Luca
I don’t pay attention to gossip.
I don’t partake in drama.
I don’t care what anyone says or thinks about me or my life.
But as I walk through the office, I feel everyone’s eyes on me. I hear the subtle whispers filling the air like steam. And I’m not stupid. I know everyone is talking about me. They know I went on a date. They know I’ve been seeing one person. And if I had to guess, they know I was out of town.
“For people who are supposed to be figuring out how to get single men down on one knee, I don’t see a lot of work going on,” I snap. The whispering quiets and keyboards start clicking.
I reach the elevator at the same time as one of my employees. Darren, from logistics I think, and while he was technically here first, he takes a step back when the door opens.
“I’ll catch the next one,” he says.
Smart man. I have made one thing apparent since I walked in today.
I’m not in the mood. I’m not in a bad mood.
Actually, I’m in a fairly decent mood. Last night was enjoyable.
Delicious too. And I’m not talking about the food.
But I am not about to talk to anyone else about it.
Other than Matt. Matt is about to get an earful.
“Well, look who’s tardy,” he grins as I walk into his office and close the door. “Word on the street is you went out of town.”
“The street?” I ask.
“The office,” he says.
“People need to mind their own fucking business,” I snap.
“Kind of hard when the man who is always an hour early shows up two hours late,” he says.
“You forget I own the place. I can’t be late,” I say.
“And you forget that these people keep a close eye on your every move,” he points out.
“Again. None of their business. I had errands to run before I came in today,” I state.
“You know, for someone who came into my office like he was on a mission, I find it interesting that I’m the one having to pull information out of you.”
“We went to Salem,” I say.
“For a date?” he asks.
“The roads were shit, and we got rerouted into BFE, and that’s where she wanted to go. So we went,” I state.
“Nice,” he grins.
“We went to dinner. We talked. A lot. It started to rain, and we decided to get a room,” I say as I sit down.
“Because the date went that well?” he asks.
“Because the weather was that bad,” I answer.
“Right. So nothing happened,” he nods. I’m silent for a beat and Matt’s smirk returns.
“We didn’t fuck. But I did make her come,” I say.
“Well, that sounds like a lovely fourth date,” he says. “So what’s on the calendar for number five?” he asks, clearly loving all of this. But he’s the only one. Because it’s gotten messy. And I hate messy.
“None of this was supposed to happen,” I say. “I swiped right because she was attractive and didn’t seem like a complete idiot.”
“You’re not a fan of sleeping with dumb women, we all know this,” he says.
“I need substance. She had it. So I took her out. Then we figured out who she is…”
“And that she had a motive,” he says.
“And that was unacceptable too,” I say, getting up from the chair. I can’t sit. I need to pace. My nerves are a frenzy of loose live wires, and I can’t hold still. “So I was going to take her out a couple more times and shut her plot to fuck me over down. But it hasn’t really played out that way.”
“Because you like her,” he says, and I jerk my attention over to him.
“What? No! Are you listening to literally anything I am saying?” I snap.
“Oh, I’m listening to all of it. The words you’re saying. The words you aren’t saying. The fact that you’re sweating in your suit right now. I think this is more complicated than you expected because it’s not just a game anymore.”
“What are you suggesting?” I ask with a warning in my voice. But Matt has never been good at reading my warning signs. That, or he doesn’t give a shit. Probably the latter.
“You haven’t been sleeping with her,” he says.
“Because that would prove her point,” I say.
“Only if you slept with her and didn’t ask her out again. But you keep asking her out,” he notes.
“To string her along,” I say. “And prove that I’m not who she thinks I am.”
“Who are you trying to prove it to?” he asks.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I shout, then realize I need to pull it together here. The last thing I need is for the leeches out there to have more to whisper about.
“Are you trying to prove to her that you’re not a heartless player? Or are you trying to prove to yourself that you don’t have feelings for a girl who might not be out to get you after all?”
“You’re out of line,” I snap.
“And you’re in over your head,” he smirks.
After that, I have nothing more to say. And I definitely don’t feel like listening to any more of Matt’s thoughts.
