The Twelve Vitali Ch. 04

The breakup had remained amicable, of course. Ricco admitted he couldn't offer her a secure future, or any possibility of something beyond what they had now. For her part, she had told him that she understood that girls like her didn't belong in mansions and ballrooms, no matter how hard he argued with her that she did. She told him how uncomfortable she was with his large family and at black tie events. They would always be friends, they had promised, but she knew it would never happen, and, after a few awkward meetings at public events, they stopped making an effort to see each other even as friends. She had thrown herself into her art then too, as she always did when feeling emotional and vulnerable, time had moved on, and so, it seemed, had they.

Wiping his hands on a napkin, Matteo reached for the tablet and quickly navigated to the website. He swiped through the first few pages quickly, slowing down as some of the bigger artworks took his eye. She was good, he admitted. He could see how her style could compliment a range of different purposes. For himself, he imagined that her work could quite easily be used in a few of the projects he was currently working on.

"Impressive," he said at last. "I can see why Peri wanted to meet with you." He let his eyes scrutinise her as she ate.

"Thanks," she mumbled around another mouthful of pizza. She felt uncomfortable with the way Matteo seemed to be scrutinising her now. It felt as if she was an object he was considering purchasing. Even if she had been open to meeting the right man, which she wasn't, she reminded herself it couldn't be a man like Matt. She could never fit into the world he and the Donati's came from, just as she couldn't have fit into the world of the Vitali's. She knew he would never date a woman from welfare alley seriously, let alone a girl who had lived most of her life there. She pulled herself up short. She's known him all of an hour; he probably had the same one night stand thoughts she had considered when she was in the shower. One night she could possibly do with that intense gaze, she felt a quiver run through her.

"Is there something on my face again?" she asked, finally unable to take his scrutiny any longer.

"I have to admit I have never been with a woman who could eat half a pizza in one sitting," he admitted with a small chuckle.

"Of course not, you probably only keep company with women who eat one canape and tell you how full they are," she laughed with him as she let her thoughts be known about her impression of him.

"You are absolutely right!" he relaxed into a full belly laugh. "If they eat anything at all. You are definitely not like the women I tend to meet."

"I think I will take that as a compliment, so don't disillusion me if it's not," she grinned.

"Why did you travel here alone?" he asked. A funny, attractive woman like her shouldn't be travelling alone and wandering into apartments and being friendly with men she didn't know. He could have been a low-life who could have done anything to her.

"Who would I have come with if not alone? My parents aren't around. My brother finally has a job that is turning into a career, and I have no other ties," she said honestly. There was no need to mention the dismal failures of her ex-boyfriends. She'd grown up compensating and strategising for her unreliable mother, looking out for her brother and working around her ex-boyfriends wants and needs. She'd juggled two part-time jobs with her painting, kept house, fed people, paid bills, and was basically the only responsible person in her family for years and years. Now that her brother was settled and on his way to a real career it was her time, and she knew she had to leave all that behind if she ever wanted to live a life that included doing what she wanted and enjoyed.

"I'm through with taking the safe road and being cautious," she blurted. "Yes, I came all this way on a hope and a prayer. No job, no permanent place to live, I don't even know if I belong here or if Mrs. Donati will offer me the commission. I planned to stay in this apartment for the week it was offered to me for and figure it all out on my own, but I guess that's out of the question now," she huffed. She couldn't believe she was saying all of this to a perfect stranger, and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm sure I sound like a crazy woman to you."

"You sound very brave," he said softly. Every previous experience he'd had with women had led him to believe that they were never as they seemed, but something about her outburst touched him as being the truth. It could have been a made-up story to evoke sympathy and make him leave the apartment in the morning, allowing her to stay for the week alone and unhindered. The way she had confided that she wasn't in contact with her parents made him believe she had been through more than her fair share of trials. He'd learned his lessons the hard way though, and pulled himself up short knowing that he couldn't trust anything a woman said at face value.

