Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Monday was a complete clusterfuck.
No, a goatfuck.
Wait…which was worse? Clusterfuck or goatfuck? Or was FUBAR the worst?
It didn’t matter what I called it—the day had been insane.
My boss was a pain in the ass at the best of times, but lately he’d been worse than usual.
He would screw up documents and spreadsheets and expect me to fix it for him when I had my own work to do.
His incompetence seemed to get progressively worse the longer I worked for him.
Something I was sure he did intentionally to get out of doing any work at all.
It was time to make a change. I just wasn’t sure which direction to go.
Thank God I was going out for happy hour cocktails with Davide tonight.
I’d met him at Lucy’s first showing. He owned the gallery featuring her work, and we’d hit it off.
As my friends left their single status behind, Davide and I spent more time together, commiserating over our work and our dating misadventures.
We tried to get together for drinks or dinner at least one Monday a month. Sometimes more. There were weeks that knowing I was meeting Davide was the only reason I made it through my Monday without giving up on life and moving into a cave to become a hermit.
The first thing I did when I walked into the restaurant was head to the bar.
It was nearly six, and the tables were filling up, but the stools at the bar were mostly empty.
Since this Latin American restaurant was within walking distance of my apartment, I fully intended to get tipsy.
Maybe sloshed. But not hammered because I didn’t need to be hung over on a Tuesday.
I perched my ass on a barstool and hung my purse from the hook beneath the bar.
When Nick, the bartender, turned my way with a warm smile, he asked, “Do you want your usual?”
I wasn’t sure if it was brilliant or sad that the bartender saw me often enough to know what I preferred to drink.
I nodded since my usual was a mojito. I really wanted to slam a shot of tequila first, but tequila reminded me of Eli…
no, he was Elijah, and every time he crossed my mind since the wedding, my chest ached.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You all alone, sweet thing?”
I rolled my eyes at the deep voice and turned on my stool to face Davide. “Seriously? You couldn’t come up with a better line?”
He shrugged, his black shirt shiny and just tight enough to show off the bulge of his biceps and swells of his pecs. He was only an inch or two taller than me, but he spent an hour a day at the gym, and it showed. He was built like a Greek god.
“You look like the porno version of an art dealer or businessman,” I joked.
He stared at me for a moment, his expression stony, and then we both started laughing. Still smiling, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
“Just the look I was going for,” he joked as he sat next to me.
Nick arrived then with my mojito and smiled at Davide, “Hey! You want your usual, too?”
Davide shook his head. “I’ll have what she’s having, plus a shot of tequila.”
Surprised by the way his thoughts echoed mine, I turned my head toward him as Nick walked away to make his drink. “A shot of tequila? Did you have a bad day?”
“You have no idea,” he sighed.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I can’t keep running the gallery alone anymore. There just aren’t enough hours in the day, and I’m neglecting things I don’t need to be neglecting. Plus, I haven’t worked on a sculpture in months because I’ve been so busy.”
Davide owned an art gallery because art was his passion. He loved to surround himself with it and create it. His sculptures were gorgeous, but he rarely had showings. While he loved showcasing other artists, it was difficult for him to put himself out there.
“It sounds like a problem, but not necessarily a bad one,” I murmured.
“It is, but it isn’t,” Davide agreed. “Being this busy means money is rolling in, which is amazing…but after what happened with Clark, I’m afraid to hire someone.”
Clark was Davide’s last assistant, and he’d been a real twatwaffle.
He’d started out pilfering odds and ends from the gallery like pens and toilet paper, which Davide hadn’t noticed at first because he assumed Clark hadn’t ordered enough toilet paper or their pens were walking off with clients or artists.
It wasn’t until Clark started taking small pieces of art that Davide realized what was happening.
Getting the art back had been a nightmare.
Finally, Davide had given Clark an ultimatum—bring the pieces back, or he was going to call the cops and press charges.
He also pointed out that the value of the art taken would take the crime from a misdemeanor to a felony.
