C3 CHAPTER 2

“Five weeks, Ginevra Alvera. Five! And not one text.” Her voice disrupts my focus on the document I was reading.

I watch as Elettra Marchetti—my best friend of ten years—makes her way over to the sofa under the painting she has made into her personal spot over the years of visiting my father in his office whenever I was around.

We both basically grew up in this office, working on ourselves, keeping our personal dreams as just that—dreams.

As the girl that had turned into the beautiful woman in front of me stares me down, I feel my lips lift into a wide grin. I hadn’t been able to smile much until she came into my life.

“Elle.” I say as a greeting.

Her face mirrors mine, but she refuses to stand and come over to me so I just sit back in slight confusion.

There’s a pause as she regards me, that smile never leaving her red-tinted lips and I hold my breath.

“That chair suits you so damn well, amore mio.” There was a glint akin to pride in her eyes and I almost felt like crying at that.

My love.

Almost. Instead I roll my eyes and stand, taking my time to walk over to her, the click-clack of my black heels on the white tiles filling the silence as she just watches me with that same look on her face.

She was proud of me. And as much as I’d love to say I didn’t need that kind of validation, her pride in me makes me want to cry like a baby.

So the moment I get to her, I pull her up by her arm and she lets me, she lets me hug her because dammit I’ve missed my best friend so much.

As if hearing my thoughts, she says, “Yes, yes. I missed you too.”

We stay like that for a while, both of us just enjoying the other’s embrace while I allow myself to think for the first time in weeks. To think of my inadequacies and allow them to get off my chest. Just a few seconds is all it takes for this woman to make me feel like the child in me finally got the love she lost too early.

When we let go of each other, Elle takes one good look at me with her beautiful light brown eyes and it’s like she understands. It was always like that with us. She could just tell when it came to me. Ever since I was fourteen years old at a charity event we both found excruciatingly boring. She just had a better way of hiding it than I did at the time.

“I know you haven’t eaten. We’re going to have lunch now.” She states, her hands leaving me to get her bag.

Before I know it, she has both our bags in her hands, basically dragging me to her car and I let her because it’s Elettra Marchetti. How dare I not?

._._._.

“Liv told me that you showed them.” Elle mutters as she settles into her seat opposite me in a restaurant called Il Ristorante—in the Bulgari hotel upside town. A waiter silently placed menus in front of each of us.

The ambiance of the place is luxurious yet understated, with a blend of contemporary elegance and intimate sophistication as if Elle had intended to take me for a romantic dinner but reconsidered and went for a romantic lunch instead. The sleek design was complemented by warm lighting and refined dècor, creating a serene atmosphere perfect for the romance I’m sure Elle wanted to spoil me with today.

“Showed them?” I laugh. “I told them.” I correct.

Elle stares at me with that ‘don’t-shit-with-me’ look. She gets the joke, it’s a lame one, but she gets it.

“Don’t shit with me, Ginne.” She sighs. I was right and that makes me laugh even harder.

When we’ve both calmed down from the laughter—she had joined in at a point—she speaks again. “Liv had also said you’ll most likely be needing a new assistant since she won't be available next week.”

I nod, just a waiter brings over cups of water for us. “Yes, I only managed to get through to HR a few minutes after she told me.” I pause. “I’m still new on the job, you know? I don’t want to be overwhelmed with having to deal with that massive vacancy Liv will leave, it’ll also give her a chance to show whoever is hired the way things work.”

“True, true. I understand that. Would you like some temporary help rather than having to hire someone and go through all that paperwork for just a few days?” She asks, her left eyebrow lifting at the end of the question.

“I see where you’re coming with that, yeah? But I think it will reduce the stress I just know Liv will have to go through once things are fully in motion. Plus I want to have more than one person entirely in my corner.” I explain.

“Have you decided on what you would like to order?” The same waiter that has been attending to us since we walked in asks as he walks up to our table.

Elle smiles her dazzling smile at him and I see him instantly blush. I mean I wasn’t even on the receiving end of that smile and I felt heat warming my cheeks. She’s a very charming woman.

“We’ll just go with the chef’s special.” She responds, picking up both our menus and handing them over to the flushed waiter.

._._._.

“You, Elettra Marchetti, are the ultimate charmer.” I laugh as we make our way out of the restaurant.

Elle had gotten the number of that poor waiter that I’m sure was at least three years younger than her. She wasn’t going to do anything with the number, like the other five hundred she had received over the years, but it was fun—according to her—to try her charm on them and see if she still got it. I’d like to say, Elle still got it.

That thought has me throwing my head back in laughter as we get to the entrance of the restaurant. Elle is laughing as well and it’s another nice moment where we just forget our problems and laugh together, make fools of ourselves.

“E-excuse me.” A voice calls out to us once we exit the restaurant as we wait for a valet to bring around Elle’s car.

We both sober up quickly when we turn around and see the cutest man standing right behind us with one of his hands on the back of his neck, rubbing it in a way I had a feeling immediately that he was nervous.

“Yes?” Elle answers, she never really found it nice when people interrupted moments like these.

He looks at me, his dark eyes meeting mine and for a moment my breath leaves my lungs.

I had an irrational attraction to people’s eyes, this man, his eyes were so dark they looked black from a distance. His face was as expressive as they came but his eyes. God, his eyes. They were like black bottomless pits into his soul and I couldn’t read a thing.

“Could I speak to you for a moment?” He asks, his mannerisms showing he was nervous—hesitant even—but his eyes didn’t shift. It was odd.

And for a woman who was called smart, I didn’t think I was in that moment because before I can think things through well enough, I’m nodding.

“I’ll be over there.” Elle vaguely gestures to another direction but I’m not paying attention to her. Just the man across from me.

His black eyes never shift as he smiles at me while waiting for me patiently.

I might just be a fool because I walk towards him.