Every woman he'd ever met wanted something from him. With his scheme to concoct a fake fiancé and engagement, he could give them what they wanted while getting what he needed in return without having to take any risks. It was a win-win situation. Everyone would get what they wanted, clean and upfront, with clear expectations and no disappointment.

They both remained quiet with their inner dialogue, and, out of habit when the pizza was finished, Cat got up and cleared the table, loading their plates into the small compact dishwasher and disposing of the beer bottles and napkins.

"You don't have to do that," Matteo said suddenly looming over her in the tiny kitchen. "Housekeeping comes in every day to clean up the place."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know. It only took a minute," Cat shrugged and looked up into Matteo's handsome face. A look passed between them again, and heat flared, colouring Cat's cheeks. She was quite tall for a woman, and she wasn't used to men towering over her, and it gave her a strange sensation making her uncomfortable as she looked into the dark pools of his eyes. "It's late, I think, I'll head to bed if you're sure about taking the couch. I don't mind, either way, I've slept on worse than a couch before," she tried to smile, and he stepped back, letting her pass with an equally strange expression on his face.

"You can stay and watch television, if you like, I have some work to do anyway, so I won't disturb you," he said, easily taking a second bottle of beer from the refrigerator and twisting the cap off. "Would you like another beer?" He asked, tilting the open bottle toward her.

"I can get my own," she said, feeling strangely over-whelmed by his closeness. She took a tentative step forward and was pleased when he stepped back and made room for her to get to the refrigerator. When she closed the door again holding the bottle, he had retreated to the couch once again.

"I should warn you that if you're planning on getting me drunk to take advantage of me, you're shit out of luck, I've given up on men entirely," she laughed lightly. "Before you ask, no, I'm not a lesbian, I've just had my quota of assholes for one lifetime." Putting her beer on the coffee table, Matteo offered her the remote, and she shook her head, walking away.

"That's a good thing, because I feel the same way. About women, I mean. I've had my fill of cold-hearted bitches!" he raised his voice as she left the room, then shrugged and placed the remote next to her beer, assuming she had gone to the bathroom.

"Was that meant to be a jibe at my attitude?" she asked in a strangely pleasant voice. She had come back with a sketchbook and some pencils. "There is one man in this world that I love and trust, and that's my brother. So, let's just agree to be friends tonight. I appreciate that you offered to take the couch, and I don't believe you're an asshole, just most men." She picked up her beer, and he watched as she wedged herself into a window sill on the opposite wall to where he sat and rested the sketchbook on her bent knees before taking a sip of her beer.

Matteo tried to concentrate on the tablet he held, but his eyes continued to be drawn to the woman who swung her head between the window and her sketch pad, making the strands of her still drying hair brush over the soft hills her breasts made under the soft shirt she wore. There was no denying she was attractive. While not usually his type, he could imagine with the right clothes and a little polish she could pass quite easily for someone who he could have met and started dating while visiting the Dante.

He began listing off the qualities he needed in the partnership he was looking for. Cat didn't want a romantic entanglement. Cat was talented and could use exposure he could give her art through his contacts and the projects his company had coming up. She could obviously use the money she would have access to, and he could afford to offer a very generous package for her, including allowances for clothes and other things she would need to play the part. He narrowed his eyes considering her again. She would need to be able to fool his fathers into believing they were a couple in love rather than a gold digger trying to get her hands on the power and prestige that went with their family name.

He toyed with the label of his beer bottle, peeling it off slowly and rolling it between his fingers as he realised she was perfect for his needs. He just had to work out what she needed the most, because he didn't think money alone would be enough to sway a girl like Catriona Leone into a loveless relationship based solely on a business partnership.

She would be gone from here tomorrow and possibly his life; and he was never one to pass up a golden opportunity when it sat right before his eyes like she did. He debated with himself over the fact that he knew nothing about her. He'd known her for a matter of hours, and she could be worse than the other women he had dismissed so easily. His thoughts continued to rage back and forth as he pretended to work on his tablet while watching her.

