure her.
The drawing room was quiet.
An elderly woman sat comfortably beside the fireplace, a teacup balanced delicately in one hand.
Her silver hair was perfectly arranged.
A pearl necklace rested against the collar of her elegant navy dress.
She looked refined.
Powerful.
The sort of woman who could silence a room simply by lifting an eyebrow.
She didn't stand when they entered.
She simply looked at them.
Then her gaze settled on Amaya.
"So."
Her voice was gentle.
"This is the mysterious wife."
Amaya smiled nervously.
"Hi."
The older woman rose gracefully and walked closer.
She circled Amaya once, studying her without embarrassment.
"You look nervous."
"I am."
A smile touched the woman's lips.
"Good."
Amaya blinked.
"Nervous people usually tell the truth."
Only then did she turn to Ezekiel.
"You married without telling me."
"I was busy."
"You've been busy for fourteen years."
"I have."
She sighed dramatically.
"I suppose that's the closest I'll get to an apology."
Amaya had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
The older woman extended her hand.
"I'm Isabella Moretti."
"Amaya Rossi... I mean..."
She glanced at Ezekiel.
"...Moretti."
Isabella smiled knowingly.
"That will take time."
Then, without warning, she linked arms with Amaya.
"I like her."
Ezekiel looked mildly surprised.
"That was fast."
"Would you rather I gate her?"
"I had expected to spend the afternoon convincing you she's a lovable person."
Silence.
Amaya slowly looked at him.
One of Isabella's eyebrows lifted.
Ezekiel cleared his throat.
"I meant... she is pleasant."
Amaya smiled mischievously.
"I'll take it."
As tea was served, Isabella looked between them thoughtfully.
"You'll both be having dinner with me tomorrow evening."
Amaya looked at Ezekiel.
He didn't object.
"It wasn't a request."
"I noticed."
After Isabella excused herself to rest, Amaya released a long breath.
"...Does she always announce plans instead of asking?"
"Yes."
"...Should I be worried?"
For the first time that day...
Ezekiel almost smiled.
"Probably."
Amaya groaned.
"I've survived media training."
He looked at her.
"Barely."
She gasped dramatically.
"Was that a joke?"
"...No."
She grinned.
"You're getting better at them."
He walked toward the staircase without answering.
But this time...
Amaya could have sworn the corner of his mouth lifted.
And somehow...
That felt like another small victory.
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