“I need to get to work,” I say, walking out. Within seconds I can hear the whispers again, and I grit my teeth. I need to get out of here period.
I march out of the office, making a point of ignoring everyone I pass. I know they’re watching. And once I leave the building, I know they’ll be talking. But I don’t care right now. I need air.
I step outside and breathe in the city. Despite the traffic and the sun and the chaos that is inner-city Boston, it’s still better than being in the office right now.
I wipe my hand down my face and decide to hit up a coffee shop down the street. Maybe caffeine will help. I doubt it, but maybe.
Luckily JackAss Coffee is past its initial morning rush, and I don’t have to wait in line or worry about a crowd. This place gets jam-packed in the early morning, and I usually opt for a mobile order to make the secretary grab it for me.
As soon as my Americano is ready, I grab it and walk over to the sidebar to doctor it up with a little cream. I even add one packet of raw sugar. I’m not a big sweets guy, but I feel like I need it today. I feel off, and that’s not normal for me.
After using a stirring stick to mix it up, I replace the lid. But before I can take my first therapeutic sip, I hear my name from behind me.
“Luca?”
It’s a female voice, soft and quiet. And while it is faintly familiar, I can’t quite put a face with it. Until I turn around.
“Luca, hi. I thought that was you,” she says, and I just blink. So much for not running into anyone. “Sadie,” she says, reminding me of her name.
“I know,” I say.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Busy,” I tell her, looking at my watch to press the point.
“Right. I’m sure. Running the world’s most successful dating app and all. How is that going by the way?” she asks.
And we are really doing this right now.
“Five hundred million strong,” I say. Am I actually making small talk with her? Problematically, I don’t want to come off as a complete ass because if I do, we all know who she’s going to report back to.
“Yes. And the messaging app. Real Talk?” she goes on.
“Yes. You’re familiar?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.
“I use it!” she says. “I’m back in the dating scene,” she says, fluttering her lashes and flicking her hair over her shoulder.
“Back in it? Nasty break-up recently?” I ask. Not that I care.
“You’re funny,” she says with a smile that says otherwise. “You’ve always been funny.”
Have I?
Alright. I did my due diligence. It’s time to cut this off.
“Listen, Sadie, I have to get back to the office–”
“I heard you’re seeing someone.”
There it is. I lock my eyes on hers in an attempt to peel back enough layers to figure out what she’s up to. It’s difficult with all the makeup she’s wearing, but I know there’s something going on under there.
So I tread very carefully. Like a tip-toe through the tulips. Tulips peppered with landmines.
“I’ve been dating, yes,” I say.
“Right…” she says. I don’t know if she knows that I know.
What has my life become?
“Is it getting serious?” she presses.
I think about the direction my answer to that question might go. Obviously, whatever I say will get back to Olivia. So, I respond accordingly.
“I’m not seeing anyone else if that’s what you’re asking.”
There. That feels like a safe, honest answer. Did I say I was in love? No. Did I say it was serious? Not exactly. But I also safe-guarded myself from looking like a fuckboy, which I know she’s trying to peg me with.
Whether or not Olivia is up to anything, her friend is nuts. Plain and simple.
“Interesting. So you’ll be taking her on the retreat then,” she says, and my eyes narrow.
“Retreat?”
“The trip to Miami,” she says, and I suddenly remember what she’s referring to. The annual trip to Florida, where we meet up with sister companies, discuss our growth, and party for the rest of the weekend.
“Right,” I nod. “And yes. I am taking her with me. But she doesn’t know yet. I wanted to surprise her.”
Something flashes in her eyes behind the smile that I now recognize as fake. “A surprise. How sweet. I’m sure Li–she–will love that.”
I have to bite back a smirk. She almost blew her cover.
Then, because I have no reason to play this game any longer, I leave her with one more statement. The rules are changing, and I’m calling the shots.
“Yes. I think Olivia will be very excited,” I say. And with that, I walk off, wishing it wouldn’t be petty to look back at her reaction.