Gabriele’s jaw goes slack and I crane my head up to stare at my faux flirting partner. He’s unblinking and composed and I inwardly call upon all theOperation Starshipgods to make him be bluffing. He has to be bluffing. Aldrin is beloved and not to be dramatic, I can’t imagine life without him.
“I just don’t like the atmosphere he’s bringing to the show,” Matt says casually. “His attitude is toxic and no one wants to deal with a person like that, you know?”
I glance at Gabriele and he obviously wants to speak but can’t find the words. A few seconds later he mutters, “I need to check in with my boss.”
“It was great meeting you,” Matt offers.
Gabriele walks off, but I don’t watch him go. Instead, I look up at Matt, trying to concentrate on his face. On the long-healed scar beneath his left eyebrow. On the aristocratic line of his jaw. My eyes stay northward but every other inch of me is hyperfocused on the lingering weight of his hand on my waist. It’s still there. Even now that there’s no reason for it. Even now that we’re alone. It feels soothing and it saysmine, and it takes more effort than I ever imagined for me to step away, which I then force myself to do.
Misreading my retreat, Matt says, “I’m sorry. I should have asked before I put my arm around you.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I was just surprised.”
“Surprised that I was rude to your coworker?”
“Surprised that you deigned to touch me,” I reply a little quietly. “It must have hurt.”
Matt swallows at my words. “It didn’t hurt.”
Our gazes lock and the air feels different. Different than a minute ago. Different than a second ago. There’s an unspoken understanding between us now, but I don’t understand what that understanding is. Matt seems to have an idea. His eyes stay on mine and he moves toward me. I don’t step away. I tilt my chin up. I’m about to ask what he’s doing when I vaguely hear Marco excusing himself as he navigates through the crowd. Matt and I separate before he can see how close we were, and his arrival hits us like a freezing wind we desperately need.
“Hey, all,” he says, handing me a glass of champagne. “What did I miss? I got tied up talking to Marcel from accounting and in no way was I silently orbiting around Roberta Krasnig, one of my favorite photographers. Just kidding, I totally was.”
I steal a look at Matt, but he’s scanning the crowd. I’m mostly relieved.
“You didn’t miss much,” I hear myself answer. “Except Matt told Gabriele that he’s killing off Aldrin in season three.”
Marco gasps and nearly crushes his wineglass. “That better be a bold-faced lie.”
“It was a lie,” Matt swiftly answers. “Aldrin has a major storyline coming up and the actor who plays him is signed on for at least two more seasons.”
Marco starts breathing again and takes a restorative sip of his wine. “Praise be. Please don’t scare me like that.”
Matt smiles and out of the blue, my phone starts to ring. I peek inside my borrowed Gia Luca clutch to see that Daniella is FaceTiming. I dismiss the call, deciding to call her as soon as I get to the apartment tonight.
“Please tell me that wasn’t Greg,” Marco mumbles. “I still firmly believe that you should block his ass.”
“Greg?” Matt asks.
I don’t respond, but my response isn’t needed as Marco answers for me.
“Greg is her loser ex-boyfriend. They’ve been sending each other fleeting messages over the last few days and I don’t support it.”
Matt faces me, now seeming completely casual. Intentionally casual.
“So Greg reached out, then? I told you he would.”
“Yes, you did. As much as it pains me to admit it, you were right.”
Marco looks between us in a way that says,oh really?I may have forgotten to mention that I spoke to Matt about Greg. I’m sure he’s about to have an interrogation field day when Matt claps his hands together.
“Well, I think I’m going to quit while I’m ahead, then, and believe it or not, I see someone I know. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He walks off without another word, slowly but surely getting lost in the crowd. Once he’s gone, Marco turns to me with a look that promises nothing but trouble.
“Well, well,” he drawls. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”
I take a gulp of my champagne and shake my head. “No, thank you.”
“Fine. In that case, I’m making an executive decision. You are going to hook up with Matt. You’re welcome.”
