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The Chemistry of Love(49)

Author:Sariah Wilson

“I’m probably past the point in my life where I could play professional sports. Also, do your sports homework.”

“I’ll do my sports homework,” I promised. “You could do something else, though. Isn’t there anything you’d like to try?”

He took my question seriously, pondering it. “I always thought I’d like to do what my great-grandfather did—start my own company and make it successful. But I won’t. Like I said, my career’s already been laid out for me.”

“That seems a little sad,” I told him as I took my turn.

“Enough about me,” he said. “What about you and your secret project? I’ve really wanted to know what you’re working on.”

There was a burning desire to tell him. I knew I could trust him. So I did. “Keep this between us—I’m developing a lipstick that changes colors based on body temperature and pH.”

“Doesn’t that already exist?”

“The kind you’re thinking of is static. They respond to an individual’s pH, but the color doesn’t change once it’s applied. There’s also one brand that changes from external temperatures. Mine will respond to temperature shifts, but it will also change colors depending on the person’s physical reactions.”

“A mood ring lipstick,” he said, quickly putting our conversation from Catalina’s party together with what I was talking about. “That’s so brilliant. I can’t believe no one’s thought of it yet.”

His words warmed me. “There should be an issue with toxicity from the thermotropic liquid crystals, but I’ve found a work-around.”

He leaned forward, excited. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“No, Mr. Competitor. Because it will work due to a proprietary combination of ingredients. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret.” And then every cosmetic company in the world would copy me.

“You know, I could just reverse engineer it from that list you gave my assistant.” At my expression, he hurried to add, “But I won’t! I’m completely joking. Although, can you imagine a product with this level of innovation being undone by a shopping list?”

He sounded so impressed, and that made me feel ridiculously proud. “You think it will be successful? I haven’t found the right solidifying agent yet, but I think I’m close.”

“You will find it, and you’re going to make a fortune, Anna.”

Why did his approval mean so much to me? “Someday. When I save up enough.”

“You know, you don’t have to save all the money yourself to start a makeup company. You could find an investor.” He took his turn, landed on one of my planets, and gave me the credits he owed.

“Where would I find an investor?” I asked, adding his money to my ever-growing pile. “Is there some Investors R Us downtown that I don’t know about?”

“I happen to be related to one. Who already owns a makeup company.”

“Your dad?”

“I could get you on his schedule.”

I shook my head, unable to believe that this was actually happening. “What does that even entail? I’m pretty sure it’s not showing up at his office and saying, Hi, can I have some money, please?”

“It is more detailed than that,” he said. “But I could help you.”

“Why?” I seriously didn’t understand why he’d stick out his neck for me like that.

He frowned slightly, like now he was the one confused. “I want you to be happy, Anna. I want you to succeed.”

But again I asked, “Why?”

He gave me this look, one that I couldn’t have explained to someone else, but I felt it in my gut.

Then he said he was going to get another drink and asked if I wanted one. I told him I was fine, and he went into the kitchen.

Only I wasn’t fine. Not even a little. That exchange left me shaky and unnerved, and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself or how to process what had just happened.

Because much as I tried to deny it, something was happening here.

But when he came back, he was full of smiles and jokes again, and it was a relief. He started chatting about Craig, about his likes and dislikes. I asked specifically if Craig liked any of my favorite movies, and Marco shook his head.

“It may be better not to bring them up. He’s never been into that kind of stuff.”

I leaned against the couch, surprised. “I can’t talk about some of my favorite things with him?”

He shrugged in a way that might as well have said, Your fault for being the one in love with him. What he actually said was, “It’s your life, Anna. I’m just trying to give you the best chance for success.”

We continued to have fun as the game went on, but that easy familiarity that had been there earlier in the evening had ebbed away a little, and he was definitely focused almost entirely on Craig and me being together.

Again, letting me know exactly where I stood with him. Friends only. Which was a good thing, I reminded myself. I needed to put aside my inappropriate crush on him.

We finally got to the end of the game, where I had mortgaged every property and had quite obviously lost.

“Go ahead,” I told him. “I know you want to brag. You earned it.”

“Without cheating,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. A few hours ago, I might have attempted a slightly illegal move because I saw that I was losing, but eagle-eyed Marco had called me on it and of course he had to bring it up now.

“I’m just curious,” he said. “Are there any games that you’re good at?”

“Do you know what your problem is?” I asked him.

He folded up the game to put it back in the box. “I can think of a couple of women who could tell you.”

“It’s that you’re not a good sport. I don’t need you making snarky comments about my defeat like some elderly balcony Muppet.”

He laughed at that, clearly getting my reference.

I added, “Gonzo is probably my favorite Muppet. In case you were wondering.” I didn’t know why that was pertinent, but I said it anyway.

“Maybe don’t bring that up on your date with Craig,” he said.

“So I can’t talk about Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, or the Muppets? I hate to tell you this, but that’s kind of my entire personality.”

“I guess you’ll have to think of it as another game.”

“Relationship games suck,” I said, crossing my arms against my chest.

“I don’t disagree with you.”

I glanced toward the window. “Hey, when did it get light outside?”

Blinking, Marco reached for his phone. “It’s seven thirty.”

“A.M.?” I clarified.

He nodded.

No wonder I’d brought up Gonzo. It was clearly due to my lack of sleep. “I can’t remember the last time I did something like this,” I told him. It might have been never. We’d had such a good time together, we’d stayed up all night and I hadn’t even noticed.

And I’d finally completed a full game of Monopoly. I’d just forget about the part where I lost.

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