by Marian Tee
Leaving Shane Grayson to his shenanigans and with the bridegroom at his best friend’s mercy, Luca headed towards the doors, his agile mind already busy conjuring ways he could make his plans come to fruition.
The ideal wife was someone who would not be able to afford to cross him, which meant she had to be poor, or at least desperately in need. She also had to be really good with kids but without any illusions about love.
Surely somewhere in this world, such a woman existed?
Chapter One
One year later
Opening the door to the photocopy room, Vivian was surprised but pleased to find a common face. He was here again, Vivian thought with an inner gulp.
The sole other occupant in the room had glanced up the moment Vivian entered, and a pair of amazingly light blue eyes marginally softened at the sight of her. “Good evening, Vivian.” His voice was low and husky, with a strong Italian accent. Tall and dark-haired, the man had smolderingly good looks that had gotten Vivian all tongue-tied the first time she had seen him. He was just so manly, so much sexier than all the men she had ever known or even seen in her entire life, that Vivian hadn’t known what to do or say in his presence. On the first day they had met, and it was in this very room, Vivian had only been able to stare at him, mortifyingly aware of the need to speak up but also knowing that if she did, she would only end up embarrassing herself. And so she had waited, cringing and already dreading the moment the too-beautiful man would realize how painfully shy she was and make fun of her because of it, like most people did.
No, like everyone in her life did.
But he had not.
Instead, he had only smiled gently at her, asking in his deep, pleasant voice if she needed him to leave the room while she cleaned. When she had shaken her head vigorously in answer, he had laughed softly, saying, “You look like a wind-up doll when you do that.”
And that was the beginning of their odd friendship.
Every week, they would bump into each other several times in this very room, with Gian photocopying documents that she had always been too shy to ask him about. In fact, every time they had chanced upon each other, it would always be Gian asking the questions, patiently and carefully drawing Vivian out of her shell with his teasing smiles and friendly banter.
He had been such an expert at extracting information out of her that before Vivian realized what was happening, she had practically shared with him her life story, such as the fact that she was twenty three but had never had a boyfriend or that she had to quit college so she could pay off some debts.
“School loans?” he had asked sympathetically.
“Worse,” she had told him glumly. “When my dad died, I couldn’t bear seeing him in an ugly coffin or without a proper resting place, so I borrowed money…”
“Loan sharks,” he had guessed shrewdly.
“Stupid, right?” Vivian had mumbled.
“You did it because you genuinely cared,” he had said softly. “There is nothing stupid about that.” And then he had reached out to ruffle her hair, and it had been the most beautiful and terrifying feeling in the world. Because at that moment, she had realized she was infatuated with him.
Oh my God, that she could actually have this kind of crush at her age, and on a man who was completely out of her league!
Also, make that a man whose name she only knew, and that was just his first name. Other than that, she remembered him vaguely mentioning he was one of the company’s lower-ranking executives, but she remained clueless as to what exactly his job was.
For all she knew, he could be lying about being an executive. He might just be a supervisor, but not that there was anything wrong about that, Vivian thought wryly. After all, she herself wasn’t exactly high up on the career ladder with her cleaning job.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
Gian’s amused voice snapped her back to reality, and flushing, she pulled her trolley with her inside the photocopying room. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Seeing him take a sheaf of papers from the machine, she asked, “Are you working overtime again?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered.
She bit her lip.
He raised a brow. “You wish to say something, Vivi?”
Oh.
‘Vivi’ wasn’t actually her nickname, but it was what Gian liked to call her and somehow, the sound of it always made her feel like shivering in pleasure. There was just something so…intimate about it, even though she would never have thought him the type to come up with such nicknames. It was too oddly cute for someone as seemingly serious as Gian.
She said slowly, “You work too hard.”
“Ah.” Placing the papers inside a large brown envelope, he set it on the table before glancing back at her, asking softly, “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not really,” she murmured, thinking about how she also had two cleaning jobs and worked seven days a week. “But only if you’re doing so for the right reasons.” Unconsciously cocking her head to the side as she looked at him, she said, “I don’t think you need to work so hard, though. Do you?”
Gian looked thoughtful. “I guess I’m thinking about the future. I don’t want the people I care about to suffer in any way.”
She watched him perch himself on the edge of the desk, long muscular legs encased in an exquisite pair of pants stretched in front of him, and it was such a sexy sight that Vivian found herself shifting restlessly on her seat. It was times like this, when she was confronted by just how attractive and powerfully sexy he was, that she felt like she was dreaming.
He looked like a god, and she looked like…an office cleaner, which was exactly what she was.
Why was he even wasting time with her?
“However, it may not seem so, but I am actually not a workaholic. I know how to balance my time,” Gian was saying.
And as she listened to him, she realized one important thing, and Vivian jerked.
Gian stopped speaking abruptly, his narrowed gaze on her paling face. “What is it?”
