The Chemistry of Love(42)

“I’m Marco.” He introduced himself to my best friend, and I felt stupid for not jumping in right away. I should have made those introductions. Maybe I would have been more up on my social graces if I wasn’t so busy trying to keep the molecules in my skin from spontaneously combusting.

“Catalina,” she said. He offered his right hand, but she said, “Oh, I’m a hugger!” Marco released me to hug my best friend, and I tried to secretly rub my palm on the back of my jeans so no one would know that I’d been in danger of drowning Marco with my hand sweat. She hugged him for a bit longer than what might have been considered typical and then said, “Nice to meet you. I like you already.”

She had to start things off by embarrassing me. I should have known.

“I’m assuming that means someone’s been talking me up?” His sly smirk was aggravating.

“All good things,” she assured him. “Can I get you two something to drink? Some of the guys are rolling new characters in the dining room, so we haven’t started yet.”

There were some people sitting at the dining room table, which was where they usually played their game. Other guests were standing around talking, eating the snacks that Catalina had provided.

Zhen passed by, and Catalina grabbed him by the arm like he was a life preserver. “Zhen, this is Marco, our boss. I’m going to get them a drink. I’ll be right back.”

I folded my arms across my chest so that no one would touch my somehow-still-sweaty hands ever again. “Zhen, good to see you.”

He smiled at me but was still giving Marco a fair amount of side-eye. I guessed he probably hadn’t been expecting the CEO of his company to show up to their bimonthly game. “You too, Anna.”

“How’s work?” I asked.

“Same old. We do have a lot more to do—I don’t think anyone realized how many projects you handled solo. You have big shoes to fill.”

It was an expression, I reminded myself. He wasn’t making fun of my size-twelve shoes, but I did notice Marco glancing down in my general shoe area. He was about to make a joke about my feet, wasn’t he?

“Thanks,” I said to Zhen.

“Yeah. Hey, are you guys creating a new character tonight before we start?”

“I’m not,” I said.

“I’d like to,” Marco responded, surprising me. “It seems like the kind of thing a boyfriend would do. Roll a character to participate in his girlfriend’s best friend’s game.”

I had an internal freak-out at his casual use of the word girlfriend. Like, obviously that was the plan, but I felt unprepared for its usage.

My former coworker didn’t seem to notice how stilted Marco’s declaration was. Instead, Zhen’s eyes had gone wide, and he glanced back and forth between us like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult equation that just wasn’t adding up for him.

I understood.

He cleared his throat and said, “Come on over and join us. We’ll get you set up. Good seeing you, Anna.” He left, and Marco was still looking down at the floor.

I said, “They’re smaller than yours. By a lot.”

“What?”

“My feet.”

“What about your feet?” he asked, the picture of innocence.

“You were—never mind.” It wasn’t worth arguing about if he was going to play dumb. Or maybe I was making mountains out of molehills again.

“I’m going to go make a character. Will you be okay on your own?”

Aw. It was sweet of him to ask. I mean, most men would have assumed that I’d be fine, considering I was at a party surrounded mostly by people I knew. But Marco seemed to get it. “Yes.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised. Then he paused and got that wolfish grin that let me know he was up to no good. “It’s a good thing to know which fairy tale you wouldn’t be the star of.”

There it was. That was a Cinderella jab. I wanted to run my sweaty palm all over his stupid face. Well, his face wasn’t stupid. It was gorgeous. But the principle still stood.

Yes, I had big feet, but I could be Cinderella! I was in love with a prince! Well, a millionaire, and in this day and age, wasn’t that basically the same thing?

I could be the princess in my own love story. I mean, I didn’t need a prince to rescue me. It was coincidental that Craig had money. I did want the fairy tale, though. The happily-ever-after aspect. I knew it could happen. Like it had for my parents.

He left, and all I wanted to do was find a place to hibernate for the rest of the evening. I wished I had an escape hatch, but leaving would defeat the entire purpose of coming here in the first place.

Catalina had a little nook / window seat in her living room, and I headed over to sit. I settled onto the cushion and looked at the windows. They were painted shut. Which was probably a good thing so that I wouldn’t consider using them to make a potential getaway.

I flexed my right hand because it was literally still tingling from where Marco had touched me. Like some kind of phantom imprint that I couldn’t shake off. Real but not real.

This was the first night. The. First. Night. How was I going to keep this ruse up for any length of time?

I currently did not have a single drop of alcohol in me, but even I had to admit that I was attracted to Marco. I tried reminding my hormones that I loved Craig, but they did not care.