Chapter 22 - Luca
Offices are meant for business, responsibility, and seriousness.
At least that was true before Emma Green walked in and flipped my whole damn life upside down.
Ever since what happened at my place on New Year’s Day, something shifted between us.
The tension changed—morphed into something else—and now I let myself look at her a little longer.
I smile when she catches me staring from across my desk, and she gives me that blinding, heart-stopping smile in return that leaves me brain-dead for hours.
We haven’t told anyone what’s going on between us—not that she’s ready to call it anything—but I have a feeling some people are starting to catch on.
Like Brenda, for example.
Brenda… the most efficient and annoying assistant I’ve ever had.
Ever since she caught me flirting with Emma one too many times in the hallway, her whole vibe changed. Not so submissive anymore. Not so scared.
Now? She’s snappy. Defiant.
“Can you repeat the question?” That’s me these days, zoning out in meetings, which I hate. I’m supposed to be the guy in control—remember?
Right now, I’m in the Gaudí room with investors for a new high-end condo development on Collins Ave, and I’m half-listening to the conversation while watching Emma talk to Sam by the kitchen door. If I didn’t know Sam was hopelessly in love with Amanda, I’d probably be grinding my damn teeth.
In front of me are four investors. All long-time clients who trust us with projects like this.
Well, all of them except Mrs. Brown—or Miss, as she likes to correct me.
A widow who inherited her fortune and is looking to invest it in our firm. For a woman in her fifties, she’s aging like fine wine—clearly takes care of herself.
She keeps smiling at me every time our eyes meet, not realizing Emma is standing just behind her—and that I’m sitting in this exact spot because of that.
“You went with my construction firm suggestion in the end?” she asks.
“Yes. My team did a market analysis, and it turns out they’re one of the best in Florida. Of course, your recommendation played a part.”
“That’s great to hear. They’ve never let me down, Luca.”
She always uses my first name, while I stick to formalities and a polite distance.
It’s not personal. It’s just who I am.
I check the time on my phone and give the room one last scan. “If there are no more questions, I’d say we can wrap this up. From now on, we’ll handle progress updates via email—there’s no need to keep making the trip in.”
They all nod in agreement.
“Excellent.” I rise from my seat and button my jacket. “I have another meeting I can’t miss.”
“Luca!” Miss Brown stops me just as I’m opening the door.
She hurries over with a determined click of heels.
“I was wondering if you had time this afternoon? I’ve still got a few unanswered questions.
” She reaches up and plucks a piece of lint off my lapel.
Pretty sure it wasn’t there. I don’t do lint.
“Unfortunately, that’s impossible. My schedule’s packed today.”
“Well, what about dinner then?”
Shit.
“Sure. I’ll have Brenda set something up for later this week.”
A straight-up lie, smooth as silk.
She looks pleased and heads off to gather her things like everyone else.
On my way out, I run into Brenda walking the investors to the elevators.
“Let them leave on their own,” I tell her. “Miss Brown’s being persistent again, and if she asks about dinner, just say you need to check my schedule first.”
“Yes, Mr. Walker,” she snaps, then turns on her heel.
I make my way toward my favorite room in the whole damn building now—Emma’s office. Or technically, the Great Ideas department. But really, it’s hers.
When I walk in, the whole team is already waiting.
Today’s the big presentation: the official campaign video and ad strategy.
Emma’s standing by her desk, fidgeting with her fingers the way she always does when she’s nervous.
“Sorry for the delay,” I say as I slide into the only open seat in the room—my usual one, when I want to observe without hovering.
“No problem,” she says in that sweet, soft voice of hers. “It’s just a shame we don’t have the big screen. I asked Brenda if we could switch rooms, but she said it was impossible.”
I frown as I adjust my black tie and unbutton my suit jacket.
Over my shoulder, I can see Brenda pretending to work behind her desk. “Brenda!”
The whole room jumps.
She comes running. “Yes, Mr. Walker?”
“Is the Gaudí room occupied?”
She scrambles for her tablet, pretending to check the calendar. “Uhh…”
“Yes or no?” I press, voice way less pleasant than usual.
“No, sir.”
“But you told me—” Emma starts, and I raise a hand, cutting her off.
I’ll handle Brenda. I’m done with this little game. “Were the afternoon meetings canceled?”
“There… weren’t any scheduled.”
I can practically feel Emma’s frustration radiating beside me. The whole team’s giving Brenda disapproving looks, but that’s not enough for me. I like pressure.
“So why’d you tell Miss Green the room was booked?”
She glances at Emma, venom in her eyes. “Must’ve been a misunderstanding.” She forces a tight smile.
“Well then,” I say, standing, “let’s move.”
Everyone starts grabbing their laptops. I leave last, Emma walking just ahead of me.
“Thanks,” she whispers as she passes.
My hand brushes down her back… and lands square on her ass. “Everything’s got a price, Miss Green.”
She bites her lip but keeps walking like a woman on a mission.
God, does she even know how hot she is when she’s like this?
I take my usual seat at the head of the conference table—where the boss is supposed to sit. Sam is helping Emma hook up the cables on the other end of the room, and the whole team is in place.
“Alright, Luca,” Emma begins. “This project’s finally done. We’re really proud of the result and hope you are too.” She grabs a remote and hits play.
