I sigh, pitiful. “I’m terrifieddoki dokimay never appear behind my head in large, bubbly font. Naturally, I can’t bear the idea of that.”
“Naturally,” he echoes. “Am I supposed to understand what you’re saying?”
Maybe. Maybe not… “You’ll probably get it around your third anime.” I meander toward the door and my keys, waiting forsomethingto come up that causes Dominic to suggest I go get food while he stays here—so he can take his important call.
Instead, he follows me outside, and we make it dangerously close to my car as my glasses fog up.
“Oh,” I say, blowing onto the glass in an effort to clear them.
“Oh?” he asks.
“If this is actually happening, I don’t have my purse, which means I am presently impoverished. I must return at once to my coffers and obtain the funds.”
“No worries. If this is a date, I’ll treat.” Dominic looks at me over the hood when I push my glasses back on. “What do you mean byif this is actually happening?”
Cautious, I unlock my vehicle and slide into the driver’s seat, as well as the sauna it appears to be resting in. “Nothing…”
Worried now, Dominic invests one hundred percent of his attention into me. “Are you feeling okay, August?”
“Yeah, of course.” I cut my eyes at the car clock. Two minutes. Two minutes until his important call.
If…of course…my hunch is correct, and Dominic isactuallygirl boss, Ali Montgomery. Which sounds ludicrous when I put it that way. But I really don’t know what else to think.
My boss’s attitude toward me trended toward flirty a month before someone appeared to confess his undying love.
That’ssuspicious.
And I really, genuinely, do not know or talk to that many people.
But, okay, fine. Ninety-nine percent of my speculation rides on the sense that he’s already seenKaicho wa Maid-samaand mixed up what episodes we rewatched last night. If you watch enough of this stuff, it all kind of becomes a blur, and it’s a miracle whenever you remember the characters’ names.
My highly professional deduction goes as follows: if he’s an anime nerdanda millionaire, he’sgotto be Ali.
He’s got to be Ali, and I’ve just misgendered her.
Because what else even comes close to making any kind of sense?
To reiterate: I donotknow many people, and I certainly donotknow multiple millionaires.
Stalling, I take every precious moment I can inserting the keys into the ignition, flicking my attention between my passenger and the clock.
“You are not acting like you’re feeling okay at all.” His hand lifts, settles against my forehead, and pushes my hair aside so he can lean across the console and touch his head to mine.
The action is so fundamentallyanimethat my breath catches.
“Hm.” His eyes open, inches away. “No fever.” His lips soften into a smile as the blue of his irisespiercesinto me. “Your face is red, though.”
“I wonder why,” I breathe.
“Truly a mystery.” He draws back and braces his elbow against the armrest to settle his chin atop his fist. “Do I need to drive?”
Sucking in a breath, I take note of the time, furrow my brow, and buckle up. “No. I’m…fine.”
“If you’re sure. You know I’d die for you, but I did hope that if I had to, it’d be more heroic than a car crash.”
Starting the AC, I back out of my driveway,safely. “I’m not going to crash.”
“Is that what people in your business might callforeshadowing?”
