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“Being stared at is nothing we can’t handle, especially after the things we’ve been through. But, if you’re uncomfortable, we can leave.” Alejandro caught me looking at the table of men, of course he knew I was nervous.
“No.” I answered half-convincingly, still assessing the feeling I had, settling on the worduneasy. “Being this close to Times Square seems unlike you. Remember how that turned out last time?”
“Don’t worry about that, or about these people. They’ll stare all night long with or without our permission. We’ll take your best champagne,” he said out loud, reanimating the gawking host who stood by his side. I didn’t blame her for checking him out, he was beautiful, and every woman thought so, despite the label ofkillerthat had taken his life by storm.
“No tequila?” I laughed.
“Not this time. Though I like where you’re headed.”
“Then why champagne?”
“Seems fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”
The waiter returned, twisting the cork off a pine-tinted bottle. It popped loudly. Alejandro didn’t move—I, on the other hand, flinched at the unexpected sound—and as hard as I tried to brush it off with a nervous laugh, he wouldn’t let go of my gaze.
His continuous observation always left me wondering, was he appreciating me, or figuring something out? Given the recent events, I figured some admission of guilt was plastered on my awkward face, because holding onto Parker’s kiss felt like a bomb strapped to my chest, the snip of its wire some test of skill I wasn’t prepared for. One wrong word, and everything would be up in flames.
I stroked my neck.
“Remind me why.” I said, taking the crystal flute from the waiter’s hand.
“For your new position with St. La Vie. I wanted to celebrate you and your accomplishments, and for the many more to come.”
“Of course!” I blinked, my champagne nearly slipping from my sweaty fingers. “Oh my god. Yes.”
“Don’t tell me you forgot already.”
“I’d never! I mean, I still can’t believe it. I can’t…” I couldn’t respond, having almost no time to consider the job offer since the moment I received Alejandro’s text.
“You can’t what? Believe that you’re gifted? Validation was never needed, but I’m sure it feels good.”
“Validation isn’t exactly the word I’d use. It’s a great opportunity, but there’s a lot I have to consider.”
“What could you possibly have to think about? Isn’t this what you always dreamed of?”
“Sure… but it wasn’t exactly the way I pictured getting it. I mean, I spent my whole life dreaming of that moment, imagining climbing my way through some grueling internship, earning it like anyone else would. But it’s not that at all, it’s just a favor… and it’s not even for me, it’s for you. St. La Vie wasn’t shy about making that clear.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“It screams nepotism… it feels dirty.”
“It’s an open door. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for it. I just don’t know if it’s right for me.”
“At least he was honest about it, and that’s what I told him to be. Would you rather he lie to you? Wouldn’t that feel dirtier than knowing up front?”
I chewed on the thought and how uncomfortably close it was to my secret. Did he already know?
“I suppose you’re right. That doesn’t sound good either.”
“Trust me, it would be much worse. I got you in, but now you need to do the work. Don’t look at it as a favor. Look at it as an opportunity to prove yourself, and you can trust that anything he says—any compliment or criticism—is real. The favor is to bring you on board, not to coddle you like a child.”
“Guess that’s a good excuse to cheers to then… to me… the non-child who’llconsiderthe chance of a lifetime.” I lifted the champagne to my lips for a long, much needed sip, allowing the bubbles to rest on my tongue before switching the topic. “Oh, and by the way, you stole my sketches... again,” I teased.
“Borrowed,” he corrected. “A big distinction.”
“How so?”