The first thing on the screen is a slow-motion shot of me walking through the office. Black custom suit. Crisp lines. Sharp focus. Then Brenda shows up on camera, showing me something on her tablet. I nod, pointing at the screen. It cuts to a meeting with the finance team.
Then a deep male voice starts narrating our stats—how many properties we’ve sold, how long we’ve been in business, our growth year after year.
Then my name is spoken.
Cue a new scene: me walking my dog Jack along the beach, cooking in my kitchen, sitting in my office, taking calls, and typing away.
It’s polished. Grounded. Professional, but still warm. Approachable.It’s who I used to be. The guy I was when I thought I’d marry Emma Green.
Then I lost her, and I became… this. But she captured him. Somehow, she still sees that version of me. And I’m not going to lie—it's messing with my head.
“Mr. Walker,” Sam says hesitantly. “If there’s anything you don’t like, we can make changes.”
I must have the most unreadable poker face, because Emma starts cracking her knuckles. One by one.
She doesn’t stop until both hands are done.
“It’s perfect, Sam,” I finally say, leaning my forearms on the table. “I’m blown away. That’s all.”
Emma’s shoulders relax. She shares a smile with Sam.
“We knew the video would be the hardest part,” he says.
“You managed to create the complete opposite of who people think I am,” I say, leaning back in my chair. A half-smile tugs at my lips. Pretty sure that’s the first time they’ve ever seen me do that.
Everyone laughs, especially Karen, who always laughs too loudly.
“We wanted Property Group to feel more accessible,” Sam adds. “Not so stiff.”
“Well, mission accomplished. Congratulations,” I say, looking around the room… until my eyes land on Emma.
She’s smiling, relieved. She killed it.
“Great job,” I say.
“Thank you,” she replies softly.
I give her a little wink, and I gotta shut myself up before I say something stupid. Like I love you, for example.
“I say we celebrate!” Sam declares, already on his feet.
Today wasn’t just the big reveal—it’s also their last official day here, per the contract.
Which… yeah, kind of sucks. I’ve been dreading it.
“Brenda!” I call over my shoulder. She’s at my side before I finish the word. “Book a table at Sea-spice for tonight.”
Sea-spice is one of the most upscale restaurants downtown.
It’s right on the edge of a marina, surrounded by high-rise glass towers that catch the last light of day.
Our table’s outside for a reason—you get the best view of the sunset here; all those deep colors layered behind the outline of the skyline.
Emma’s sitting to my right, her mouth slightly open as she watches the sky. And honestly, that? That’s all I wanted to see tonight.
Everyone else is caught up in conversation.
I’m at the head of the table, elbow on the armrest, hand under my chin, just watching her take photos with her phone.
I want to ask her if she’s going to paint this sunset.
I want to know what she feels when she sees color this bold in the wild. I want to know all of it.
But all her employees are here, and in an office full of creatives, gossip moves fast.
“Mr. Walker?” Amanda’s voice pulls me back to the table—and away from her.
“Yes, Amanda?”
“You said you’ve been here a few times, right?”
I sit a little straighter. Suddenly aware that everyone’s looking at me. “That’s right.”
“Any recommendations? We’re kinda lost with the menu.”
I glance around at the Great Ideas team. They look a little uncomfortable; maybe this place is a bit too fancy for a regular weeknight dinner. Truth is, I picked it thinking only about Emma and the sunset I wanted to give her.
“Uh… the lobster in cream sauce is my favorite. But if you want something simpler, the burger’s on the menu too. Heard it’s solid.”
They all go back to their menus, chatting about what to order.
Emma rests her hand on my thigh under the table, her thumb slowly stroking my leg.
My eyes snap to hers.
“Thanks for treating them like this,” she murmurs.
I lace my fingers with hers and give her hand a squeeze. God, I needed that. “You’re welcome,” I say, voice tight.
This kind of intimacy in a room full of people? It’s like an oasis in the damn desert.
And I want it to be real. I want to hold her hand in public, kiss the inside of her palm like I used to.
A few minutes later, the food arrives, and everyone dives in.
Sam’s definitely the bridge between their world and mine—dude keeps trying to loop me into their conversation. Karen does too, but I think she just wants my attention more than anything else. By dessert, everyone’s full and finally relaxed.
Emma excuses herself to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I follow suit, pretending I’ve got a call.
As soon as I’m out of sight, I slip my phone into my jacket and head for her.
I catch her just as she’s stepping out of the restroom—and without thinking, I kiss her. Hard.
God, I needed that. I needed her.
“Come home with me tonight,” I whisper against her neck as I trail kisses along her skin.
“It’s Wednesday, Luca. We have work tomorrow.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“So?”
“So I have to be at Great Ideas in the morning. Plus, I’ve got a meeting with Chad first thing.”
I stop kissing her and lock eyes with her. Her lids are heavy, her breath short. Lust is written all over her face. “I’ll drive you to work myself. But I need you in my bed tonight, lamb.”
She’s already convinced—I can see it in the way she bites back her smile. I grin and kiss her again.
“Get back to the table before I lose my damn mind. I’ll be there in a few. Told them I had a call.”
“So bossy…”
“Go.”
She laughs, carefree and reckless, and walks away.
I stay frozen in place, eyes trailing her hips and that ridiculous sway she does when she walks.
Yeah…
I need a minute.