Chasing Reality.

25 - Prove it!

Dante gave a piercing look at the three women in front of him. The first and closest one to him, Irene, didn't really have a problem with him except that the people she brought for the interview were just like her; tardy. The second woman clutching a young girl looked like the older– not by much years– version of his secretary but she had an obvious air of sophistication with the way she carried herself and the young girl, if he was not mistaken, was blind and shaking, surely it couldn't be because of my order, I was addressing the other red hair. How could she come late for something like this, surely irene must have told her I hate lateness.

Irene knew her boss was not tolerant of tardiness and technically it was her fault for not calling them for timely checkups, she trudged inside the room with fierce determination, "Mr Florentino it's not their fault, you know how Florence can be."

"I indeed do," Dante threw his gaze back at his secretary, "that's why I thought you would inform them to be at least thirty minutes early."

Irene returned Dante's gaze with an adamant stare, "but sir you have to understand. It's not easy to move a–" 

"Excuses, excuses!" Dante mumbled, turning around he counted his steps to where the canvasses were propped up, placing a delicate hand on one of the paintings, he thought, if not for the painting he would have really sent them out the door but he simply needed to know. "I don't tolerate excuses–"

"Mr Florentino, if I may intrude, you see, it's not Irene's fault really. It's mine, and I take full responsibility for it." Natasha, who couldn't take the guilt anymore, interrupted.

Dante gave her a lazy once over which mad Natasha shudder, and asked, "And who exactly are you?"

Natasha felt a bit timid by the gaze of the man but found her stance again, "I'm Natasha, Natasha Julian. I'm Irene's sister." Said Natasha, extending her hand to Mr Dante, which he took.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Dante being a gentleman lost all hostility from his voice. "The ties with this one,"  Referring to Irene standing by his table, "I had already deduced."

Natasha smiled at his familiarity with her sister, "I assure you, the pleasure is all ours."

"Ours?" Dante cocked a brow, "I'm supposed to be meeting with you, aren't I?" He turned his attention to Irene. "You said I was to be meeting an artist that applied for the Institute, yes?"

"Yes, Mr Florentino, she's here, " Irene answered.

"Isn't that you?"  His hazel eyes scrutinizing Natasha.

Natasha blushed at the apparent wonder of Dante's stare. "No, it's not. Me? Artist? Nope, I'm a nurse. The artist is over there." She gestured to Clary who had been doing her very best to be as small and quiet as possible.

Dante scoffed, then gave an unbelieving sound of amusement, "Please, all of you, take a seat." He gestured to the numerous seats around and walked to his desk.

Following his lead, the women moved closer to his desk; Clary and Natasha took the seats in front of the desk, while Irene sat on an easy chair next to the window.

Dante pretended to be busy while his thoughts rolled over, certainly, the girl sitting in front of him couldn't make those pieces, she couldn't even see. He was finding it very hard to believe."Yes, you were saying?"

Natasha figured out there was no other way to put it, she decided to go straight to the point. "This is Clary, Clarissa Allen." She put a comforting hand on Clary's shoulder, "She's an artist, new to the field. She's the one that's here to meet you today, and if it all goes well – if you think she's teachable– she'll be enrolled here to hone her skill." Natasha glowed, for she knew deep down that all Clary needed was training.