Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) Read online

  “You’ll also hear people mention some of the tragedy surrounding my family years ago. My older brother accidently fell to his death when he was six years old. My mother was distraught and she died of alcohol poisoning within the year. All of this happened more than twenty-five years ago. It was tragic, but the story ends there.”

  He watched as concern and sadness washed across her face. “I’m sorry. It seems so unfair.”

  “I haven’t disclosed this information to launch a discussion. Instead I want you to be aware of the circumstances and understand that I have no interest in exploring any of this or using it in the film in any way. It has no bearing on the work at the quarry or the life of a quarry worker.”

  She took a moment before responding and then said, “If it made you who you are, then it is probably relevant.”

  “It’s not.”

  He would need to be careful, as he could see it was her nature to ask probing questions and he could tell her mind was working overtime with the little bit of information that he had given her.

  “I’ll give you a tour of the shop.” He tried to block out all thoughts about the past as he pressed the button for the elevator. As the doors opened to the work area, Marc pressed a hand into her lower back and gently guided her forward.

  Within moments, they were out of the spacious customer area, and he led her through a set of steel doors to the shop. It was a busy day. There were many workers using power tools to complete projects and most of the conversations taking place were in Italian.

  Isabel stopped at a marble fountain adorned with four rearing stallions spurting water from open mouths into a large pool.

  “This fountain is for a hotel in Florida. It is almost ready to ship, but we are testing the water flow,” Marc said to her.

  “It’s absolutely beautiful.” Isabel walked around the fountain and reached down to lightly run her hand along the edge.

  Her graceful movements held him mesmerized as she moved around the fountain exploring the design. Her shiny hair, long and dark, grazed her back and he noticed the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled. He reminded himself sternly that she was there to create a film, not for his pleasure.

  “Whimsical designs appeal to you.”

  Isabel looked up and said, “I wouldn’t describe the work as whimsical.”

  “That may be a problem, as that is what the hotel specifically asked for.” Marc smiled at her comment.

  She laughed and looked up at him saying, “I’m sure that they will be pleased with the outcome.”

  Marc stopped along the way to introduce her to his foreman and explain her role. He noticed that she drew a lot of interest from his workers.

  He took her past the open shop area to a design room. There were a few marble statues in various states of completion.

  Marc brought her over to an entire wall of photographs. He noticed she moved closer and began studying all of the images. Most of the photographs were quite old and featured the quarry.

  Marc pointed to a small photograph of two men in work clothes with their arms around each other smiling into the camera. He said, “This was my grandfather with Alberto before I was born.”

  When she turned to look again at the photographs, he realized he wanted her. He wanted to explore her supple body and hear her moan in delight. Unfortunately she was by her very nature inquisitive, which meant she should be off limits. The last thing he needed were questions about the past. And he could already tell she would want more from him than he was willing to give to a relationship.

  He preferred career women who had their own agenda and who didn’t expect him to share every thought and action with them. He knew instinctively Isabel would crave an intimate connection. She wouldn’t be interested in a surface relationship no matter how pleasing that could be.

  “You have so much to be proud of.”

  He was surprised by her acknowledgement. “I did what was expected of me and in doing so honored my family’s legacy.”

  He guided her to another studio that had more projects underway.

  In the doorway, she turned to him and said, “You’ve been on your own since you were twenty. I read your father had a heart attack when he wasn’t quite fifty.”

  He merely nodded his agreement instead of offering any information.

  “I would like to interview you for the film.”

  “That wasn’t part of the bargain. Your purpose was to capture a lost way of life. Document the past. Not do an exposé on me.”

  Isabel stopped walking and turned toward him. “I need to show what has taken its place. The quarry men may not walk to work singing in large numbers, but the sense of community has been re-created. The men you employ are part of a new culture. The story won’t make sense without showing your influence or leadership.”

  He gave interviews to business magazines occasionally if the incentive was right, but discussing his leadership style was not what motivated him. He enjoyed the game and winning. “I can’t imagine my leadership style would impact the way the story is told.”

  “But you create the motivation, the reason they strive to get it right.”

  “I have no intention of letting this film become about my perfectionism. That story has been told.”

  “Let’s tell it in a different way.”

  He couldn’t believe he was allowing this conversation to continue. He said, “Impossible.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. “You need to trust me to find the right way.”

  Marc looked down at her and asked, “Why would I trust you?”

  She didn’t back down. “You have the final edit. If it doesn’t work in the end, cut it.”

  A silence surrounded them as he became aware of the shop floor humming with activity. Marc ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want to film?”

  “Maybe small pieces of a new project. You explaining the concept to the men. Coming back to give feedback. You making adjustments. Guiding them. The typical process.”

  “I’m not that involved in a project.”

  “When I’ve spoken with a few of your workers, they mention your involvement in each aspect of the design process.”

