*Noah's POV*
The Italian restaurant Bianca chose screams money from every marble surface.
Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over tables draped in white linen. The kind of place where the bread basket costs more than most people's lunch.
"This is Osteria del Mare," Bianca announces as we're seated at a prime table by the window. "Best Italian food in the city."
She's dressed to kill in designer everything, sitting across from a man who looks like he stepped out of a cologne advertisement.
"Noah, Scarlett, meet Marcus Steele."
Marcus extends a manicured hand. His watch probably costs more than most cars.
"Pleasure to meet you both."
I shake his hand briefly. His grip is firm but calculated, like he's been coached on proper handshake technique.
"Marcus owns three restaurants in the city," Bianca gushes. "Plus that new gallery in SoHo."
"Family investments," Marcus says with practiced modesty. "I'm more interested in the cultural impact than the profits."