She shook her head.
“Spill it out, cara.”
Should she tell him or not?
He said warningly, “It clearly matters much to you. I cannot let you leave seeing you are evidently distressed about something---”
She cut him off, blurting out, “I’m being friendzoned, aren’t I?” She gestured to him and herself. “The way you’re talking to me, opening up to me, I mean, I’ve always wondered why you even bother to talk to me, and now I get it.”
Gian was visibly bemused. “Friend zoned?”
Vivian groaned with dismay. “You don’t know what it means? I actually have to---” Then she realized he had pulled out his phone and was busy typing. “No, don’t Google---”
He looked up. “I know what it means now.”
Fudge, she thought. Double, triple, quadruple fudge. She said weakly, “Congratulations.”
His lips twitched.
And that was it. Gian didn’t appear inclined to confirm or deny her assertions, which left her…where? Was she being played? Or maybe she had gotten it completely wrong? Oh, she was so confused!
“Gian---”
“Vivi---”
They both broke off at the realization they had spoken at the same time, but a moment later Gian’s phone rang and his brow furrowed. “Scusa,” he apologized softly. “But I must take this call.”
“Oh, it’s okay.”
He smiled briefly before answering the call, turning his back on her as he did. “Ciao.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she listened to him speak in Italian, even though she didn’t understand a single thing he was saying. As his call continued, Vivian decided to start cleaning the room, remembering too late that she wasn’t being paid by the hour. The way her contract worked, she had four floors to clean for a fixed rate, and how fast or slow she was about with her work was entirely up to her.
She started with the desks, like she always did, tidying loose paperwork, retur
ning unused supplies to their respective drawers, and sharpening pencils even though she didn’t have to. When she got to the desk where Gian’s papers were, she was careful not to disturb them too much, but even so a page fell out from the envelope.
Vivian frowned.
Wasn’t that---
She pulled the other pages out. She went through them, slowly at first and then quickly, as her dreams crumbled and her worst fears were confirmed.
These papers were all scribbles and doodles of ---
Dear Daddy,
I miss you so much. I hope you come home soon.
Love,
Eula
Her heart dropped to her stomach.
What did this mean?
She wanted to crumple the papers and tear them into pieces, but she couldn’t. She felt like if she did, she might as well have stomped all over the little girl’s feelings. She couldn’t do that. The girl had done anything wrong except---
Vivian belatedly noticed the silence in the room. Papers still in her grip, she glanced up and saw Gian staring at her.
Except have a liar for a father, she thought dully. She could see no reason why he had to photocopy his daughter’s letters – no other reason unless he hadn’t anything to photocopy, but he needed an excuse to be here whenever she was around.
“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded.
He said gently, “I can explain--”
Papers falling from her grip, Vivian took a step back, thinking with an internal shudder how that was exactly the kind of line that psychos and pathological liars used.
He took a step towards her, saying in a calming voice, “Relax, Vivi---”
“No! Don’t call me that!” ‘Vivi’ no longer sounded good or sweet or sexy. Right now, ‘Vivi’ sounded extremely icky, a nickname coined by douchebags for their marks. She hurried behind her trolley, knowing it was stupid but even so, she needed something concrete between them, something to make her feel safer and less stupid. Keep yourself together, Vivian, she told herself while taking deep gulps of air. Hadn’t she thought that it was too good to be true for someone like Gian to be interested in her? Well, it was, and she should be thankful she knew the truth now, before her infatuation turned into love.
“Let me explain,” Gian said.
She shook her head. “You mean you’re going to lie.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at him and---
Fudge.
His mesmerizingly light blue eyes stared back at her, stealing her breath away, but worse than that, it was also threatening to steal her common sense.
Double fudge.
She tore her gaze away from him. It was a bad mistake to think she could look at him while talking. Really bad. This time, she stared hard at the wall as she asked, “Were those papers your excuse, alibi – whatever you want to call it – so you can hang out here?”
“Yes.”
The way Gian didn’t even hesitate to confirm it made her heart pinch.
“So you were just playing with me then?” she asked dully.
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her fists clenched. “Are you even an executive here or was that a lie as well? Maybe you’re not even working here---” Her head jerked up when it took Gian too long to answer, and she gasped in mortification when she saw the discomfort in his gaze. “Oh my God, you don’t even working here?” And then she remembered something, the fact that the photocopying room was directly connected to the company’s stock room, where all unused and spare office supplies were.
She gasped again.
Gian frowned. “Vivi, will you please stop jumping to conclusions---”
She interrupted him, crying out, “Have you been stealing company supplies all this time?”
“What? No! That’s ludicrous.” He shook his head. “This is going nowhere. If you’ll just let me explain---” His phone rang, and Gian stopped speaking.
“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly, “but I need to call security on you.” She might be infatuated with him, but it was possible that he was trespassing or even stealing company property. She owed it to the people paying her wages to do what was right.