That had been enough to convince Clark to return the items he’d stolen.
“I wish I could just hire you,” he complained as Nick set the shot and the mojito in front of him. “Thanks, Nick.”
My back straightened at his words, a zing of electricity zipping up my spine. It was a sign. It had to be. Maybe this was the change I needed. “You’d want to hire me?” I asked.
Davide slammed the shot back, hissing out a breath as he set the shot glass down. “Absolutely,” he answered, turning toward me. “You’re smart, organized, and I know you won’t steal from me. Hell, you’d probably make me even more money because you would be so on top of everything.”
When he saw the way I was looking at him, he paused. “Would you actually be interested in the job?” His tone was incredulous.
“I would. If we could work out a way to make sure I didn’t lose health insurance and you could match my salary, I definitely would.”
“What’s your salary?”
I named the exact amount I made before taxes and insurance came out and what I made biweekly after those deductions.
He cocked his head, and his eyes took on a faraway look as he contemplated the numbers.
“I think I could pull that off. But could you help me with the health insurance thing? Now that I can finally afford it, I really need it. Depending on how much it costs, I might be able to cover it as part of your salary.”
I nodded.
“I have to double check,” he said. “Are you sure-sure? Like, you’re seriously interested?”
“I am,” I answered with another nod. “Because as bad as your Monday was, mine was probably just as horrible. My boss is a huge pain in my ass. He screws everything up and I have to fix it. Then, I have to do his work on top of my own and he takes credit for it all. And I definitely don’t get paid what he does. ”
“He’s still pulling that shit?”
“Yep,” I answered, popping the “P”. I lifted my mojito and took a deep drink.
“It’s settled, then. We’ll have our drinks, go back to your place, and hammer out the details.”
I lowered my glass to study him. “That’s not some euphemism for you expecting sexual favors in return for a job, is it?”
A muffled laugh came immediately after my question, but it wasn’t from Davide.
We both turned to find Nick standing on the other side of the bar trying, and failing to stifle his amusement.
His hazel eyes gleamed as he grinned at us, putting two more drinks in front of us.
Yes, good ole’ Nick knew exactly how we were.
“And here I thought you two were just friends.”
If my day hadn’t been such shit, I would have blushed at the fact that he heard me. At that moment, I couldn’t find it in me to care that he’d heard.
“She’s not my type,” Davide retorted. He glanced pointedly at Nick’s golden hair. “I prefer blondes.”
The bartender smirked. He and Davide flirted like this every time we came in, but they never went beyond that. It was a shame, too. Nick was a nice guy. Inwardly I winced at the thought and understood why my friend didn’t go there.
Nice guys were great and usually excellent at relationships, but sometimes you just wanted a man to fuck you like he owned you.
I knew from the readers and book groups I followed on social media that a lot of other women wanted a golden retriever in the streets and a Dom in the sheets, but I’d yet to meet a man like that.
Elijah definitely had Dom energy, but he was too intense for golden retriever status.
It didn’t matter anyway because nothing was going to happen with him.
Maybe I should date more. Or join a kink site. But I wasn’t really that kinky. What I really wanted was a man to boss me around a little in the bedroom but nothing too extreme. Maybe a little spanking, too.
I shivered at the memory of a firm hand smacking my bare ass the night of Lucy’s wedding. Yeah, if the right man was doing it, I could be into it.
“Hellooo.”
I blinked and focused on Davide. Nick had wandered off to the other end of the bar, leaving us alone again.
“Was it a pleasant trip?” he asked, picking up his mojito.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Want to tell me about it?”
I shook my head and sucked back the last two swallows of my first drink before reaching for my second. “Not right now. Maybe in a few weeks. It’s still a little too—” I paused, trying to think of the right word. “Raw.”
“Everything okay?” Davide asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, forcing a small smile to curve my mouth as I met his probing gaze. “Just figuring some stuff out.”
