Page 31 of Enzo

“Miss Turlington couldn't come and you're standing in for her.”

I stare at him dumbfounded, shock making me lower my hand and my mask.

“Oh my days,” I whisper, deathly quiet. “You must be … Luca Valizar.”

“Yes.”

I hold out my hand. “I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr. Valizar.” I pause, and hope that I haven’t made a bad impression on him. “I probably shouldn't have asked if you work here.”

“You weren’t to know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You don't sound sorry.”

“I'm not too sorry.”

I get the feeling I've amused him.

He starts walking. He's heading toward the doors, so I fall into step beside him.

“Miss T was upset that she couldn't come. She wanted to.”

“I know.”

“She talks about you, you know.”

He stops and turns to me. “What does she say?”

I think back to our conversation where she mentioned him. “Not much, actually. She's weirdly protective of you.”

His gaze settles on me through the mask.

“She says you're a good man.”

Something about him changes so subtly I might have imagined it.

“Miss Turlington has always been generous in her assessment of me,” he says.

“I don't think Miss T is particularly generous when she doesn't mean something.”

That earns me another long look, before he continues walking and I rush to keep up with him.

“Are you enjoying your evening?” he asks.

Another man who asks questions. Nice questions.

“I'm loving it, thanks. The palace is incredible. The food is super yummy. I’ve eaten about twelve different things tonight without knowing what any of them were.”

“And the ball?”

He senses my hesitation. How I know this, I don't know—because his mask gives nothing of him away. Whereas with my friend—the sad, Mysterious man who has let me down—his reaction is one I can gauge, a little.

“You can be honest,” he says.

“I'm not sure you should say that to me.”

“Try me.”