Page 71 of Blue Gold
I rolled my eyes because he knew how to pronounce confusing and just pretended not to.
“The pork sounds delicious, but I also want to try the catfish,” Claudia said, lowering her menu to look between us. “How about we all just share?”
“Oui, sound good.” Elliot beamed, eyes locked with mine a second before Claudia looked at him.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. We could all share, Daniel.” The pause after my name was deliberate. “You agree?”
Elliot certainly made the most of Claudia’s naivety to believe that he was struggling with English and that it was all just poor wording. But my situation differed, and every “innocent” comment he spat was well calculated and hit the spot. That was one of Elliot’s great talents, to look rather clueless while not being so at all. He was sharp as a knife, and I realized it a little too late because now his blade was pointed at my throat.
I thought of saying something when a waiter came to our table.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked before Claudia proceeded to order about half the menu.
Once he left, I looked at her with a raised brow.
“What’s with that look?” She frowned.
“Nothing. You just ordered enough food to feed a whole fleet.”
She ruffled her blonde curls before reaching for her drink. “We’re here to celebrate Elliot tonight, so what’s wrong with spending a bit?” Raising her glass, she smiled at him. “You were so wonderful this week that the whole industry is talking about you and you alone, my dear, so cheers to you.”
Despite the upsetting situation, I was still proud to hear how well he was doing. Moreover, my heart swooned at the first genuine smile that took over his lips tonight.
“It is not big deal.” He tried playing it cool. “All I do is wear clothes and walk.”
“Nonsense.” Claudia dismissed him with a hand wave. “You’re a true artist at your craft, and from what I heard, even Renieri are asking about you now.”
Despite not being big on fashion, I still recognized the name Renieri, the famous Italian brand, owned by Vito Renieri, who was a rather notorious fashion designer and businessman. That man had taken a dying family brand and single-handedly turned it into one of the biggest fashion dynasties in the world in the span of a few years.
I’d once wanted to work with their USA brand, yet Father firmly refused because of Vito’s reputation, saying we should not associate ourselves with an Italian cocksucker.
My mood darkened with the memories, and I grabbed a bun from the bread basket. Tearing a chunk, I shoved it in my mouth and chewed while listening to the exchange of words between Claudia and Elliot.
“What you heard is a lie,” Elliot said as he circled the rim of his glass with his finger. “Because they do not want me.”
Claudia’s stare deepened. “There’s no way.”
He nodded. “There is way. They do not even call Robert back, and he say it is because I do not have… euh… what it take.” He used air quotes, and I frowned at him.
“Who’s Robert?”
Elliot’s attention moved to me. “My agent.”
“Renieri… You want to work with them?” I asked.
The table went silent for some reason until Elliot nodded.
“Oui.”
Noted.
“So, what are your plans now that New York Fashion Week is over?” Claudia asked, and I realized I hadn’t thought about it.
Somehow, I assumed Elliot would stay in the city, which was silly of me, considering how popular he’d become.
Because I was a rather pathetic man who hung on his obsessions, I’d followed Elliot’s tracks over the past year. I bought any magazine he appeared in, asked around when it didn’t sound suspicious, and watched every show or commercial he was on. I thought that admiring him from afar would be my best option and had attempted to stick to it until two nights ago, when I realized I couldn’t stay away, not when he was within arm’s reach—as he was right now. Perhaps him leaving the city would be a good thing? Because despite my wife sitting right next to me throughout this chaotic dinner, all I wanted was to take Elliot to the bathroom, strip him out of his clothes, and take him raw against the wall in one of the stalls.
