Chapter 7 #2
I grabbed the phone and clicked on the notification. I prepared myself for the worst, to see headlines about Luca’s latest fling. There’d been nothing yet, but that didn’t ease the knot of anxiety.
Extra dates added for Rude Awakenings: Caffeine Daydreams’ stadium tour! Tickets go on sale at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.
I tapped the sides of my phone. So far, I’d resisted the urge to buy a ticket. To go and see Luca in the place where he thrived the most would only make my obsession with him worse.
No. I couldn’t do it. It was too risky. It was bad enough that I caved every night.
I’d go to bed, determined not to think about him.
Then before I knew it, it was three a.m., and I was scrolling through social media, drinking up videos and photos of him like a man dying of thirst. And I hated it because not one of them was of him.
The big smiles he gave his fans weren’t anything like the ones he’d given me.
When he played up to the crowd, rolling his hips and peeking suggestively from under his eyelashes, it was wrong. I could see it for the act it was.
None of these videos compared to the Luca I’d met in the lift.
I finished my beer, staring unseeing at the drama unfolding on the television. What was I doing with my life?
All those hours wasted thinking about a man who probably didn’t remember my name.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
Becky tilted her head to the side, making her dark hair fall like a curtain over her face. “Which part do you need me to repeat?”
“Let’s try all of it.” I shook my head, trying to clear the buzzing sound filling my ears. “There’s no way I heard you correctly.”
“I think you did,” Becky said mildly, amusement dancing on her brightly painted lips. “Caffeine Daydreams have agreed to let a journalist profile them while on tour. We’ve decided to send you.”
“Why me?” I blurted.
Becky rocked back in her chair, scrutinising me with a piercing gaze.
“Why aren’t you jumping at this? This is the sort of opportunity most journalists at your level would kill for.
It’ll put your name on the map, opening all sorts of doors for you.
We aren’t talking a single article here.
This will be an in-depth look at every aspect of their life on tour.
Your work will have top billing in not one but six of our editions.
Is this really the sort of thing you want to turn down? ”
Fuck. I couldn’t tell her the truth—that the thought of being in the same space as Luca for a sustained time period made me want to dance and vomit simultaneously.
Fortunately, I had years of experience when it came to schooling my emotions.
“That’s what I don’t understand though. Surely an opportunity like this would be better suited for a more senior staff member?
I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes.”
“Are you saying you can’t handle this?”
I winced internally. The last thing I wanted was Becky thinking I wasn’t capable of something like this. Because let’s be real, if it was any other band on Earth, I would already be out the door and planning the focus of the first piece. “No, of course I can.”
“Excellent,” she said with a brisk nod. “You’ve got a meeting scheduled with the band and their management in London first thing tomorrow morning. You can take the rest of the day off to get yourself organised. The itinerary has been emailed to you. You’ll need to prepare to be away for six weeks.”
“Six weeks,” I echoed numbly.
“Yes.” Becky’s attention had been caught by something on her computer. “One article a week.”
“Wait,” I blurted as another argument occurred to me. “You need to send someone else. I’ve…met Luca before. Trust me, he won’t want me there.”
“That’s not possible.” Becky frowned at her screen, her fingers tapping at the keyboard. “They requested you specifically.”
It was a struggle to keep the shock off my face. Luca had asked…for me? Why? After the way we’d left things, I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to be trapped with me for six weeks. “Are you sure?”
Becky turned her attention away from the computer with a sigh. Folding her hands on her desk, she studied me seriously. “They didn’t just request you, Ollie. It’s part of the deal. If you aren’t the one I send, we lose the contract. It’s you or no one, I’m afraid.”
My stomach flipped. “So that’s the reason why you’ve chosen me. Not because you think I’m the best person for the job.”
“Not necessarily.” Becky pursed her lips. “Your name is actually one that would’ve been put forward for consideration. Your work speaks for itself, and I would’ve championed you being one of the front runners.”
“But I wouldn’t have been the one you chose,” I surmised.
“No.” She gave a tight smile. “And that’s not a reflection on your ability to do this—and do it well. But you were right when you said this type of opportunity would normally go to a more senior staff member…”
“Not one who’s only been here five months,” I finished for her. “Yeah, that would make more sense.”
“Ultimately, I can’t force you to go. But if you don’t, we lose the whole deal. Caffeine Daydreams has always been…wary around the media. You’d be granted a level of access to them that’s totally unprecedented.”
Suddenly the reasoning for why Luca wanted me there made perfect sense. I’d seen him through a panic attack, fucked around with him, and listened to him.
And once I stepped out of that lift, I hadn’t said a word. Sure, I had an NDA, but people broke those all the time.
Luca wanted me because he could trust me to be professional. To respect his limits with what could and couldn’t be published.
Relief warred with disappointment. Of course he wasn’t insisting I go just for the chance to see me again. Other than deciding I was the one for this job, he probably hadn’t given me or what happened that day a second thought.
Could I really do it though? It felt like I’d be opening myself up to a world of pain. My obsession with Luca wouldn’t be cured by spending time in his company.
But maybe…maybe if I drew strict boundaries, I could make it work. After all, I’d be there in a professional capacity. So long as I thought of Luca as the subject of a story, and nothing more, there wouldn’t be an issue.
That was what Luca would be expecting anyway. He’d reached out to me in a professional capacity, not a personal one.
I’d be the most professional damned journalist he’d ever met.
“Ollie?” Becky’s voice cut through my thoughts, making me realise I’d been sitting in silence. “Will you do it?”
I had to. I couldn’t fuck it up for the company.
That was why I said yes before practically running from her office. I didn’t stop until I hit the toilets, splashing water on my face and trying to get my shaking hands under control.
That’s the reason, I told myself sternly. Water dripped from my pale skin as my reflection stared back at me wide-eyed. Not because you want to see Luca.
If I repeated it often enough, maybe I’d start to believe it.
Leaving the toilets, I ran smack-bang into Riley. Before I met him, I thought accountants were quiet and restrained folk.
Riley proved that stereotype wrong on our very first social. He’d taken to the stage to bellow out “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen and followed that up by leading the conga line.
I didn’t know what expression I wore, but whatever it was had my new friend steering me into an empty meeting room. “What’s happened?”
I smoothed down a wrinkle in my shirt, trying to calm myself. “I’m going on tour with a band. Going to be doing a full profile with six articles.”
Riley’s face lit up, smiling so big that his cheeks lifted his wide-rimmed glasses slightly. “Ollie Winters! Why don’t you look happier? That’s fantastic news! Which band?”
I took a deep breath. “Caffeine Daydreams.”
Riley’s smile fell away, his blue eyes widening. “Shit.”
“Exactly.”
Riley ran a hand through his short dark hair. Being gay, he was someone I’d gone to for advice while coming to terms with my sexuality. It had taken many lunches, many nights out, and a lot of Dutch courage before I finally felt comfortable enough to open up to Riley.
Even though I’d never told Riley what happened with Luca in that lift, I hadn’t managed to hide the fact I had a massive crush on him. “How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know,” I groaned. “What if I see him and can’t act like a professional? Or, even worse, what if he pretends he doesn’t know me?”
“Or,” Riley countered, “what if everything goes smoothly and your career skyrockets? Let’s be real, Ollie. Junior journalists never get opportunities like this. Can you really afford to turn it down?”
“No.” It was the same conclusion I’d come to while in the toilets. “But I’m still…freaked out.”
He squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. “It would be weird if you weren’t. But I have a feeling this tour will change your life in the best possible ways.”