Vivian took a long sip from her drink, gazing at Ralf with hooded eyes before releasing the straw from her perfectly painted lips. “Peasants,” she murmured. “Yes.” She flicked an assessing glance up and down my outfit before pivoting on her heel – Louboutins, naturally – and strolling out of the kitchen.
“Why is she like that?” I asked. “She doesn’t even know me.”
“No offense,” Ralf said with a grimace that told me I was definitely going to take some offense, “but she doesn’tneedto know you. She has everything. Her father is loaded, as is her fiancé, she lives in a penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park and has a social calendar that’s nothing short of fabulous.”
“Maybe she should just quit now and start her company then,” I said. “Give us all a break.”
Elliot trudged into the kitchen, cricking his neck. “God, I need coffee.”
“After the sugar-infused pint you had earlier today?” I said.
“Well, I’ve had my fill of tea,” he murmured with a secret smile. “Besides, I need the energy if I’m to spend another second arguing vocabulary with you.”
“That’s not very obsequious of you.”
“You’re not even—” Elliot rolled his eyes. “Never mind.”
“Well, on that note, I’d best get back to it.” Ralf held up his phone as if it were a weapon. Then his eyes dropped to my mouth, and he grabbed a napkin, touched it to my face. “You got some juice there.” He was standing so close I could smell his aftershave, woody and overpoweringly luxurious.
“Thanks.” I took the napkin from him and dabbed at the spot of orange pulp, conscious that Elliot was watching from just feet away.
“All gone,” Ralf said. “Have a great day, Lucie.”
“Did he take you out yet?” Elliot growled as soon as Ralf left.
“Why are you so against me hanging out with him?” I asked.
“Ralf Fisher is an ambitious hack,” Elliot said. “He uses people.”
“Well, if he is then I don’t know what he’d be doing hanging out with me,” I said with a laugh. “I’m a nobody in this town. Using me won’t get him anywhere.”
“Maybe you’re a nobody, but you were flown over here at the request of RJ,” said Elliot. “And that means something to Ralf.”
“Can’t one person be nice to another person because it’s the right thing to do?” I asked, trying not to react to Elliot agreeing with my ‘nobody’ status.
Elliot looked at me blankly. “Yes, a person can. But Ralf can’t access genuine human emotion like a regular person.”
I shook my head. “Are you always this cynical or is this a special performance just for me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you think Ralf has a crush on you?” Elliot shot back.
“No, I—” I blushed. I really didn’t know what to make of Ralf’s behavior towards me. I hoped his intentions were in the spirit of professional friendship, but there were moments it was hard to tell, like just now with the orange juice.
“Because I guarantee he doesn’t,” Elliot went on. “Ralf Fisher is incapable of feeling anything that isn’t transactional.” He sighed, relented. “I’m just saying, I’d hate for you to get caught in one of his schemes.”
“I’m not going to because it won’t be a date!” I insisted. “Just two people hanging out. I’m not looking for romance or anything like that anyway. Too much going on.”
Elliot paused in the process of loading his mug with obscene amounts of sweetener and cream. “That’s kind of depressing, but I get it.”
“I’m told cat lady is a viable option nowadays, so I have that to look forward to,” I added. “Now we’ve established what miserable, loveless bastards we are, shall we go and write a romance?”
Chapter Sixteen
If our impromptu coffee date yesterday had softened Elliot’s frustration towards me, I wasn’t seeing it today. “Please stop banging your head against the desk,” I begged him.
“I’m in despair,” he groaned, his voice muffled.
“It was a valid comment.”
