Yasmine POV
After dinner, Luca's driver dropped me off at my building. He wished me goodnight before leaving. Inside, the apartment was quiet—Matt and Mark were already gone. I slipped out of my dress, changed into a silky camisole and pajama shorts, and crawled into bed.
Tomorrow, my paintings would be transferred to the gallery, where I'd meet with my curator about the themes and arrangements for next week's exhibition. There was still so much to do, and the apartment could wait until after the show.
But as I lay there, Luca filled my thoughts. He had been the perfect gentleman tonight, yet there was something in his eyes—an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Just two more dates and this will be over, I told myself. Still, part of me whispered that maybe a little fling wouldn't hurt.
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The next morning, I dressed in a white crop top and boyfriend jeans before meeting Diane, my curator. She had arranged for a team to move the paintings to the gallery. The day was hectic, but Diane's guidance made everything smoother, and I trusted her instincts.
She handed me the guest list for the exhibition's VIP night. My eyes froze on one name—Luca Rossi. I quickly returned the list and went back to applying varnish on a newly dried canvas, pretending it didn't faze me. Diane helped with framing, and we worked in comfortable silence.
By 2 p.m., everything was finished. The paintings were stored safely, covered with white sheets to protect them from dust. After saying goodbye, I hurried home, stopping at the grocery store for a few supplies.
Back at my apartment, I showered, made a sandwich with a glass of orange juice, and curled up with a Netflix show. That was when my phone rang.
"Yasmine Fernandez speaking," I answered, trying to sound professional.
"It's Luca."
My chest tightened. "How did you get my number?"
"I have my ways."
I paused. "Hmm. I see."
"I want to pick you up at six-thirty. Can you be ready by then?"
"Why?"
"It's a surprise. You'll know when we get there."
I sat straighter. "Luca, I don't think we're that close for surprises. Let me remind you—I agreed to three dinners, and that's it. Don't get the wrong idea."
"Ma dai… come on," he said softly. "I know it's soon, but why not give us a chance?"
I shook my head, even though he couldn't see it. "We're practically strangers. And honestly, I'm not looking for a relationship. I've thought about it, and I think it's better we stop this before it gets messy."
There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, his voice came low and steady.
"Okay… whatev
er you want, mia cara. I'll see you soon."