“He likes you a lot. I can tell.”
Luca smiles and puts an arm around me. “I just—I’ve never felt this way. It feels too good to be true.”
“Mom and Dad met and got married in a month.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, but that was different.”
I look at him pointedly. “How?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, it was Mom and Dad,” he explains, and I laugh.
“If you guys have kids, it could be much of the same story, you know.”
This shuts him up, and he stares out at the large studio lots as the tour begins.
“Where was Anderson earlier?” I ask a few minutes later, willing my voice to sound nonchalant.
Luca sighs. “It’s not really my place to say.”
“Maybe it has to do with the secret phone calls,” I add casually, pretending to pick at my nails as the tour guide explains each set with way too much enthusiasm and vigor.
“It doesn’t. It’s a personal matter.” I make a disgruntled noise, and Luca scowls at me. “Why are you so nosy?”
I pretend to copy his annoyed tone and look away, curiosity eating at me. He should know that I’m going to keep bugging him for the deets. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”
He lets out a loud, resigned sigh. “He was visiting his sister’s grave, okay? It’s all the way up in Santa Barbara. I told him he didn’t have to come today, but he insisted. It was the anniversary of her death last week.”
That’snot the answer I was expecting. “His sister?”
He makes an uncomfortable face. “All I know is that they were very close, and she died shortly after he started at Gather.” He pauses. “You did not hear this from me, got it?”
I study my nails as the information settles into my mind. I bite my lower lip and discreetly look back at Anderson. He’s looking away at something off in the distance. His eyes are dark, troubled—his jaw clenched.
“They were fifteen months apart growing up,” Luca adds. “Really close. Not that dissimilar to us, in fact.”
My throat constricts, and I close my eyes. “Jesus.”
“Yeah. It’s really sad.”
“You said last week was the anniversary… do you mean while we were in Maui?”
He nods. “Yeah. The day we all flew out.”
I swallow.So that’s why he was such a jerk.It doesn’t excuse his behavior, but now I could at least understand his state of mind when we met.
The tour guide then starts chatting aboutPsychoandBates Motel.I try my best to keep from feeling like a complete jerk.
Luca suggestswe grab burgers and head back to his house, but I decline. The rum and the emotional warfare have worn me out, and all I want to do is go home, eat an entire bowl of macaroni and cheese, and pass the fuck out.
“Can you drive Anderson home? He took a cab here,” Luca says, before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “See you in the office tomorrow.”
I smile. “First real day, I suppose.”
Anderson is scowling as we walk to my car. His legs are so long, I have to take two steps for every one of his. He’s quiet the whole walk, and when we get to my Civic, he stops and stares at it.
“This is your car?” he asks, his voice agitated.
“Sorry it’s not a Tesla.”
