Page 15 of Lucy Loves Him Not
“I think you’re less his enemy than he is yours,” he said carefully. “I think the fury is a little one-sided. For Adam, it’s not fury he’s feeling, but more like irritation. Like when a fly keeps buzzing around your head.”
“Well, maybe he would be morefuriousif I had stolen the summer job he’d loved since he was a kid,” I said, trying to sound calm and collected, not as indignant as I felt being compared to a fly.
“To be fair, youweretrying to steal his job. His job includes running the summer festival. It’s just the guy before him offloaded that particular duty to you?—”
“My grandma?—”
“And before you, he offloaded it onto your grandma.” Victor chuckled like he found the whole thing amusing.
The waitress showed up and took our order. He got the beef ravioli and I got the capellini tomato basil.
I thanked the waitress as she walked away then turned back to Victor, unable to focus on anything during this date but Adam. “He thinks I’m trying to steal his job?”
“Sure. It’s a two-way street. You both think you’re the one who should be running the festival when technicalities lie in his favor. Sure, you have an emotional history with the festival thatI respect, and he respects, too, by the way, but technically it’s supposed to be his job.” He was buttering a roll as he said this. “And if Adam is anything, he’s the guy who follows the rules. Even if it makes beautiful women who are used to getting what they want very angry.”
I rolled past the compliment. “Sure, the paperwork probably says it’s supposed to be him. But doesn’t he have the power to change what the paperwork says?”
Victor considered this. “Maybe.”
“That’s my point. He could change things up and include me.” I hadn’t touched the appetizer. My hands were too busy emphasizing my points.
“I don’t think he was ever againstincluding you. He was against handing the whole festival over to you.”
“Oh, I could tell he was against any and all involvement from me,” I said dramatically. Though I knew I was the one against any and all involvement of Adam. I could get laser-focused.
My sisters called it my “Lucy Vision” when I couldn’t see anything but what I wanted and how to get it. They’d snicker, “Oh no, she has her Lucy vision turned on,” when I did things like deciding we were going to throw our mom a huge 50thbirthday party themed around the ’50s era, throwing myself—and them—into it. I even hired an Elvis impersonator, who Grandma wound up dating for a hot minute.
Or when I decided we were all going to learn Italian before we went on our Italian vacation, and I bought us a curriculum and hired a tutor, whom Gracie dated for a hot minute.
Or the summer I decided to sew all my own clothes. Also known in my family as my Seamless Summer.
Or when I decided I was going to take over Grandma’s summer festival after she passed, promising myself that I would do it with all my heart every year, like she had done before me.
“So, if I saw Adam tomorrow morning and said, ‘Hey, that Lucy girl would actually still like to volunteer’, you’d be up for that?” He cocked an eyebrow, his voice syrupy with disbelief.
“Certainly,” I said, devoid of any zeal. He didn’t seem convinced.
Our food arrived and we both excitedly dug in. We tried to learn more about each other, but the conversation kept looping back toward Annoying Adam.
It was me, but it was him, too. I think both of us couldn’t shake our first impressions or the obvious firestorm between me and his boss.
He was cute, sure, and friendly. But the fireworks just weren’t there. It didn’t help that he'd compared me to a fly at one point.
We finished our dinner quickly, strolling out of the restaurant in under an hour.
“So, uh, this isn’t going anywhere, huh?” he said as we stepped outside. I burst out laughing at his bluntness.
“I suppose not.” I winced apologetically.
“You got any sisters?” He opened his hands wide in question.
I broke into laughter again and held up two fingers as an answer when someone bumped into me. Victor’s expression went from playful to serious in seconds as I twisted my head to see who had just bumped into me.
Adam was the someone who had bumped into me and was now awkwardly standing in front of our giggly twosome. His assistant and the woman who’d been messing with his professional life…on an obvious date.
“Adam!” Victor said with a forced joviality. “Good evening.”
“Hi, there,” I said, not attempting to conceal the awkwardness in my tone. I also tried to ignore how much more my type he was than my own date, looking away from his sky-blue eyes.
