143

143
Matteo’s POV
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, save for the sound of Mr. Cavanaugh drumming his fingers against the polished conference table. His sour expression matched the tension in the air. The deal was slipping through our fingers, and Gianna was doing her best to salvage it, but even she seemed to be hitting a wall.
“This wasn’t what we agreed upon,” Cavanaugh said, his tone clipped. “These terms are a joke, Miss Lorenzo.”
Gianna, seated across from him, maintained her composure. “Mr. Cavanaugh, I assure you, the terms haven’t changed. We simply clarified the delivery schedule to ensure you’re not left waiting on product-”
“That’s irrelevant,” he snapped, cutting her off. “What’s relevant is that your team didn’t communicate these ‘clarifications’ until now. It feels… slippery.”
I glanced at Gianna, whose jaw tightened slightly, like a small crack in her otherwise impenetrable armor.
“Mr. Cavanaugh,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “if I may?”
Gianna shot me a quick look. It was hard to tell if it was permission or a warning, but I didn’t wait to find out.
“I understand your concerns,” I began, keeping my voice calm and steady. “It’s frustrating when last-minute details appear to shift, especially in a deal of this scale. But the adjustments we’ve made are actually to your advantage. The delivery schedule, for example, is designed to align with your peak operational needs, ensuring no downtime for your team.”
Cavanaugh raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. Good sign.
“And,” I continued, “as a gesture of goodwill, we’re prepared to offer a contingency clause. If there’s any deviation from the proposed schedule on our end, you’ll be compensated for the inconvenience.”
Gianna’s head turned toward me slightly, her expression unreadable.
Cavanaugh frowned, clearly considering my words. “A contingency clause?”
“Yes,” I said, leaning in a little more, meeting his gaze. “It shows our commitment to delivering exactly what we’ve promised. No surprises.”
The room fell silent as Cavanaugh mulled it over. I could feel Gianna’s eyes on me, but I kept my focus on Cavanaugh, willing him to take the bait.
“Fine,” he said at last, sitting back in his chair. “Draft the clause and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
“Absolutely,” I said, relief washing over me.
Cavanaugh stood, collecting his papers. “I hope this is the last of the ‘clarifications,’ Miss Lorenzo.”
“It will be,” Gianna assured him, her tone crisp and professional.
With a curt nod, he left the room, leaving me and Gianna alone in the echo of the door closing.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Well, that was fun.”
Gianna turned to me, her expression as sharp as ever. “You went off script.”
“I improvised,” I corrected, leaning back in my chair. “And it worked.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You took a risk. If he hadn’t agreed, we’d be in a worse position than we were before.”
“But he did agree,” I pointed out, flashing her a grin. “And now the deal’s back on track.”
Gianna crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed-or at least trying to seem that way. “Next time, run your ‘improvisations’ by me first.”
“Noted,” I said, though I doubted I’d actually follow that rule.
We sat in silence for a moment, the tension slowly easing. I watched as Gianna collected her notes, her movements precise and methodical.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” I said after a beat.
She glanced up at me, one eyebrow raised. “For what?”
“For saving the deal,” I said, smirking. “You’re impressed. Admit it.”
Her lips twitched, but she quickly suppressed the hint of a smile. “Don’t get cocky, Matteo. One win doesn’t make you a miracle worker.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You don’t have to admit it, you know. I can see it in your eyes.”
She rolled those very eyes, standing up and gathering her things. “Let’s focus on drafting that contingency clause before Cavanaugh changes his mind.”
Back at the hotel, Gianna had retreated to her laptop almost immediately, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she worked on the revised contract. I hovered nearby, unsure whether to offer my help or give her space.
“You can stop pacing,” she said without looking up.
I froze mid-step, caught. “I’m not pacing.”
“Yes, you are,” she said, her tone dry.
I sighed, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer to her. “Fine. What can I do to help?”
She glanced at me, her expression skeptical. “You’ve done enough for today.”
“Come on,” I said, leaning my chin on my hand. “Let me earn my keep.”
For a moment, she looked like she might argue, but then she slid her laptop toward me. “Fine. Start drafting the clause. I’ll review it when you’re done.”
An hour later, I handed her the laptop with a triumphant smile. “Draft complete. Feel free to bask in my brilliance.”
She scanned the document, her expression unreadable as she read through my work.
“It’s… decent,” she said at last, though her tone was begrudging.
“Decent?” I repeated, feigning offense. “I poured my heart and soul into that.”
She gave me a look. “Don’t push your luck.”
I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. “You know, you could just say ‘thank you.'”
“I could,” she said, smirking slightly. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Despite her usual guarded demeanor these days, I couldn’t help but notice the faintest crack in her walls. It was small-barely noticeable-but it was there.
“Why are you so hard on me?” I asked suddenly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
She looked up, clearly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you hold me to a higher standard than anyone else,” I said. “I get it-you’re my boss, and you’re supposed to challenge me. But sometimes, it feels like more than that.” I added, carefully excluding the part that we had mind blowing sex because if she was determined to ignore it, then I could too.
For a moment, she didn’t respond, her gaze flickering to the laptop screen.
“Because I expect more from you,” she said finally, her voice softer than usual. “You’ve got potential, Matteo. But potential doesn’t mean anything if you don’t deliver.”
I blinked, surprised by the honesty in her words.
“Wow,” I said after a beat. “A compliment *and* a life lesson. Should I write this down?”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late,” I said, grinning.