“Ah.” Placing the papers inside a large brown envelope, he set it on the table before glancing back at her, asking softly, “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not really,” she murmured, thinking about how she also had two cleaning jobs and worked seven days a week. “But only if you’re doing so for the right reasons.” Unconsciously cocking her head to the side as she looked at him, she said, “I don’t think you need to work so hard, though. Do you?”
Gian looked thoughtful. “I guess I’m thinking about the future. I don’t want the people I care about to suffer in any way.”
She watched him perch himself on the edge of the desk, long muscular legs encased in an exquisite pair of pants stretched in front of him, and it was such a sexy sight that Vivian found herself shifting restlessly on her seat. It was times like this, when she was confronted by just how attractive and powerfully sexy he was, that she felt like she was dreaming.
He looked like a god, and she looked like…an office cleaner, which was exactly what she was.
Why was he even wasting time with her?
“However, it may not seem so, but I am actually not a workaholic. I know how to balance my time,” Gian was saying.
And as she listened to him, she realized one important thing, and Vivian jerked.
Gian stopped speaking abruptly, his narrowed gaze on her paling face. “What is it?”
She shook her head.
“Spill it out, cara.”
Should she tell him or not?
He said warningly, “It clearly matters much to you. I cannot let you leave seeing you are evidently distressed about something—-”
She cut him off, blurting out, “I’m being friendzoned, aren’t I?” She gestured to him and herself. “The way you’re talking to me, opening up to me, I mean, I’ve always wondered why you even bother to talk to me, and now I get it.”
Gian was visibly bemused. “Friend zoned?”
Vivian groaned with dismay. “You don’t know what it means? I actually have to—-” Then she realized he had pulled out his phone and was busy typing. “No, don’t Google—-”
He looked up. “I know what it means now.”
Fudge, she thought. Double, triple, quadruple fudge. She said weakly, “Congratulations.”
His lips twitched.
And that was it. Gian didn’t appear inclined to confirm or deny her assertions, which left her…where? Was she being played? Or maybe she had gotten it completely wrong? Oh, she was so confused!
“Gian—-”
“Vivi—-”
They both broke off at the realization they had spoken at the same time, but a moment later Gian’s phone rang and his brow furrowed. “Scusa,” he apologized softly. “But I must take this call.”
“Oh, it’s okay.”
He smiled briefly before answering the call, turning his back on her as he did. “Ciao.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she listened to him speak in Italian, even though she didn’t understand a single thing he was saying. As his call continued, Vivian decided to start cleaning the room, remembering too late that she wasn’t being paid by the hour. The way her contract worked, she had four floors to clean for a fixed rate, and how fast or slow she was about with her work was entirely up to her.
She started with the desks, like she always did, tidying loose paperwork, returning unused supplies to their respective drawers, and sharpening pencils even though she didn’t have to. When she got to the desk where Gian’s papers were, she was careful not to disturb them too much, but even so a page fell out from the envelope.
Vivian frowned.
Wasn’t that—-
She pulled the other pages out. She went through them, slowly at first and then quickly, as her dreams crumbled and her worst fears were confirmed.
These papers were all scribbles and doodles of—-
Dear Daddy,
I miss you so much. I hope you come home soon.
Love,
Eula
Her heart dropped to her stomach.
What did this mean?
Chapter Two
Vivian wanted to crumple the papers and tear them into pieces, but she couldn’t. She felt like if she did, she might as well have stomped all over the little girl’s feelings. She couldn’t do that. The girl had done anything wrong except—-
Vivian belatedly noticed the silence in the room. Papers still in her grip, she glanced up and saw Gian staring at her.
Except have a liar for a father, she thought dully. She could see no reason why he had to photocopy his daughter’s letters – no other reason unless he hadn’t anything to photocopy, but he needed an excuse to be here whenever she was around.
“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded.
He said gently, “I can explain—”
Papers falling from her grip, Vivian took a step back, thinking with an internal shudder how that was exactly the kind of line that psychos and pathological liars used.
He took a step towards her, saying in a calming voice, “Relax, Vivi—-”
“No! Don’t call me that!” ‘Vivi’ no longer sounded good or sweet or sexy. Right now, ‘Vivi’ sounded extremely icky, a nickname coined by douchebags for their marks. She hurried behind her trolley, knowing it was stupid but even so, she needed something concrete between them, something to make her feel safer and less stupid. Keep yourself together, Vivian, she told herself while taking deep gulps of air. Hadn’t she thought that it was too good to be true for someone like Gian to be interested in her? Well, it was, and she should be thankful she knew the truth now, before her infatuation turned into love.