“I don’t have time, Vivi. Just let me explain before I go---”
She covered her ears as she stomped towards the door, heart beating hard at the thought that he could reach out to her and stop her from leaving. It should have been a distressing thought, but her stupid body was actually stirring to life at the prospect.
She flung the door open just as she heard him curse under his breath before answering his phone. His voice, however, was gentle when he answered, “Ciao, principesa.”
Her face whitened.
Great. Not only had he been lying to her, but he also had a girlfriend on the side as well? She didn’t have to be fluent in Italian to know that the endearment he had used – and in that sweet tone even – meant ‘princess.’ Whoever he was talking to obviously meant more to him than her, his “Vivi.”
Vivian’s eyes blinked rapidly as she forced herself to march down the hallway in search for security. She was not going to cry over Gian or whatever that jerk’s name was. She was going to consider this as another experience in life, another lesson to be learned to make her stronger.
But she was not going to cry over him.
She was not.
When she finally returned with a security officer, it was to find the photocopying room empty and without a single piece of evidence of his presence. The papers were gone, and even the photocopying machine’s data history had been deleted.
“He was just here…” But of course he would have made his escape. “What if he’s stolen something?” she asked numbly.
“I’ll check the CCTV cameras and let you know what we find out,” the officer assured her. “Don’t blame yourself for this. Even if it turns out something’s been stolen, it wasn’t your fault.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “Are you going to be okay?”
She managed a nod.
“You don’t need to continue with your job for tonight, you know. The company has rules for incidents like this, and you can leave if you want, and you’ll still get paid your entire wages for the night.”
She shook her head slowly. “I’m okay.” She did feel a little bit weird, a little bit stressed out, and more than a little bit crazy at how things had turned out, but she was…okay.
Right?
****
“I know you had your man check if she was fine and that she said she was, but that is not what I’m asking,” Luca reprimanded icily. “What I’m asking is whether she looked fine and if she did not, I don’t care what reason you use – I want you to have her checked by a medical professional and make sure she is not suffering from shock or anything similar. Capisci?”
He ended the call shortly after, but only with the assurance that they could provide him with a detailed report on Vivian Day’s current condition within the hour. Luca made another call, this time to his head of security. “Something’s come up, and I want you and the rest of your team working double time on finishing your background check on Ms. Day. I want the report on my desk first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tossing his phone on the bed, he restlessly paced the length of his cabin, one of the three luxuriously designed bedrooms in Luca’s private jet. If only Eula had not fallen sick during her vacation in her Nonna’s home, he would have stayed behind to address her fears and assure her of his intentions.
But with Eula begging him to fly back to Tuscany, he had been left with no choice. He also hoped, once Vivian learned of his circumstances, she would understand why he had to choose his daughter over her.
If she did not, then she was not the woman he thought she was.
But if she did---
Then she was the woman he had waited an entire year to appear in his life…
The woman he would hire to be his wife and a mother to Eula.
Chapter Two
Monday. It wa
s the first day of the week, and as far as Vivian was concerned, it was also the beginning of a new chapter in her life. A chapter that was absolutely a Gian-free zone, she clarified firmly to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
“Got that?”
From the hallway, Maggie called out, “Are you talking to yourself again?”
“Nope.”
“Because I totally heard you, and it seems like you were warning yourself not to think about Mr. Photocopy.”
Ugh. Her roommate knew her too well.
Still, she lied, hollering out, “You heard wrong!” Then she quickly slammed the door shut before Maggie could get another word in. It took her about ten minutes to shower, and then just another five to change into her cleaner’s uniform. Running a comb through her hair, she hurried to the kitchen and caught sight of her dark-haired roommate still in her pajamas, complete with bed head and sleepy-looking brown eyes. Then again, Maggie was always in pajamas since freelance writing allowed her to write from home.
“I hate you,” Vivian said without heat as she took a seat.
Maggie laughed. “I told you, just quit your job and try doing what I do.”
“I did, Maggie. But what takes you about ten minutes to write takes me an hour. At that rate, I won’t even earn half of what I do with cleaning.”
“It takes time, but you’ll improve,” Maggie said encouragingly as she poured her friend some coffee.
Flashing her a thumbs-up sign for the coffee, Vivian closed her eyes as she took a sip. So good, she thought. This was what life was all about. The little pleasures, and it was something she had learned not to take for granted.
Without opening her eyes, she mumbled, “Thanks for the pep talk, but writing isn’t just for me.” Putting her cup down, she said with a sigh, “Maybe one day, I’ll be like you and I’ll find my dream job.”
Maggie said slyly, “Which is what? To marry Mr. Photocopy and have his babies?”
Vivian turned red. “Stop calling him that, and actually, stop talking about him, too! How am I going to forget him if you keep talking about him?”
