Elliot lifted a shoulder. “It’s simply good planning.”
“For every contingency,” I added.
“Exactly,” he agreed.
Weston let out a sigh. “Is everything else going well? Happy wife, happy life?”
“Yeah, all is well on the marriage front.” I smoothed my tie, only half-guilty at the lie I kept telling these two men. “Being married to Saoirse is easier than I ever expected.”
That part wasn’t a lie.
“I’m glad. There aren’t many women like Saoirse out there.” Weston pointed his chopsticks at me. “But if you could tell your wife to stop poaching my employees, that would be great. I’m already losing Miles to her. She can’t take any others.”
I shot him a bemused grin. “What do you mean?”
He waved me off, picking up a piece of sushi. “I’m only kidding. To be honest, I haven’t seen Miles as enthusiastic and committed to anything since they started planning their business. I don’t want to do anything to dampen that. If they want to take Simon and Rebecca, they can have them. Although, I draw the line at Elise. She’s staying at Andes.”
In the back of my mind, I remembered Saoirse vaguely mentioning working on something with Miles, but that was all it was. Vague.
I worked hard at schooling my expression. If Elliot or Weston had any idea how out of touch I was with my own wife, they would know none of this was real.
But it wasn’t confusion I had to work to fight off. It was disappointment.
Not in Saoirse but in myself.
I shouldn’t have been sitting across from my best friends, learning important information about my wife from them. I obviously hadn’t made it clear to Saoirse that I was interested in more than fucking her.
We were in this thing together.
And what kind of teammate was I to not know what was going on with my other half?
A shit one.
We’d be talking tonight.
Chapter Thirty
Saoirse
I was in the den reading a book when Luca arrived home. Instead of going directly upstairs like he normally did, he startled me by popping his head in.
“Hey.”
I lowered my Kindle. “Hello, you.”
Luca was yanking his tie loose from his throat. With his hair slightly disheveled and the thick stubble lining his jaw, he was a sight for sore eyes. I’d gotten used to our too-brief meetings during the day. He hadn’t been free today, and I’d been surprised at how fiercely disappointed I’d been when he’d told me.
I’d missed him.
“Did you eat dinner?” he asked.
“I did. You?”
“I ate at my desk.” He drummed his fingers on the doorway’s molding. “I’m going to get changed then head down to the studio.”
His usual routine, though stopping to tell me his plans was new. “Okay. Have fun.”
He paused, sweeping his gaze over me. “Join me?”
“In your studio?”
“Yeah. You can bring your Kindle. Hang out with me for a while.”
I hopped up from the couch before he finished asking. “Yes. Yes, I want to.”
He did another sweep of me, and from the way his eyes went heavy-lidded, I remembered I was wearing my pajamas—a tiny pair of shorts and a cami.
I grinned. This man had seen me naked and bent in half, so it both amused and pleased me he was affected by what I wore. “I’ll change too.”
He grunted. “Good idea.”
Luca put me on the love seat in his studio, and he sat on a stool with a big drawing pad in his lap, facing me.
“What are you drawing?” I asked.
“You, so don’t move.”
I burst out laughing. “No, really.”
“Really. I’ve been trying to draw you using a picture, but I haven’t gotten it right. You’re going to be my live model.”
I tilted my head, trying to read how serious he was. “Are you joking?”
“Not joking.” He flipped the page of his drawing pad, holding it up for me to see the sketch. I recognized myself immediately, and my heart stuttered. He really had been drawing me. “It’s not my best work.”
My eyes rounded. “You drew me. No one’s ever drawn me.”
“Shame,” he muttered. “You’re art in motion. You deserve to be committed to canvas for eternity.”
“Luca…” My heart had traveled up to my throat. How did this man manage to keep surprising me?
“Tell me about the business you’re starting with Miles.”
My mouth fell open at the abrupt change of subject. “What?”
He tapped the eraser of his pencil on his pad. “Weston mentioned you poaching his employees. Imagine being me, having no earthly idea what he was talking about. I sit in this studio at night, trying to capture your image. I spend an hour a day inside you. But I don’t know you.”
“You want to?”
“Of course I do. I’m sorry if I never made that clear.”
I rubbed my lips together, vulnerable under his close scrutiny. “It’s not like I’ve been exactly open with you about what Miles and I are planning. Part of me still can’t believe we’re really doing this. If he weren’t involved in it with me, I’m sure I would have given up on it already.”
“Weston said he’s enthusiastic.”
“He is.” I put my Kindle down and leaned my elbows on my knees. “We’re going to start a business consulting company. New businesses will come to us, and we’ll build plans for their launch. We’ll also rework current businesses that need help.”
I told him everything Miles and I had discussed. The spaces we’d looked at for our offices. The budget we’d worked out. Miles’s monetary contribution. Our roles in the company. Luca listened to me intently, nodding along as I spoke.
He asked me questions, not as a challenge, but as if he truly wanted to know more. And as I explained in deeper detail, I gained confidence in the direction Miles and I were going.
“It’s a big risk,” I said.
“And commitment.” He set his drawing pad aside and crossed the room to sit beside me.
“Yes. A bigger commitment than I’ve ever made.” I almost said except for marrying you, but that wasn’t true. We had an expiration date. Running a business wouldn’t.
“It means you’ll be staying in Denver.”
I nodded. “Well, we could really work with businesses anywhere, but…yeah. Our home base will definitely be here, and at least in the beginning, our focus will be here too.”
He reached over and picked up a lock of my hair, absently running it between his fingers. “No more bouncing around jobs.”
“I don’t think I’ll be bored. We’ll constantly be doing something new.”
“Do you know when you’ll be launching?”
“We haven’t decided yet. We want to make sure we’re truly ready before we begin. Although Kenji told me he’d be our first client, so…”
He huffed, “Kenji,” then muttered something about his stupid tattoos. I had to stifle my grin at his territorialism—not jealousy.
“Tell me you’ll be charging Kenji.”