“I’m going to put in the order,” Deiss says, backing up. “Zoe, do you want anything from Luigi’s?”
“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” Zoe backs off me like an invisible string is connecting her to Deiss. “I couldn’t, though. Gotta shed that vacation weight. You can make it up to me with a drink later, though.”
The corner of Deiss’s mouth curls with amusement, and I feel the first genuine shot of jealousy rip through me. “I’m supposed to make it up to you that you turned down my offer of food?”
“You offered,” she says with a flirtatious cock of an eyebrow, “the wrong thing. I’m giving you the chance to make me a better offer.”
He laughs, and a second shot of jealousy roars through me. I’m being ridiculous, though. Lucas Deiss is not my boyfriend. Maybe he really does care about me and has no intention of phasing me out after a couple of weeks like he seems to do with everyone else. That still doesn’t change the fact that we’ve been romantic for less than forty-eight hours. If he knew how protective I was feeling, he’d be horrified. I force my face to go blank.
“As much as I appreciate your generosity,” he says, “I’m going to have to pass.”
I’m concentrating so hard on keeping my face blank, I don’t even allow myself to blink.
“Too many customers?” Zoe makes a show of scanning the mostly empty store.
“I’m seeing someone,” Deiss says, glancing at me.
He looks taken aback when he catches sight of my mannequin-esque face, but I’m locked down too tight to allow expression. Do I want him telling my future partner （boss?） that I’m the person he’s referring to? Do I want him to see that I’m elated by the implication that I’m the only one he’s “seeing”？ My mask of indifference feels safest.
“Just one?” Zoe laughs and waves a dismissive hand. She’s like a stage performer, all broad gestures and commanding of space. “I figured a guy like you had at least a few of us on the line.”
“Just the one,” Deiss says. “She’s a cat person, though, so it takes up a lot of my time trying to convert her.”
“Didn’t you also tell me she’s way out of your league?” I ask innocently. “I imagine you’ll also be expending quite a bit of time on coming up with lavish dates to impress her.”
A grin spreads across his face. “I let her paint my bedroom. And I took her for fancy cocktails on Sebastian’s tab. What more could a woman want?”
“You made her do manual labor for you and had another man buy her drinks?” I flutter my hand over my heart. “Consider me misinformed. Sounds like you’ve nailed it.”
Deiss’s chin tilts up, and his grin widens. “Fine. I’ll take her out for a proper date then. Dinner and a show. French food, I suppose, and a film with subtitles. Do you think she’d like that?”
“I think she’d prefer to eat takeout on your couch,” I say. “Preferably while watching reality TV.”
“She would?” He slides past Zoe and tucks his thumb under my mouth, lifting it so he can kiss me. “That sounds perfect to me. But we’ll have time for both.”
I nod happily, buzzing too much to consider Zoe’s presence. Then I remember, and my eyes slide guiltily toward her. She twirls a lock of hair in a way that looks deliberately nonchalant.
“Oops,” she says with a shrug when our eyes meet. “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s new,” I say apologetically.
“Clearly,” she says. “I asked Deiss about you the other night, but he insisted you were just friends. It’s cute that you guys figured it out.”
“We’re cute,” Deiss says with a wink.
“Are you hoping the fried burrata is going to order itself?” Mia asks irritably. “Because it’s not.”
“Noted.” Deiss holds up his phone and pivots on one heel, then strolls toward his office.
I stare after him for a second, wishing I could follow. It seems easier than staying here with Zoe.
“Maybe we should get out of here,” I say, turning toward her.
“Your boyfriend is getting you lunch,” she says with a saccharine smile.
“He’s not . . .” I trail off, not sure how to normalize things. “I’m sorry if that was weird. It’s still really new between Deiss and me, so I’m not sure either of us knew how to address it.”