  “You make it sound as if I’m an insane control freak.”

  She glanced around the shop. “No, just a hands-on leader, conveying the purpose to your staff.”

  “I don’t want the film to be about Santoro.”

  “Marc, I can’t film this without you. You are the creative force behind Santoro Designs. Aren’t you proud of the work that you do?”

  “I’m not going to apologize for being tough. My employees know if they don’t get it right, they either need to fix it or I’ll have someone who can do the work take over.”

  She met his gaze and smiled. “I’ll cut the scenes where you come across as a lunatic.”

  “We’ve taken a commission from a luxury hotel chain in California. I’ll introduce the project at a meeting in the morning. Does that work?”

  “I would like to bring in a cameraman just for this shoot.”

  “No, we agreed you are the only on-site person.”

  “Fine, I’ll come in early and set-up in the conference room, and then I’ll place another camera at a fixed location within the room.”

  Marc left her to begin taking photographs and deciding if she wanted to film some of the work or interview employees. As he walked back to the elevator, he began to realize his life would get more complicated over the next several weeks. For some reason he didn’t quite understand, Isabel Neri was beginning to invade every aspect of his life. He would need to make more of an effort to block her out.

  Chapter 4

  The streets were coming alive as Isabel stood in line at the bakery. She ordered a dozen croissants, bagels, and an assortment of pastries. Carefully packing the items in her shopping bag, she took a moment to notice the early morning light filtering in the mostly residential street but she didn’t allow herself to linger. She flagged down a tax
i at the next intersection and struggled to place her equipment and purchases in the back seat without dropping anything as she gave the driver the address to Santoro Designs. Her thoughts were drawn to filming the kick-off meeting.

  Stepping out of the taxi, Isabel noticed the showroom wasn’t open yet. Finding the employee side entrance, she smiled as one of the sculptors held the door for her and offered to help carry her equipment.

  Setting up the bakery items along with strawberries on the conference room table, she took a deep breath as she looked around the stylish space. Isabel assembled a fixed camera and placed it opposite the smart board in the room. Taking out the hand-held camera, she tested the lighting in the room and decided on the angles for capturing the meeting.

  Within a few minutes, the staff began to come into the conference room. While they were eating, she gently reminded them to forget the camera would be recording but to pay attention to their posture, standing or sitting straight and speaking in clear sentences. Isabel made an effort to put the staff at ease as they asked questions and reminded them that most of the footage would be cut. A sculptor was surprised when she mentioned that she typically filmed at least two hundred hours to get a sixty-minute film.

  Marc joined them at seven thirty and immediately Isabel could feel the tension in the room as the employees responded to his directives. He held back and let his general manager, Roberto, an older man with a slight accent and good-natured personality, take over.

  The meeting lasted a half an hour. Marc said a few words to encourage the staff assembled and it was evident that he was respected. The general manager used the smart board to show photographs of the location and explained the concept to everyone. Roberto spoke about the upscale hotel wanting a marble terrace along with fountains, benches, and a series of wood fairies in their elaborate gardens.

  After a short while, the general manager opened the meeting up to ideas, but the dozen or so employees were all silent.

  Marc spoke to the assembled staff. “You need to forget the beautiful woman filming this meeting. This needs to be a typical kick-off meeting with everyone giving ideas. Peter, what are your thoughts?”

  Isabel felt his gaze on her and noted Marc knew where to place his body and was easy to capture on film.

  A younger man stood up a little straighter. “Wood fairies can be tricky. What is the overall look that the client is asking for? Childlike or sexy?”

  The general manager changed the image on the smart board to show the gardens again.

  Roberto answered, “The landscape architectural firm imagines magical nymph-like creatures. Not overtly sexual but inviting.”

  There was some good-natured joking and the conversation started to become more natural as the focus became the design elements.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur as Isabel photographed the intricate work they did with marble and spoke with various employees. She found herself speaking in Italian, as almost all of the employees came from the Carrara region and most of the other conversations taking place were in Italian. After a few hours, the staff began to forget she was present and the work took over.

  Isabel took hundreds of photographs and began to consider the flow of information that would be presented on film and who she would interview.

  She was exhausted. Each muscle in her body was sore and stiff. Stretching her back and taking a sip of water, she was pleased with the results of the day. She began to pack up all of the equipment.

  It was well past six o’clock and the showroom was dark and deserted. Finding a taxi at this time would be difficult as everyone rushed home from work. She contemplated leaving the equipment, but she knew it was better to download the information and clean and check over the mechanical parts of the cameras.

  Marc stepped off the elevator and noticed Isabel packing up her equipment.

  “You put in a long day.”

  He could barely take his eyes off her curves. Once again, he could tell questions were forming in her mind. He didn’t need her inquisitive nature getting under his skin. He needed uncomplicated, mind-blowing sex. He could tell that wouldn’t happen with her. She would want to know everything he was thinking.

