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The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

Page 15

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“You mean you haven’t even started shopping?” His voice echoed louder than expected.

Phoebe pulled back a little and gave him a frown. “No. I haven’t started.”

Matteo strode over to the counter and thrust his card in front of one of the assistants. “Here’s my card. Can you take the details, so I can leave?”

The assistant gave him an icy stare. It was clear she didn’t like being treated so dismissively. She gave him a haughty smile. “I can take your details now—but you have to produce your card and match the signature to complete your purchases.” She gestured to the side. “You can always get yourself a coffee while your wife shops.”

Matteo started. She thought Phoebe was his wife? He stared at the boutique-style coffee shop housed inside the warehouse. While the smell of coffee was tempting, the waste of his time was not.

He turned to face Phoebe, who was standing open-mouthed. She must have heard the comment too. “How long will this take?”

Phoebe cringed. It was clear she didn’t want to give the true answer.

He flung up his hands. “How long does it take to buy some fabric and some vases?”

Phoebe’s face became pinched. She strode over to the nearest large trolley and turned to one of the assistants. “Are we ready to get started?”

Matteo tried not to let his mouth bounce off the floor. She’d just completely ignored him. Part of him was amused, part of him was annoyed. She had a huge sketch pad balanced on top of the trolley. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and pointed to her first sketch. “This is the color palette I’m interested in. Can we go in that direction please?”

Matteo’s curiosity was piqued. Didn’t every interior designer just paint houses in white or shades of cream?

The assistant looked positively excited. “Oh, that’s so unusual.” She leaned over the sketch. “And I love this color palette. I’m sure we can find you some perfect fabrics that will suit.”

The assistant started pushing the trolley in one direction. Matteo glanced at the coffee shop. He could sit there. But as he glanced at his phone he could see the signal here wasn’t great—probably why the sat-nav hadn’t functioned. How much work would he really get done?

Before he could think again, his feet started to follow the trolley and Phoebe and the assistant. They moved past the white and cream rolls of fabrics, away from the brighter reds and oranges and toward the back of the warehouse. Whatever color she’d chosen it clearly wasn’t the most popular. His stomach gave a little twist. Maybe he should be showing more interest?

He walked quickly, catching up with them and leaning directly over Phoebe’s shoulder. He blinked. Then nearly stumbled, reaching out and catching onto the handle of the trolley.

“Yellow?” he asked Phoebe.

She gave him a firm stare. “Oh, you’ve joined us.” Her tone reminded him of a headmistress.

His eyes couldn’t move from the sketch. It was more than good. A hand drawing that had captured the whole breadth of the main room, gently shaded with coloring pencils in shades of gray, yellow, pale blue and cream.

It was beautiful. Exquisite even. But yellow was a color he’d never really seen at any other houses for sale. It did seem unusual.

Phoebe pointed to the sketch. “I always like to choose a color palette—a theme—for any house that I dress.” She pressed her lips together for a second. “While it makes sense to use a neutral background color, I always have to pick some secondary colors to highlight parts of the interior.” She turned to face Matteo. “In your case, what other color could I choose? The yellow dome above the atrium is really the focal point of the house. It bathes the whole house in that magical yellow light. Yellow seems the natural color to pick out. I’ve teamed it with some shades of pale blue, gray and cream.” She flicked the first page to show him a sketch of one of the bathrooms, followed by one of the bedrooms, then the back room that looked out over Mecox Bay.

The attention to detail was extraordinary. The main room still had the same nineteen-fifties sofa, but this time it was covered in what looked like pale blue leather. The drapes were striped in shades of pale yellow and gray. There was a sleek gray rug on the large wooden floor. All of this was dressed with bursts of bright yellow. A sunflower portrait on the wall. A few cushions, and a bright yellow table lamp. “You did all these in the last few days?”

Phoebe nodded. “Of course, I did. This is what I do.” She looked at him hesitantly. “I did do an alternative color scheme if you’d prefer.” She flicked to the back of the sketch pad where she had the same room sketches, but this time with white, beige and splashes of orange. It was more abstract, but more traditional. The kind of thing he was used to seeing in other houses. He gave a little shudder. Even though the yellow was a surprise, it was clear the more stark colors wouldn’t complement the house as much. The yellow gave the house a warmth that made it much more welcoming.


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