Her Unexpected Admirer Page 0,1
understanding chemistry and how the world was created. He could look across a piece of land and could know exactly where to drill for oil. And he’d come up with a perfect way to capture that oil, improving the efficiency and capture rate of the product so the environment was safer.
But not only oil, he had just recently purchased the largest solar array in North America. He was experimenting with the chemical makeup of the solar glass, wanting to make even that more efficient. The earth was going to run out of fossil fuels very quickly and he was determined to introduce a new way to harvest the sun’s energy, make solar energy available even to people who lived in cloudy environments. The solution was out there, it just took an understanding of chemistry, logic and patience, to figure out the solution.
The scary woman standing next to him – obviously offering up herself as well as the paintings – replied, “The showing just opened ten minutes ago. So at this point, all of them are available. Which are you interested in?” Normally, she would wheedle a bit of information out of interested parties, just to make sure they knew how much a particular painting cost. In most cases, the cost ranged in the tens of thousands of dollars for just one piece. Also, of course, she wanted to find out if they could afford the artwork. In this case, she had no concerns. This was Davis Alfieri, after all. Rumor had it that he could afford the moon if he wanted it. It was whispered that this tall, dark, handsome financial guru owned a palace in Saudi Arabia, a penthouse in London, New York and Tokyo and had a fabulous house in Atlanta. Obscene wealth and harsh, good looks, she thought, actually licking her lips. The two were rarely in one package.
Davis considered his answer and, for the first time in his life, made a decision based on emotion. On need instead of financial logic. “All of them,” he replied.
The woman’s body froze even while her eyes widened with surprise. “All of them?” she asked, almost whispering the words because she was so stunned.
“Every one of them,” he confirmed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her Cheshire cat smile start to form. “Yes, Mr. Alfieri,” she said, clearing her throat and becoming all business.
He wasn’t surprised that she knew who he was. Davis had been in the news a lot recently. He rarely did interviews, but somehow, the obnoxious paparazzi found him and photographed him. It wasn’t like he was a celebrity, he thought with resentment. He just knew how to make money and did it extremely well. All of his brothers had the same problem but the idiots seemed to be plaguing him more than usual lately.
“Where is the artist?” he demanded, looking around at the gallery to try and guess which one of the guests milling around was the artist.
The woman hesitated, looking up at him for a moment. “The only way I could convince this particular artist to show these works was to guarantee anonymity.”
Davis thought about that for a moment as he looked at the other paintings. There were twelve in all and he wanted every one of them in his various properties and offices around the world.
“I want more of them,” he stated firmly, even shocking himself at that statement, but as he said it, he knew it was true. He wanted more. He wanted to surround himself with this art. “Tell me about the artist,” he demanded.
“To what do you owe your phenomenal success?” the reporter asked, sending her “sexy” smile his way.
Davis Alfieri refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely. He suspected that reporters shared a list of questions they asked, because none of them ever came up with an original one. And since none of them asked him a new question, he didn’t even try to come up with a unique answer. He spouted the same thing he said to every reporter who had asked him this question over the years. “Success is not an accident. It is waking up every day, determined to get something done.”
He could see the disappointment in her pretty eyes but Davis didn’t care. He did these tedious interviews recently simply because his public relations director arranged them, explaining that the public wanted to know about him. If he would just give some information to people, the paparazzi might back off.
Her reasoning made