*****

"Cat, can we talk?" Matteo asked. "Seeing as we're friends and all," he chuckled, making her look over at him suspiciously.

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?" she asked in a rare show of sarcasm, but tempered it with a smile.

"I was hoping we could talk without you being on the other side of the room, and as there is no room for me in your windowsill," he patted the couch and raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Okay, I'm sorry I came on a little strong before," she sighed and went to sit with him, taking a chair opposite him rather than sitting on the couch with him.

"Don't apologise, I liked it. It's actually refreshing to find a woman so upfront about what she wants. I figure I'd do the same for you," he said carefully.

"It's your show," she put her sketchbook and pencils on the table, taking a sip of the beer she had forgotten about until moving from the window sill.

"For several reasons I can explain later, I need to find a woman willing to marry me for money and the social circles I move in rather than love. I meant what I said earlier. I've had enough manipulative bitches to last me a lifetime. What I'm looking for are a business partnership and, more importantly, honest friendship. There would be a contract drawn up listing what I can do for the woman who accepts my proposal and what I would expect in return. I am a wealthy man with a lot of contacts, particularly in the art world," he began to explain.

"Geez, and you accuse women of being cold-hearted," Cat laughed. "Let me guess, sex would be an optional extra? Or will it be in the contract as a once a week conjugal visit?" She laughed again at the ridiculousness of what he was saying. "Or, better yet, a Fifty Shades of Grey arrangement where you take out your hatred of women on the poor girl every weekend in a red room of pain!"

"I don't hate women, some of my best friends are women," he couldn't help but smile at her laughter or understand the reason for it. "I could possibly build you a red room of pain and enjoy having you in there if that was what you wanted," he shrugged.

"Wait! What?" she immediately became serious and blinked.

"We've become friends, surprisingly, in a matter of hours, and I imagine, in time, we could be the best of friends. Neither one of us is looking for love, so why not a partnership where we both get exactly what we want from the deal?" he asked reasonably. "Marry me," he said, holding out the paper ring he had fashioned from the label of his beer bottle.

"Holy shit! You're serious, aren't you!" she gasped.

"As a heart attack." He said, and winced, regretting his choice of words.

"Why the face?" she asked, frowning in concern.

"One of the reasons I need to give the appearance of marrying and settling down is that my father had a mild heart attack earlier this year," he said honestly. "It means a lot to him to see me settled in a solid relationship." He purposely left out any mention of love.

"Okay," she accepted the reason as being true. "So, tell me exactly how this would work?" She couldn't believe she was buying into this conversation, but what did she have to lose? She knew she wouldn't trust her heart to steer her on the right path ever again.

"May I?" he pointed to her sketch pad and pencil. When she nodded, he pulled it toward himself and drew a line down the middle of the page, labelling one side Matt and the other side Cat. On his side he wrote the word 'Hot Girlfriend', on her side, he wrote the words 'Rich Boyfriend' and ruled a line under each word.

"We talk about what we would both want as a must have and what we would like that's negotiable in the contract," he said. "To start with, I need and want a girlfriend who would become a fiancé in a very short amount of time, say three months. If we have a long enough engagement, we may never have to stand before a priest and say I do, but the possibility is there if, after a period of time to be determined, we both agree that the partnership is working and viable in the long term. In return, you would get the security of never having to worry about money, paying bills or day to day expenses."

"That would be a new and interesting experience for me," she admitted.

"Generally, you are not the type of woman I would normally date," he considered her. "To be able to convince my father that we are in love and marrying for the right reasons, I would need you to adjust your more casual style. That isn't to say you can't keep your personal creative style, just refine it a bit," he tackled a tricky subject of having to give her a complete make-over from top to toe. "I would, of course, pay for the transformation."

"And in exchange for me adjusting my style, you would?" she prompted, not in the least bit insulted by what he was saying. If he were as rich, as she suspected, then she wouldn't fit into his world wearing what she had in the small suitcase she had brought with her. She had learned that hard truth from Ricco.

