The Chemistry of Love(37)

Catalina’s way seemed much better.

I reminded myself that I was doing something now—being an actual active participant. I was going to try to win Craig over for myself.

With Marco’s help.

Again, I had to wonder how Marco was going to view this party. “A half-elf and a half-ogre, huh? At least it won’t be too weird for Marco.”

“I think you two will be bringing the weirdness all on your own.”

“It’s not that weird. Lots of people pretend to date the CEO of their former place of employment in order to get his brother to fall in love with them. Happens every day of the week, I’m sure.”

At that, Catalina laughed, and our conversation shifted to what I would wear. She was pushing for something uncomfortable and tight, while I was leaning toward jeans, tennis shoes, and a hoodie.

As we talked and laughed, it occurred to me that while Catalina had been so concerned that I would fall for Marco, not once did she say that she thought Marco would fall for me.

And that bothered me more than it should have.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


The problem with our first official date being two days away was that it gave me plenty of time to overthink and regret my decision. And just how much all of this was not going to work. Catalina was right. It was doomed to fail.

Not only that, but Marco was a bad fake boyfriend. He didn’t pretend to text or call me even once.

Okay, he did text once. It was to ask for Catalina’s address. I sent it to him and then . . . nothing.

I wanted to text him and say, Hey, remember me? The woman you’re depending on to save your company and your brother?

Why did I care so much that he hadn’t reached out?

It was all disconcerting.

I thought a diabolical plan like ours would have more, I don’t know, actual planning. Diabolical or otherwise.

The night of the D&D party, I kept myself busy creating a formulation for a new easy-glide lipstick. Lipsticks had always been my favorite thing to create, given how quickly they could go wrong in so many ways. The powder of eye shadow or blush was often more forgiving. I liked the exactness and precision of lipsticks.

An alarm sounded on my phone, and I realized that I needed to get ready for the party.

Catalina called me a few seconds after, as if she knew I was messing around in my home lab and not getting dressed.

When I picked up, she said, “What are you wearing tonight?”

“I was thinking clothes.”

“Anna! Are you wearing sweatpants right now?”

“No.” Yes.

But she didn’t believe my lie. I’d told Marco I was bad at it. “Are you going to change?” she asked.

“Yes.” Maybe. I liked being comfortable.

“I bet Marco will wear something nice.”

“Probably. Because so far, all I’ve seen him in is a suit, but that seems like overkill for D&D.”

“Poor you. I bet his best look is out of a suit,” she teased.

“I don’t know. His suits are pretty fire.” I was a fan.

My bedroom door was open, and my grandpa stuck his head in. “Whose suits are on fire?”

“Catalina? I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”

I heard her call out, “Spit out your gum!”

She knew me too well. I spit my gum into the trash and turned my attention to my grandfather. “No one’s suits are on fire. It’s just an expression.”

“Oh.” He blinked behind his spectacles, and it had always reminded me so much of an owl. “I was just reading the newspaper, and there was an article about the death of a local ornithologist.”

That made me set my mixing bowl down. “Oh no, was it someone you knew?”

“No. And apparently the police suspect fowl play.”

I groaned. Only my grandpa would come upstairs just to tell me that joke. “I love you, but you are the actual worst. You and Dad are the reason I tell dumb jokes.”

“Thank you,” he said brightly, as if I’d complimented him. “Are you going out tonight?”

Just how long had he been listening at the door? “I am.”

“With that Marco fellow?”

This felt very observant for my usually out-of-touch grandfather. “Yes.”

He nodded. “He seemed like a nice young man. I liked him. And it was easy to see that he liked you, too. Well, have fun. Don’t join any harems.”

Huh. I guess he had been listening when I was arguing with my grandma about Marco’s intentions. Maybe he was more aware of the household goings-on than I gave him credit for.

Him saying he liked Marco . . . the last guy my grandpa had approved of had been my dad, so his words seemed significant somehow.

But his declaration that Marco liked me? That was easy to ignore. Not true. A grandfather’s love making him oblivious to reality.

He whistled as he left my doorway, and I refocused my attention on tonight. I tried to figure out what I should wear. Jeans? I probably should have done laundry over the last couple of days. Instead I’d been online trying to look for a new job. That had forced me to spend time updating my résumé, and Minx was my only professional experience. It had been my first job right out of college.

Again, I missed my lab.

But I wondered if another company would hold it against me that I’d only ever worked at one place.