Page 77 of The Billionaire Mismatch

I drive back to my place and Vivien Lee rushes to me at the door. She’s not always this enthusiastic to see me. Half the time, she doesn’t even lift her head. At the very most, I get an ear perk. But considering she was with my neighbor for multiple days, after our other unplanned night away, Vivien seems to be a little worried I am going to leave one day and not come back.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I insist, walking around her four-legged happy dance and heading over to the jar of dog treats that I keep on the fridge because Airedales can and will get on counters. “Don’t worry, I’ll always come back.” Vivien believes me, though not until she is chewing happily on a peanut butter crunch bone, and I am able to make a snack for myself. I smile as I think about the work day, not just the chaotic callers but also my friends, as I edged their curiosity with my lack of information.

“I didn’t lie to them,” I tell Vivien as she looks up at me. “Things were good this past weekend, even with the rain. In fact, if it weren’t for the rain, we wouldn’t have talked as much as we did. And honestly, I think it’s good that we talked. I think we needed to talk. For research purposes, you know?”

Vivien sits down and continues to stare, her way of asking me to go on. Actually, it’s probably her way of begging for another treat. I cave in and give it to her because I really do need someone to talk to, and it’s obvious that I can’t talk to my friends about this.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I say, unscrewing the jar. “But it really was for research. If I know who Luca Laurent is on the inside, I know what his intentions are. Then I can take that information and apply it to my podcast notes. Make sense?” I ask, and Vivien grumbles indifferently before heading over to the couch to lie down.

I follow her, plopping down with a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. None of this makes sense,” I say as I pet her. “Especially the whole intentions part. It just…I feel like Sadie might be wrong about him. I know he led her on and hurt her. And he’s known for being a player who will never commit to love or even really believe in it for that matter, but when I’m with him, he’s…I don’t know. Different.”

I wait for Vivien to answer, like she’s not just a dog with a belly full of peanut butter. When she doesn’t, I go on reasoning with myself. “He’s charming, and not in a schemey way, not in a means to an end catfish sort of way. He’s actually sweet. Under the guarded, spiky, grumpy surface, of course. Like a pufferfish,” I say with a giggle, and Vivien heaves out a sigh. “Alright, I’ll stop talking about him,” I say.

Then my phone buzzes with a text.

I grin.

“Well, speak of the devil…” I say, and Vivien’s eyes dart up to meet mine. “What? I said I’d stop talking about him, not that I wouldn’t talk to him.”

She blinks.

“You know what? I’m just going to take this in the other room,” I say, padding across the floor and down the hall. In reality, I just want to change into something more comfy but I know Viv enjoys our bickering conversations.

Luca: Hey. You hungry?

Olivia: Who wants to know?

Luca: Someone who just spent the day dealing with incompetent interns.

Olivia: Uh oh. This someone sounds a little hangry…

Luca: I could go for a drink too. So what’s the verdict?

Olivia: That depends…is it a date?

Luca: Maybe…

Olivia: Hmm…alright. But under one condition.

Luca: Let me guess. You want sushi.

I smile, pacing my room as I stare at my phone screen. I am about to type yes (because let’s be honest, when do I not want sushi?) but then I stop.

Olivia: I have another idea…

Luca: Oh?

Olivia: Come over and you’ll see.

My heart skips around in my chest as I wait for his response. Then…

Luca: I’ll be there in twenty.

“I gotta admit,” Luca says as he takes a bottle of wine out of a paper grocery bag and sets it on the counter. “Your text was allusive enough to be questionable. But what isn’t questionable is how fucking amazing this kitchen smells.”

I smile over my shoulder as I flip a corn tortilla in the bubbling olive oil. “I hope you’re hungry,”

“I am. Hangry, as you put it. I assumed the requested wine was for nightcap purposes. But it looks like we aren’t going out,” he says.