Page 112 of All's Well that Friends Well

I straighten up and look down at Luca. “Mr. Slater,” I say with surprise, “I’m impressed. You sound so friendly!”

He grunts, but the corners of his lips twitch. I poke his cheek.

“Smile,” I say. “You know you want to. A beautiful woman just gave you a compliment.”

“I thought I discussed inappropriate touch with the beautiful woman,” Luca says as he tries to maintain a straight face.

“I only vaguely remember that conversation,” I say. “It was very depressing.”

“You can’t pick and choose what to listen to when we’re talking,” Luca reminds me without looking up. He hitsSendon the email and then swirls around in his chair, leaning back and folding his arms. He cocks one brow at me. “You’re listening or you’re not listening. There’s no in between.”

I sober at this, because he’s right. He’s completely right. So I clear my throat. “You’re correct, and I seem to have forgotten that fact. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “Just be good in the workplace.”

My cheeks heat as I nod, trying to convey my sincerity. “I’ll do my best. Please remind me again if you need to. And I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t need to,” I add quickly.

Luca swivels his chair back to the computer, but I see alittle smile. “I’ll remind you,” he says, and then his face returns to its normal workplace expression—faintly grumpy, a little distracted. “Now back to work. I need you to compile a list of the data for the electric scooters around town. I’d like to know where they’re getting the least and the most use.”

“I can do that,” I reassure him, nodding again and straightening up.

And he doesn’t look at me even out of the corner of his eye. All he says is “I know you can.” Then he nods to the little laptop I’ve been using. “Get started. I’d like to finish before this afternoon’s meeting.”

LUCA

Julietand I work in silence for the rest of the day, until it’s time for our meeting. I stand up, trying to quell my stupid nerves. I shouldn’t feel anxious about something like a meeting; I’ve gone to more than I can count. But this is different, somehow.

Juliet stands when I do, checking something on her phone and smiling. Then she tucks it into her little bag and turns to me.

“Let’s go,” I say, gesturing to the door and rounding the desk—until I come to a stop, finding Juliet in my path.

“Wait, wait,” she says breathlessly, her eyes on my chest. “Your collar is off.” She reaches up without asking further permission and adjusts my collar, reaching around one side of my neck and then the other. Her fingers brush lightly against my skin, and I shiver at the sensation, watching the little crease in her brow as she fixes whatever she deems wrong.

“There,” she says a second later, her frown giving way to a look of satisfaction. “Your tie was peeking out from under the collar. This is much better.”

And we could do this everyday. It’s the first thing that pops into my mind, unbidden but strangely appealing. Juliet and I could spend mornings like this—her fixing my tie, me helping her zip her dresses or whatever else women need help with.

I swallow down the emotions trying to rise in the back of my throat—not tears but that same longing I felt when she threw me a birthday party.

The desire for someone like this in my life. Someone like her. Or maybe even…not someonelikeher.

Justher.Her, with her expressive eyes and bright smiles, with her unfailing love and her unwavering personality. There are no pretenses, no facades. What you see is what you get.

“Luca,” Juliet says, patting my chest lightly, and when I startle back to the present, I find her looking up at me with questioning eyes. “You with me?”

“Yes,” I croak. I clear my throat. “Sorry. Yes. I’m ready.”

Her concern fades into amusement, and she gives my chest one last pat. “In that case.” Then she steps back and gestures toward the door, a flourishing wave of her arms as she bows.

“Cut it out,” I mutter as I pass her, but I’m smiling.

When we enter the conference room—the same conference room Juliet was vacuuming when I tried to lay out our boundaries after we kissed—we’re the first people there. This doesn’t surprise me, but I am pleased when employees start trickling in only a minute or two after Juliet and me.

Although she doesn’t say a word, I can hear Juliet’s voicein my mind, telling me to say hello to these people, to look them in the eye and greet them, so I do my best. I don’t remember everyone’s names, but I remember most of them, and I’ll look up the rest tonight.

The sales team is made up of four employees, three gossiping women and Dell. The women are the ones who called JulietBarbie,which irks me now even more than it did then; still, I force myself to remain neutral as I look at them. They’re acting less like high schoolers today, their expressions nervous and sober.

Good.

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