LONELY HEARTS (COMPLETE)

Chapter 3: The Meeting

Gemma walks past the guards and slides into the car. The black leather is cool from the air conditioning and it smells of sandalwood. The SUV was clearly custom made specifically for this man. The windows were thick, definitely bulletproof and the seats were benched, facing one another. The two guards jump into the opposite side of her. One shuffles through his pockets and pulls out a black scarf.

"I'm sorry Miss Hunter, but I'm afraid you'll have to put this on before we depart".

What is this, a blindfold?", Gemma jokes. The guard just stares and blinks at her for a second.

"Oh, you're serious", she breaks the awkward silence,"Is this really necessary?"

"I'm afraid so".

Normally Gemma wouldn't do anything so ridiculous, but she wanted answers and her curiosity got the best of her. She hesitantly ties the blindfold around her eyes, feeling her long lashes push against her eyelids. Once the guard felt it was secure, he signals the driver to go.

The car ride wasn't particularly long, it's seemed roughly 20 minutes but the blindfold made it hard somehow to determine time. She finally feels the car come to a complete stop and the guards start climbing out. One opens the door, while the other carefully takes Gemma's hand and helps her down the running board.

"This way", the guard directs as he holds her by the hand and waist. As they enter through the door, she can hear the guards being buzzed in and some slight chatter in the distance. They walk into an elevator and guard removes her blindfold. Gemma is relieved and eager to soak up her surroundings. The elevator doors open up to a hallway with one single mahogany door.

"This looks like a high rise, but this seems to be the only door on this floor", Gemma thought. "This guy is serious".

The guards open the doors leading into an entryway. The decor was a mix of traditional and modern. All the furniture was dark wood, adorned with what looked like expensive sculptures and decorative pieces. Gemma walked through the foyer and lead into the living room, her eyes darted all around. Classic paintings hung on grey walls and the sofa was a dark red velvet. The fireplace was stone, void of any family photos or memories.

The guard directed Gemma to another giant door on the left. He opens it to reveal Matteo partially sitting on his desk, taking a swig of scotch. Two men in lavish suits are sitting across from him, both look like the same men that were with Matteo the other night at the bar. They were both talking and laughing amongst each other until they noticed Gemma in the room, standing in the doorframe. All three men have stopped talking and turned to stare at Gemma. Matteo skimmed his eyes across her entire body. He was entranced by her deep, green eyes and tan skin. He appreciated the red pout of her lips, naturally parting ever so slightly when closed. His eager eyes trailed down to her body, tracing her voluptuous curves enveloped in a tight black dress. Collecting himself, Matteo signals the gentlemen to leave the room. As they get up, they give Gemma a once over, snicker, and leave.

"Please", Matteo says, his voice deep. He motions to a now empty leather chair. Gemma sits down, slightly uncomfortable with the entirety of it all. Everything was just so grandiose and she wasn't used to it.

"I'll get you something to drink, red wine. This particular one is good", he says, reaching for the bottle.

"I hate wine", Gemma blurted. She knew this man was dangerous and yet she didn't care. Either she was stupid or careless. It didn't matter who she spoke to, she was always unapologetically herself.

"Okay", he answered", I can make a mixed drink as well".

"I'll have the scotch your drinking", Gemma says firmly, nodding towards his glass.

Matteo is taken aback by this woman's bluntness. He doesn't know whether to be impressed or disrespected. He smirks and pours a fresh glass. He hands it to Gemma who takes a sip and smiles.

"So, what do you want"?, she demands.

"Do you talk to everyone that way?", he replies.

"I'm just trying to figure out what you want from me", she digs.

Matteo pauses for a second and reads his situation. Women are constantly fawning over him and would give anything to be noticed. It's easy for him to get what he wants. He showers them with whatever their heart desires: flowers, jewelry, fancy dinners; all of this to get them into bed because money wasn't a factor and he could have whoever he wanted. But here this woman is, annoyed and wanting answers. This encounter is new to Matteo and for the first time, he doesn't have anything to say.

"I-" he starts.

"Stop sending me flowers", Gemma spurts out.

"I assumed you didn't like roses since you dumped them in the trash, so I sent other kinds to suit our taste", Matteo defended himself.

"I don't like flowers, they're a waste of money and they die- ARE YOU SPYING ON ME!?", she shouts.

Matteo is now confused. What woman doesn't like flowers? He brought this woman here to ask her on a date. The confusion grows into annoyance and then slight anger. He always gets what he wants, he owns this city. Who does his woman think she is coming into his home and talking to him the way she does, especially after the kind gestures.

"I have eyes all over the city, don't take it personal", he says coolly. "If you don't like the flowers, then why are you here?" Matteo thought he had her cornered. He smirks to himself, awaiting an answer.

She contemplates on his question. Why was she there? If she really wanted nothing to do with him, she could've just told his guards. But here she was, going out of her way to come to where he was. Did a part of her want to see Matteo? Gemma quickly shakes the feeling off and notices the cocky tone in his voice. This realization only fuels her crassness, unleashing a tirade. "I came here for answers, wondering what kind of psycho sends flowers one after the other. Can't you take a hint? If I'm throwing them in the trash, I don't like them"!, she shouts. Gemma knocks back the remainder of her scotch and gets up.

"Can I go now?"

Matteo is wide eyed and no longer interested in taking this brash woman anywhere. He motions toward the guard who opens the door. Gemma begins to leave but not before looking back at her shoulder.

"Glenlivet, their scotch is better".