"Set up accounts at preferred stores, spas and beauty therapists for you. Take you shopping several times myself so you can gauge my preferences and continue to shop accordingly. I don't wish to change who you are as an artist, just polish the edges a bit to make our partnership more believable to those that know me," he explained, and noted that she seemed to be taking his criticism of her wardrobe well.

"I assumed that was part and parcel of the change your styling needs. What do I get that want if I submit to your makeover and maintain it?" she asked. Matteo was impressed, she was shrewd, and he wondered if he had misjudged her, perhaps she was a manipulative bitch like all the other women he knew. It didn't matter in the end; this contract would be designed to protect him. Protect them both, really. It wasn't like he was putting his heart on the line, but he somehow still felt disappointed in her.

"An art studio and gallery to paint as you wish and sell your works to discerning buyers," he finally said after a moment's thought of what he knew about her. "I can also introduce you to those discerning buyers, along with curators of the state and national galleries in Victoria."

"You're from Melbourne?" she asked, wondering why she hadn't thought to ask this sooner. She had just assumed he was from Sydney for some reason, and a sickening knot began to form in the pit of her stomach.

"I am. I have an apartment in the city, but my main residence is a few hours' drive from Melbourne itself," he explained, wondering why she suddenly seemed to run out of energy going flat and becoming pale.

"I would be Mrs. Matt, who, exactly?" she asked in a stilted voice.

"Mrs. Matteo Vitali," he answered, knowing that she had probably put the pieces together once he mentioned Victoria. Her reaction to finding out who he was, however, was anything but what he had expected.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" she got to her feet. "I come thousands of miles across the country, and I'm still..." she stared at the look of shock on his face. Of course, he didn't know anything about her, Ricco never told anyone about their relationship. This was the most bizarre situation she had ever found herself in! 'What was wrong with this family?'

"Sorry, Matt, or should I call you Matteo now," she said, using his full name and seeing the surprise on his face. "Either way, this was a fun little game, but you're going to have to find yourself another girl, because there is no way your family would ever believe we were in love and planning to marry, and, honestly, I'd rather not see them again to find out!" She turned and walked from the room before he could say anything in response. She slammed the door to the bedroom and threw herself on the bed, cursing fate and it's awful sense of timing. Her life was a never-ending black comedy.

She'd been seriously considering what he was saying; it was win-win, as he had said. As his pretend girlfriend, she wouldn't even have to worry about Ned coming back into her life, the security around that family was phenomenal. She would have never gotten her heart broken again. Fuck! Her mind caught hold of her brother. What if raging at Matt had somehow jeopardised his job? If she took his deal she might be able to help David's career along, and she so desperately wanted a better life for David, a life nowhere near welfare ally or the childhood that had almost killed them both. At the very least she should apologise to Matt for her overreaction to finding out who he was. It could wait a little while longer, she decided, and picked up her phone, needing to touch base with the one person she knew loved her unconditionally.

"Hey, Dave," she smiled into the phone as he answered. "Yeah, flight was good, and the apartment is amazing. Mrs. Donati even sent a car to pick me up from the airport, so I had no trouble finding it." He was happy for her. Told her she was doing the right thing. It was about time she did something good for herself and left all of the crap with Ned behind her.

"Follow your dream, just don't forget your little brother when you're rich and famous," he had joked, and she had hung up feeling better, stronger, able to face the man in the next room and explain why she couldn't be his pretend girlfriend.

*****

Matteo had watched her go, stunned to speechlessness. His name and the prestige that came with it usually had the opposite effect on women, and, once the shock wore off, he considered her words carefully. She had obviously dealt with his family in some way, perhaps she was one of the residents evicted from welfare alley before he bought it. He knew who would know, after such an easy conversation about the business partnership proposal and her obvious consideration of what he was saying, he wasn't ready to give up on her yet. He needed answers, and he needed them now.