CEO of Taurus

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ctory has become my only passion," she says, shrugging. I could spend the whole morning listening to Monalisa talk. It's contagious to see a woman so sure of herself and eager to take charge. She exudes competence, and I have no doubt that she would make a wonderful CEO. The sound of footsteps coming from the hallway fills the meeting room. Automatically, I turn around, but instead of Lorenzo, I come face to face with Max. "Well, well, you really came?" he jokes, looking me up and down. I straighten up, surprised that he works here. Back in high school, Max was the type of person who didn't want to know anything. He preferred to spend all his time teasing girls instead of studying. I look at him too. He's grown into a handsome man. Tall and burly, he has the same gray eyes as his sister, but while hers are serious and focused, his remain mocking. "Anyone who's alive always shows up," I reply, with my chin raised. "For you to see," he winks, walking toward the table in the center of the room. He drops heavily into one of the chairs and looks at us with a curious expression. "So, what were you talking about?" "It doesn't interest you," Monalisa interrupts, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Her temperament hasn't changed at all. "Maybe Lorenzo does. Where is he?" "And I don't know," she retorts, turning her attention back to me. "I asked him to pick you up at the airport, but he wasn't able to do it." As if waiting for that cue, a cell phone starts ringing. Monalisa snorts and takes it out of the small bag she left on the table. I gather all my politeness and pretend not to hear the small argument that follows about confusion with schedules. "He's coming," Monalisa says, putting her phone back in her bag. Max shrugs and focuses on her own device. In front of the audience, we both move on to more casual topics. I don't know how much time passes before I feel like I'm being spied on through the open door. I glance sideways out of it and my heart beats faster. The last thing I expected was to be so affected when I came face to face with Lorenzo Santini. His serious gaze, as pure gray as a summer storm, falls on me as he steps forward and enters the room. There's not the slightest hint of a beer belly under his suit jacket, and I bet he has a nice six-pack there. Lorenzo hasn't gone bald either, and with that amount of brown hair I doubt he ever will.