Page 57 of Matteo

“What are you still doing here?” He evades my question in typical Matteo fashion. “I could ask the same of you.”

“You haven’t answered my question.” I step inside. “I got carried away. It happens sometimes.”

Just then a loud, gnarly, roar comes from deep in my gut. I pray that he didn't hear it.

“Was that your ... stomach?”

Damn it. He heard. “I forgot to have lunch.”

“How could you forget, Elizabeth?”

There's a touch of annoyance in his eyes, even though his voice is softer now. I feel a thrum of something low in my chest. It's not my nerves. It's something else, but I can't place it.

“I got carried away, I told you.”

“You should take care of yourself, not sacrifice yourself to the company.”

He seems so serious. Too serious. Like he ... like he almost cares. I attempt a laugh. “I wouldn't sacrifice myself for the company, believe me.”

“That’s reassuring.”

His words settle somewhere deep inside me. I’m not used to people worrying about me. Arthur and Irene do. So does Vlad, in his own way.

But Matteo? I’m caught completely off guard.

“Did you have breakfast?” he asks.

I wince. “I woke up late and rushed to get here.”

“That would be a ‘no’ then.”

My stomach rumbles again in answer.

“You need to eat.” He gets up. “So do I. Let’s get something.”

I almost step back in shock. Does he mean me and him?

Now?

That’s the sort of thing Vlad would do, but this is rather presumptuous of Matteo, to think that I’d want to have something to eat with him.

And this is different.

Matteo is my boss and I have these feelings for him which are getting in the way.

He seems to notice my reluctance. “It's only a bite to eat. Nothing more. You can update me with where you’re at without prying eyes and ears.”

I'm about to tell him we're the only ones here, but he grabs his leather jacket and I have no option but to leave. I head back to my desk, and pack my things away. He spots my nearly finished bag of nuts.

“That was your lunch?”

“It kept me going.”

We leave the office, and get into the elevator. Being here with him brings back all sorts of memories; the cramped space and confined walls. The way he’d stood so close to me I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Don't worry, we're not about to get stuck again. It's only a thirty-second ride.”

“I’m not worried.” But I think back to that time again, and catch him staring at me. The way he looks at me makes me think that maybe it’s not just in my head.