Page 83 of Matteo

“It sucks that you women have to go through this and us guys get off so easily.”

“That’s nature and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

The kettle whistles and he fills the empty bottle with a touch of cold water first, before adding the hot water from the kettle. Then he closes it, and holds it out for me to touch. “Is this the right temperature?”

I'm so in awe that I just stare at him for a few seconds. He isn’t making a big deal of it, or looking for praise. He’s just taking care of me. The realization lands with surprising force. He’s not supposed to be making me a hot water bottle. He’s supposed to be at work, running a billion-dollar division.

I touch it. If it were lukewarm, or too hot, it wouldn't matter, it would still be perfect. As it happens, it’s just at the right temperature. “It's perfect.” I grin at him like a soppy teenager who’s just bumped into her secret crush.

But then an unsettling thought pops into my head. What if he’s here because he suspects that I’ve taken a day off work for no obvious reason?

“Did you think I was faking it?” I ask, suddenly timid.

“No. No.” He rushes to reassure me, and I believe him, instantly because he sounds so sincere. “It’s uh …” He swipes a hand over his face, like he does when he’s feeling uneasy.

“It’s uh … what?” I stare at him, not daring to breathe. “Do you regret what happened between us yesterday?”

“Regret? No.”

That’s when I understand. He thinks I’ve gone cold. That I’m having second thoughts. That I was too scared to go into work today. “You think I took the day off because I couldn’t face you?”

He throws his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. I don’t know. Everything feels so fragile, like it might break at any moment. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what you think.”

“I like you.” I swallow, feeling vulnerable for putting myself on the line. “I like you a lot.”

His eyes light up, a smile curves his lips, and he nods. “That’s … that’s good to know. I like you, too. In fact, I like you a lot.”

My mind drifts somewhere far away, floating through a distant galaxy. His words feel so amazing, so surreal, that I don’t know what to say.

Where do we go from here?

It’s not just that this is fragile, it’s also complicated.

“There’s so much against us,” I murmur to myself, but he hears it.

“Like what? Because I’m your boss?”

“I don’t see you as my boss.”

“Then what?”

“Your father.”

He frowns. “What about him?”

“If he finds out … he won’t like it. It might jeopardize my contract.”

“Nah. That’s not going to happen. You worry too much.”

“You dismiss it so easily, because you can.” I close my mouth, because he’s done something nice for me, and I shouldn’t be snarky.

“Don’t hold back. I sense you had more to say.”

I hug the water bottle to my stomach. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” I say with a cheeky smile.

“You won’t.” He flashes an even bigger smile, like he’s daring me.

“Uh …” I wander back to the couch and sit down. He sits at the other end of it. “You’re … you’re the son of a billionaire tycoon. People like you don’t play by the rules, or worry about breaking them.” I watch his reaction, and see that he’s calm. He’s barely flinched.