"That’s it, I’ve heard enough.
You."
One of the investors, who had been taking his ti to make an offer and show his rits, was just shut down, and another was given the floor.
This was the first ti it had happened. So had been shut down by virtue of their looks, and others, Prisca simply let them talk till she got tired.
The next individual had a line of shops placed in strategic locations across the major countries in Europe.
His ntion of a blooming rger had Prisca paying very close attention, not even her assistant could resist.
This was my first ti in this sort of setting, and I found myself fascinated by the way emotions shifted and ssages were conveyed purely through expressions.
Denise usually handled this, and I wondered whether I had been missing out on so fun encounters all this ti.
"At the mont, we have ten million dollars on the table, a sum which can be tripled with your presence."
A small smile tugged at my lips as the confidence of the current speaker clearly bood, and I laughed inwardly at the defeated looks that covered so faces.
Truly, the man with the mic had many well beaten. His closest competitor was so woman with a shopping line and diocre designers.
"I like your work. It seems we’ll be eting later," Prisca said when the speech was over. She turned to her assistant aningfully, and the woman quickly wrote sothing down.
"Alright, that will be the end of this eting," Prisca started, but her assistant subtly nudged her.
"Madam, there is one more person."
"I know, but my ti is precious and it’s been maxed out."
Considering I had rushed her and then had to sit through over an hour of business talk, I wasn’t pleased by Prisca’s words, but the woman didn’t even give the chance to make my displeasure known.
Done with her assistant, she dropped another line for us at the table and proudly marched out.
"Whoa," I said in my head.
Prisca was beautiful, that much was a fact. I had paid no further attention to the woman’s appearance, not even to her weird outfit, until she stood and I saw her height.
The woman was tall, a sexy tall. She stood taller than and wore a purple dress with black stripes at its ends, hugging her body and showing off her slim figure.
Her curves weren’t jaw-dropping, but placed on her tall fra, I wanted to climb.
"A different taste," I thought to myself, my cock stirring as I watched the last of her.
Catching sight of the pitiful looks that ca my way, many using my situation to feel better about their obvious failure in their venture here, I rubbed my forehead with my right thumb and index finger.
I wanted to speak but felt weak.
In this room, everyone, including the hot cake that had just walked out, was beneath . I wondered what Chiara was thinking when she set this woman as a target for .
Leaving the building, I walked past Prisca and her assistant, who were held up by a bunch of reporters.
A mix of English and French flew about, no one paying any mind.
"I’m hungry."
Because of the eting, I had left the hotel without having anything to eat, and I considered visiting Bella Italia.
"So much traffic."
At the sidewalk, I couldn’t find a taxi in the vicinity. Sleek black cars and the like filled the place, vehicles belonging to the businessn who had co to et Prisca.
Everyone wanted to look the part.
Other than feeling I had wasted my ti, I didn’t consider Prisca an issue, she was small fry to .
Deciding to walk a few blocks down to find a cab, I didn’t know when I began enjoying the walk. The cool breeze and clouds in the sky comforted .
My mind wandered, idly thinking and imagining. Sohow, I found myself picturing how Ninja Momma moaned during sex, then a loud sound rang in my ears.
Looking to my left, I saw that a black limousine had honked and stopped by my side.
I raised a brow as the driver got out of the car and walked over to .
"The madam, she want a see you now."
The driver’s English was heavily influenced by his Italian accent, but I looked past that and stared at the car.
Echo!!
"Sure," I said, taking a step forward as the door was opened for .
The outside was already cool, but inside the limousine was much cooler. The lighting was just perfect, and I could see a mini table carrying a glass of wine already set before Prisca.
My gaze went to the woman’s assistant, who had a smile on, and from it, I could guess she had a hand in her boss inviting here.
"C’est toi qui viens de la part de Mada Chiara."
Prisca’s French was smooth and eloquent, honestly, it gave goosebumps, but I did not understand what she had said.
My confusion showed, and the woman snorted.
"The madam is asking if you are the person sent by Madam Chiara."
During the eting not more than an hour ago, while not perfect, Prisca had communicated in good enough English.
I understood the woman being pompous, but at this point, it was clear she had sothing against .
"Mê pas fichu de parler avec ton client."
I didn’t understand what Prisca said, but the annoyed tone in which she said it and her assistant’s hard smile told enough.
"You seem to have a personal grudge with , Prisca. May I know what it is?"
The woman’s eyes widened at my plain words, and frowning, she snorted once more.
"What can you offer , Mr. Lawson?" This ti, she asked in English.
"You understand I co from Chiara, right? Your behaviour towards will be dutifully reported to her."
"Please, I hope you do," the young fashion designer said, and imdiately I understood.
She already asked you to convert to her Christian faith and co under her, but you refused, right?
"What can you offer , Mr. Lawson?"
"I’m a billionaire."
Reviews
All reviews (0)