Though we hadn’t been hanging out together long, Davide already understood me well enough to know that I would need some time to sort through my feelings internally before I discussed them with anyone else.
“Well, if you don’t need my wisdom, let’s drink up and get something to eat. I was serious when I said I wanted to come over tonight. Once we have some numbers crunched, I’ll know for sure if I can afford you.”
Just as Davide finished his statement, Nick approached, overhearing his words. “I’m guessing you’re ready to order some food, then?” he asked.
“We’ll have the ceviche and the empanada platter,” Davide answered.
He didn’t bother to ask me what I wanted, which made me roll my eyes, but I didn’t argue. Even if I’d taken the time to look at the menu, I always ended up ordering the same thing—which was exactly what Davide told Nick to bring us.
“It’ll be right out,” Nick said, knocking on the bar before he walked away.
Davide turned to me, opening his mouth to speak, but I beat him to the punch.
“Why haven’t you and Nick ever gone out?” I asked him. “He flirts with you all the time.”
He blinked at me, obviously taken aback by my sudden segue. “Pardon?”
“You heard me,” I replied, committing to the question. I normally didn’t blurt them out like that, but I couldn’t seem to help myself tonight.
Davide drained the rest of his first mojito and picked up the second, staring down into the glass as though it held all his secrets. “Nick’s a really nice guy.”
That’s all he said.
Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “And?”
He released a heavy sigh before he turned his eyes to me. “Nice guys want to settle down, and I’m not sure I’m ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Until I am, it wouldn’t be right to set him up to be hurt.”
That made perfect sense. And was a painful reminder of the thoughts I was trying to avoid because it was eerily similar to my situation with Elijah Lawson. Only, in my situation, I was Nick, and Elijah was in Davide’s role.
“How do you know you’re not ready?” I asked.
When Davide shot me a hard look, I lifted my left hand in a gesture for him to calm down. “I’m not accusing you of anything, D. I’m just trying to understand. Why do you think you’re not ready?”
Davide’s eyes wandered over to the end of the bar where Nick was talking to some other regulars. “Because the idea of giving my all to someone and still fucking it up…of not being happy in the long run…” He sipped his drink. “It terrifies me.”
I nodded at his words because I completely understood what he was saying, only from my own perspective.
I didn’t want to invest my emotions in someone who wasn’t ready and end up hurt, disappointed, and still alone.
While I felt like Davide was missing out, it was good that he was considerate enough to worry that he would hurt Nick.
“You realize that I have the same sort of fears, right?” I finally asked.
“But you want something long term.”
“That’s true, but I didn’t hear you say that you didn’t.
I heard you say that you were scared you’d do everything in your power to make a relationship work and it wouldn’t.
Or that you still wouldn’t be happy. That’s not the same thing as saying you don’t want to be with the same person for the rest of your life. ”
His eyes narrowed on me as he took another sip of his drink. “Are you going to therapize me?”
I snorted. “No, just pointing out that you didn’t say you didn’t want something. Only that you were worried you wouldn’t appreciate it once you had it or you’d mess it up.”
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Davide drawled.
I laughed.
“Can we be done talking about this? I’m hangry, stressed, but also desperately hoping that I’ll finally have a competent, organized professional assistant gallery manager who is also a good friend.”
“Of course we can be done with the subject.” I paused. “For now.”
“Ugh.” It was Davide’s turn to roll his eyes, which made me laugh again. “I changed my mind. You’re too much of a pain in the ass to work for me.”
“Too late. I’m already going to do everything in my power to make sure it happens.”
And I would. The idea of continuing to work for my current boss made me want to pour a bottle of tequila over my head and set my hair on fire. It would probably be less painful.
“To making it work,” he said, lifting his glass toward me.
I tapped the side of my high ball glass gently against his. “To making it work. And not just when it comes to actually working.”
He sighed, knowing that I was referring to the conversation we were supposed to be abandoning. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“I said I would. For now. When a new day dawns—who knows?”
“Oh, my God. I need better friends.”