  She didn’t make eye contact. “I captured quite a bit, so hopefully I’ll be able to use several minutes.”

  For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want her to escape back into her orderly life. “Let me help you.”

  He watched her shake her head as she picked up the large camera and held several smaller bags in her other hand.

  “I can flag down a taxi.”

  “I’ll give you a lift. It’ll be impossible to find a taxi at this time of night.”

  Isabel hesitated. This was her first real project and she needed to prove herself. She didn’t want to get too close to him. The more she kept Marc at a distance, the more independence she would have with the project. He wanted to control every aspect of her work. Yet she felt drawn to him and something had shifted slightly between them. She was becoming more tuned in to his movements and intensity.

  “It’s better if I make my own way home.”

  “We are both adults. I’m sure we can resist the attraction for an hour or two.”

  Isabel looked at him in surprise. She couldn’t believe he had acknowledged the chemistry between them.

  He took the larger equipment bag from her and strode to the back entrance. She followed him to a blood-red Maserati parked near the building. Marc opened the passenger door and tucked the equipment behind the seats.

  He held the door for her while she climbed into the seat. Isabel noticed his closeness as he got into the low-slung sports car. The smell of new leather and his musky cologne assaulted her senses. Within seconds, the engine sprang to life and she could feel the power of the car as Marc reversed and then pulled out of the gated yard, nodding to the security guard.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “You don’t need to feed me.” Isabel smoothed the slim- fitting jeans over her legs. “You could just drop me off at home.”

  Marc’s voice was charming and sexy. “There are some aspects of the filming we need to discuss.”

  Isabel glanced out at the busy traffic. Maybe she should use the time to discuss the project, but she didn’t want to overstep their professional working relationship by becoming too personal.

  He seemed younger, more carefree as he drove the city streets. Within a few minutes, Marc turned into an underground parking garage.

  “Where are we?” she asked as he turned off the powerful engine.

  Marc met her gaze and his eyes challenged her. “The Back Bay area. I have a loft apartment in this building.”

  “I don’t make it a habit of going to——”

  “A private residence? You came to my home on the Vineyard.”

  She reminded herself to stop imagining things. He was probably comfortable taking women to his loft.

  He smiled at her. “You are an interesting mix of independence and tradition.” After a brief pause, he said, “We can order in.”

  He opened his door and got out.

  Isabel gathered her bag and opened the door. Marc came around the car and offered his hand, he tugged her out of the car, and excitement raced along her spine.

  She stepped away from him and tried to clear her head.

  Marc walked toward the elevators. “There are only a few days before we travel to Carrara and we need to discuss the logistics of the trip.”

  Isabel felt a little out of her element as she followed him into the elevator. She knew he didn’t have an interest in her. She had seen photographs of him this week in an online industry magazine; he had attended a gala with a tall, glamorous blonde. But for some reason, he made her hyper-aware of his each movement.

  Stepping off the cargo elevator, Isabel held back as Marc put a code into the keypad and opened the door.

  The large loft apartment had an industrial feel with soaring ceilings. Isabel walked further into the space, admiring the large wi
ndows and exposed steel beams with a gleaming distressed wood floor. Enormous black-and-white photographs of Carrara drew her interest. She scanned the rest of the space and noticed a floating marble staircase and luminous marble countertops in the luxurious kitchen.

  “This place is beautiful. I love the marble.” Isabel turned and glanced at Marc. He met her gaze and she felt a tremor go through her body.

  It was odd. It was almost as if he was sharing a part of himself with her. It made her curious about him. He was so private. Why would he bring her here?

  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Isabel nodded and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to glance out at the view of the bay.

  She heard Marc place a call to his assistant for Thai food and then open a bottle of wine. She watched him pouring the wine and had to drag herself away from the view.

  “What was this building originally?” She had lived in Boston her entire life and had never seen the bay from such a vantage point.

  “It housed a company that made parts for the shipping industry.”

  She took the glass of cabernet sauvignon he offered her and tried to dispel the growing attraction she felt for him. She reminded herself he was just a man. A man who prized perfection over everything else.

  “To your film.”

  Taking a sip, Isabel noticed he held her gaze and she felt her heart skip a beat. She needed the project and reminded herself not to be charmed by him. He would be repulsed by her body if she ever let him get too close.

  Isabel placed the wine glass on the table.

  “I don’t know why you invited me here.”

  Marc shrugged his powerful shoulders. He had removed his suit jacket and tie and looked less intimidating in a white button-down dress shirt and gray trousers.

  “I’d like to get to know you better before we leave for Carrara.”

  Isabel turned away from him. She felt underdressed in her white, button-down shirt and jeans. She had dressed for a long day of filming, not dinner with a perfection-seeking industrialist.