Page 101 of All's Well that Friends Well
Another grunt.
“Also—last one, I promise—I think it might be helpful if you have me read over any emails or memos you’re planning to send.”
He doesn’t grunt at this request; he nods.
“That’s really it,” I say, straightening up and smiling at him, my hands clasped behind my back, a bubbly excitement brimming in my chest. “Not so bad, right?”
“Not so bad,” he admits. His gaze skates over me as he speaks, lingering on my outfit. “This is different,” he says, and he’s right; my clothes today are less office-wear and more just pretty.
“They’re different,” I confirm with a nod. “I wanted to feel extra good about myself.” Because I’ve got Luca on the hook; now it’s time to reel him in, patiently, step by step.
Except instead of reeling him in, I want him to swim tome willingly. He said he would put in the work; I want to see that happen.
“I see,” he says slowly, still looking me over. There’s appreciation in his gaze, but confusion, too.
I sigh and hop up, sitting on the edge of his desk. He frowns with disapproval but doesn’t ask me to move, so I stay.
“It’s simple,” I say. “Remember how I’m trying to get you to fall in love with me?”
He chokes at these words, coughing and spluttering as his cheeks turn pinker than normal. After he’s cleared his throat a few times, he cocks one brow at me. “Yes,” he says, his voice dry but clearly interested. “I remember something about that.”
I nod, swinging my legs a bit. “And you said I could try,” I remind him.
He hums. “I remember that too.”
“Well, I made a list of ways to make that happen.”
That arched brow rises further. “A list?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Luca’s glasses glint with the desk light as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “Just to clarify—a list of ways to get me to fall in love with you?”
“Of ways to become Mrs. Luca Slater,” I say with a shrug. “So yes.”
“You’re planning quite the future, I see.” His voice is still dry, matter-of-fact, but his eyes are dancing with humor now.
I give him an earnest nod. “I’m nothing if not devoted to my cause.”
His lips twitch at this, one of my favorite things to see. “I find myself unsurprised but intrigued,” he finallysays as his gaze darts over my face. He’s silent for a second, and when he speaks again, his voice is rough. “Show me.”
I can’t stop the grin that curls over my lips as I lean forward, my pulse jumping. “You want to see the list?”
Slowly, his gaze glued to mine, he nods.
“It’s going to cost you,” I say lightly, and I hear a note of taunting in my voice that I rarely use. Teasing, challenging.
His gaze sharpens on mine, his body stilling. Then, with a languid ease that makes my heart pound, his eyes drift down to my lips.
“I’m listening,” he says in a low, hoarse voice.
And I want to accept the invitation he’s offering—the invitation he might not even realize he’s offering. I want to kiss him again, wrap my arms around his neck, hold him close.
But we’re not ready for that to happen again. Not yet. So I rein in the impulse and tell him what I want instead.
“Take me on a date,” I breathe, watching his expression closely to see what he thinks. “A real date.”
It’s surprise I see first—a flutter of widening eyes, jumping brows. Then he nods slowly, almost hesitantly. “I could do that.”
