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“My car?” I raise my brows, glancing back at his.
“Yeah. It’s got…carattere.”
“I believe that would’ve just been easier to say in English.”
“Yeah, it sounded better in my head.” He flashes me an embarrassed smile, and we stand there looking at each other like teenagers, instead of a powerful probably-billionaire and a master tech expert.
“I’ll meet you there?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, and I notice the bulge of his biceps at the edge of his shirt. They’re honestly breathtaking, and I don’t know how I’ll ever get used to it, seeing as how every other guy I’ve ever worked with in this industry looks like they haven't seen the sun in a year, let alone walked through the doors of a gym.
“Sounds good!” I chirp way too quickly, jumping into my car and closing the door.
I pull out of my spot before he does and head towards the road. After about a mile of driving, I realize he’s right behind me. We arrive at the pizza place, and it’s not very crowded, but then again, it’s only mid-week. I slide out of my car and close the door, locking it as Tito steps beside me. He’s like a shadow, close beside me, hands nearly touching as we make our way to the door.Why is he so close?
“I won’t trip and fall again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I tease, and he flushes a little again. I notice that he puts some distance between us then, stepping forward to grab the door, and I want to kick myself for saying anything.
Just as he reaches for the handle it opens with the ring of the bell dangling above it and the group of our colleagues stop when they see us.
“We thought you weren’t coming, you two always take forever to leave and—“
“All good!” Tito raises a hand to Jan, who is attempting to explain himself— breaking a sweat while he’s at it. “Scout and I can get something on our own. See you all in the morning.” He waves at everyone, and they nod vigorously, vehemently agreeing with him as we pass them by and arrive at a sign that says to seat ourselves.
Tito takes my hand as the door closes, and I hope no one is seeing this. I would hate for them to think I only got this role because of something between Tito and me. Not that there is something between us, I just don’t want it to look like it.Why is he still holding my hand?I shiver as he leads us to a corner booth for two, telling myself that it’s because the restaurant is a little chilly, and I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt.
I’ve never been here before. It's small and dimly lit, rustic and cute with exposed brick walls and a single menu on the table. The kind of place you’d go on an intimate date—which this isn’t, of course. It’s a work dinner. With candlelight.
“This okay?” He stops in front of it and I sit down without answering. “Alright.” He chuckles and waves for the waitress. He orders a couple of things for us to start, including the most expensive red wine on the menu. That, combined with my salary and the Bat-Mobile parked outside the facility, means my guess ofprobably-billionairehas just been updated todefinitely billionaire.
No one has that kind of money unless they're from a long line of business success, which would be plausible if I'd ever heard of the nameSan Giovanni. I mean, either that--or he’s in the mafia. A thought that seemed dramatic and ridiculous, but now as I’m sitting across from Tito with my stomach in knots, feels more and more plausible.
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense– a mysterious job offer from a man in a trench coat, a strange job location, an endless budget to get the best of the best people and materials.Shit.And what if he is? Am I doing something illegal?
Nothing I’ve seen so far makes me think that what we’re doing is for nefarious purposes.Titodoesn’t seem like a nefarious kind of guy. But I’m also not told everything.
“Here you are.” The server comes back in a flash with a bottle and two glasses. She sits them in front of us before uncorking the bottle and setting it down for us.
“Thanks, Maggie.” Tito nods to her with a smile, and I realize he must come here often, if he knows the staff by name.
“Sure thing, we’ll get the rest of those appetizers out for you too!” She dashes away before we can mumble thank-yous through courteous smiles. Tito pours my glass before his. We stare at each other for a moment, and I try to reconcile with the fact that this is just dinner after work and not some weird date that wasn’t meant to be a date, but certainly feels like one.Shit. Is it a date? No--
“What are you thinking about?” He takes a sip of his wine to make the question seem more casual than it is. Because, it’s not, for the record— not casual to ask someone like me what I’m thinking. The fuck if I really know what I’m thinking. Typically, it’s twelve things at once, and I’m not about to rattle everything off to someone I work with.
“Too personal?” He laughs but when I nod his smile slightly drops. “Oh, I— That was— just— it was… stupid. Sorry.” He shakes his head and takes a longer sip of wine.
I join him, drinking nearly half the glass in one go. But that boulder in my stomach seems to have let up. The alcohol must have melted it away, and now I’m feeling more confident. I don’t drink much— mostly for this reason. To turn out like my mother, dependent on stimulants and numbing mechanisms, would be a nightmare.
Tonight, I will make an exception, though. As much as it makes me cringe to even think about this, I need it if I hope to keep my cool and possibly even my job. One way or another, I will keep this work friendship strictly platonic and that starts with me not acting like a blushing bimbo in front of Tito San Giovanni. So, if I have to down a bottle of red with him to keep things normal between us, so be it. And it’s most definitelynota date.
