Page 60 of All's Well that Friends Well

“I—you’re sure?” Luca says, but I’m nodding before he’s even finished asking the question.

“Yes,” I say. “Of course I am. I can wear cute skirts and heels, and I can boss you around and stare at you?—”

“Cut it out,” he says gruffly. “Or I’ll report you to HR for harassment.”

But there’s a faint spark of amusement in his eyes, a little twitch at the corners of his lips.

“So sorry,” I say. Then I clear my throat. “When can I start? Tomorrow? Can I start tomorrow? Can I do the paperwork in the morning? What are you going to pay me?”

“Calm down,” Luca says. He reaches for the laundry room door and opens it. “I’ll email you with details. You probably won’t start until a week from tomorrow.”

“Boo,” I say with a frown. But the frown doesn’t last very long. Luca gestures to the open door, and I slip back out andround the corner into the kitchen, where everyone is still laughing at a story Rod is telling.

Luca drifts away from me almost immediately, heading for the corner—where he can brood by himself, no doubt, about being forced to be social. I follow him, smiling slightly as I tune in to Rod’s story.

“Did you really volunteer at a dog shelter as a teenager?” I say when I’ve settled myself against the wall. I keep my voice quiet, but it’s difficult because of the excitement bubbling inside me, the giddy laugh trying to rise in my throat.

Luca glances over at me and grunts, which I take to mean yes.

“And did a German Shepherd really?—”

“Pee on me to mark his territory?” he cuts me off dryly, the words low. “Yes.”

I giggle, moving closer to him—close enough to smell his blue-green scent. “It’s hard to picture.”

“Which part?”

My hum is soft. “All of it. You don’t come off as someone who ventures outside of himself.”

A flash of regret passes over his features, and he shrugs, his eyes still on the old man. “It was a different time. I was a different person.” He pauses and then goes on, “My parents were still alive. I was living at home, going to school with my friends. I was a normal kid.”

My giddy excitement fades along with my smile.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be alone that way—to lose my parents, my friends. I nod slowly, thinking. Then I look at Luca. “Do you ever get tired?”

Something about this question startles him; he freezes, more of a sudden tension in his body than anything else.And for a moment, he doesn’t answer. I’ve just about given up hope that he’s going to when he finally speaks.

“All the time,” he says. The words are heavy—exhausted, even. His entire body seems to sag under the weight of—what, I don’t know. Everything. And I want desperately to help him. Not to carry his burdens, because I can’t, and I shouldn’t.

But to cheer him on, to strengthen him—those things, I could do.

“Luca,” I find myself saying, my voice so soft I can barely hear it over the laughter ringing through the kitchen.

Luca snorts, his eyes still directed forward. “That’s Mr. Slater to you,” he says under his breath. “Especially once you’re my assistant.”

I hesitate, my heart pounding harder and harder. “Luca,” I repeat.

And it’s this, finally, that pulls Luca’s gaze toward me; he turns his head slowly, looking down at me as one eyebrow arches.

Waiting for me to speak.

I clear my throat, drinking in every inch of him I can see. “If you ever need a place to rest,” I say.

His expression shifts into something inscrutable now, but I go on.

“If you ever need somewhere to rest…I’m here.”

Behind his glasses, Luca’s eyes widen the tiniest bit. And I know, I can sense, that it’s time for me to see myself out—that I need to give him a bit of space, because that is a man curled very tightly in his shell, and he needs room to unfurl. So I give him a little smile.

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