Page 45 of Grumpy Boss of the Year

“They are my family, and I love them.”

“You can love other people.”

“I suppose that’s always a possibility, but it’s never really happened.”

She sighs. “You know what? Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you, even though…”

“Even though what?” I say. “What are you trying to say to me, Lucinda? Please tell me that you’re not going to cross the line here.”

“I’m not crossing any line,” she says. “You know what? You do you, Liam Gallagher.”

“Thank you, I will. Is that all?”

“Call me by 8:00, or I’m flying out tomorrow,” she says and then hangs up.

I hold the phone to my ear for a couple of seconds, take a few deep breaths, and then turn around. Elisabetta is staring at me now, and she looks pissed. She’s no longer lying naked on top of the bed; instead, she’s under the sheets, and she’s shaking.

“Who was that?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” I asked her, feigning ignorance.

“Who is Lucinda?”

“Umm, why do you ask?”

“Because listening to your conversation just now, it seems like she could be your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” I blink and head toward the bed. “Like I said, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She just stares at me for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did she need to speak to you so badly, and why does she want to see you?”

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “She’s a drama queen.”

“How do you know her?” She blinks.

I stare at her for a couple of moments, but I realize I cannot tell her the truth. If I tell her the truth, everything will come crashing down around me. For a few minutes, I wonder if I should risk it. If I should tell her everything. But a little voice in the back of my head says it would be the worst mistake of my life.

Another little voice, another part of me that I don’t really like, asks me why I would even consider telling her in the first place.

“Liam, we just had a moment, and I feel like you’re not being honest with me.”

“We didn’t just have anything,” I say, blinking and taking a step back. “You got into my bed and took your clothes off, and you started playing with yourself. You may or may not have come. I couldn’t tell. Your screams were a little weak.” I shrugged.

She stares at me and shakes her head. “Really?”

“You had a couple of moans, but that was it.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m just saying, if it were me inside of you, as opposed to your own fingers, you would have been screaming so loud that the police would have shown up because there would have been complaints from neighbors about a noise disturbance.”

She stares at me for a few seconds. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“No, I’m just honest.”

“If you’re so honest, tell me who Lucinda is.”

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