Читать книгу The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride - Scarlet Wilson - Страница 3

Matteo stayed behind her, following her from room to room.

“Phoebe... Ms. Gates. Does this mean you’ll take the job?”

She could hardly speak. Room after room, there were so many thoughts clambering in her brain about how gorgeous she could make this place that she could hardly form words. Her dream job. The job that could change her whole career. A chance to pay off her mother’s medical bills. A chance to move forward. A chance to pull herself out of the fog that had hung around her for the last few years.

“Phoebe.” His voice grew sharp and he gave her arm a pull, tugging her around to face him. Her hands rested on his upper arms. She couldn’t help herself. She almost wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek. She let out a laugh.

“Do I want the job? Absolutely. Now I’ve seen it, this place is mine. Matteo, I’m going to do such a good job, you’re never going to want to let me go.”

It was the briefest of seconds. A wash of sadness seemed to sweep his face. A whole host of something she really didn’t understand. But as soon as it had appeared, the shutters came down in his eyes again. Matteo Bianchi had the perfect mask. The perfect face for business.

The edges of his lips curved upward. For the first time since she’d met him, the tension in his shoulders actually looked as if it disappeared a little. “Phoebe, a quarter of a million dollars for four weeks’ work, and I will let you go.”