Vincent Luciano (P.O.V.)
I was now at the meeting that I had scheduled for today. However, mixed with the intense pressure on my love life and the hangover I was yet to get over, I could not concentrate one bit on what was currently going on, but I continued to try my best to keep up with what is being said.
"The plans for the hotel in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, have gone accordingly. Both our construction team and the town mayor have approved the blueprints. I have the estimated budget here and if you approve, you may sign, and we could start the construction by next week."
I looked up from my phone to see a few nervous pairs of eyes blinking at me. I turned to my wild-haired assistant, Liam, who had the same apprehensive expression on his face. I may have forgotten that I was in the middle of a meeting. Which is bad because I have no idea what we are talking about.
I cleared my throat.
"If my mother agrees to it, then we can go along with it."
"Uh, Vincent, your mother said for you to oversee this," Liam whispered to me.
Well crap.
"If we go to her she will scold us."
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
Were they still talking about the building of the hotel resort in Trinidad and Tobago? Or did we moved on to something else? I could not concentrate today.
It was all that girl Riley's fault.
It has been a week and she had yet to call me. Every few seconds I glanced at my phone wondering if I would see it vibrating with an unknown number on display.
What was taking her so long anyway?
I assumed that she would have called me the next day and we would have worked out a deal, but she had not and the last two times I went back to the restaurant, but she was not there.
"Mr. Luciano?"
"Ah, let me see the projected costs again," I said, hoping I could piece together everything from simply revising the budget plan.
It did not matter what I said anyway, my mother would get the final say on the plans no matter what.
When the meeting finally ended, I immediately made my way to my office to pack up my things to leave for the day. I could not wait to get home and just relax on my bed. I needed to release some tension in my muscles.
I wonder if I would be able to get a massage today.
When I got home, I found Liam waiting for me by the front door.
He held up a hand in greeting.
"How did the meeting go?"
"Boring. They do not really need me. All I say is yes or no. What are you doing here?"
"Hiding from my mom," he said, following me inside.
I raised an eyebrow at my friend.
"Couldn't you do that at your own house? Locks were invented for a reason. Why not just lock your doors?"
"She has keys."
"Change the locks." I said simply.
"She will find spare keys trust me. That woman would always find a way to have my keys," he said, shaking his head.
"She is very crazy, but she will not come here though because I think she is afraid of your mom."
I would not have been surprised to be honest. Most people were.
I definitely was.
"Just, be quiet then. Do not make any noise," I warned him.
Liam waved me off.
"I will do my own thing, Do not worry about me."
Sighing heavily, I plopped onto my couch and checked my phone.
Nothing.
Tsking, I tossed it away from me.
"You look like your prom date ditched you," Liam commented from across the room, where he had taken a seat at my computer desk after he rummaged through my refrigerator. In his hands was a newspaper he had produced from God knows where and sandwich that he oh so kindly made for himself.
So much for him not being noisy.
I gave him a moody look but realized I was just proving his point further, so I looked away.
"Why hasn't she called me yet. Ugh!?"
"Who?"
"Riley."
"The girl from the restaurant?"
I nodded.
"Well, your note was a little weird, may she is busy filling a restraining order" he informed me, opening the newspaper.
I rolled my eyes at him annoyingly. I really was not in the mood for joking around.
"I was drunk though. She knew that so at least she could have excused it."
Liam shrugged.
"Did you leave a bad tip?"
I blinked as I pondered on that night.
Did I leave her a bad tip?
I remembered writing the note, but I could not for the life of me remember writing a tip.
"I can't remember what I left her."
"Maybe it really was a bad tip."
"Hmm, well, we did have to wait half an hour for our food," I said.
She had not been a bad waitress, but not exactly the best one, either— from a professional point of view. From a personal view, it was not fair because she seemed to be running the entire restaurant by herself. I did vaguely remember her bringing me to the bathroom so I would not vomit all over the restaurant, which went beyond her responsibilities for a customer. I owed her a good tip for that, at least.
Liam flipped a page.
"The manager had her running around nonstop, give her a break. I felt tired just by watching her. If I were her, I would have walked out."
I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest.
"She said she needed money. Why wouldn't she take me up on my offer then? Perhaps she did not get fired like she expected she would."
Which reminded me, I had to call that restaurant and make sure her job was secure. She should not lose her job because of one pervert. How could anyone blame her for her actions?
The moment I would noticed that immoral man's hand on her bottom, I would been ready to sucker punch him in the gut. Fortunately, at the last second, I would remembered just exactly who I was and how I was expected to act. It was far worse for me to hit him than for her to. And I probably should not have told her to punch him, but I blamed that on my drunken state of mind.
Admittedly, I had enjoyed the sight of those dainty fists landing a rough blow on that degenerate.... for such a tiny girl, she had quite the hook.
"I am going to find her," I decided.
Waiting around for a call was not really my style, anyway.
"Do you not think you are taking this a little too far?" Liam asked.
"You know I do not have much of a choice, Liam."
"She might think you are stalking her."
Unfazed, I pulled out my phone, ready to call for some assistance.
"Someone who looks like me could never be considered a stalker."
"You have heard of Ted Bundy, right?"
I ignored him, dialing the number for Michelangelo's. After a five second long spiel by whoever answered the phone telling me they could not give out employee information, I gave them my name and they quickly changed their mind me, telling me she was most likely at her other job and easily gave me the name of the place. I was also informed of her month's suspension, and that she would not be back at the restaurant until the suspension is lifted.
I hung up the phone, a little worried about the amount of information they had given out. Sure, I needed it, but it had been a bit... too easy.
"A month suspension seems like a bit much and why in the world does she have two jobs?"
I pondered out loud as I went over to my closet to pick out a nice suit. For some reason, I felt the need to look good.
"These days you need two jobs to live on minimum wage," Liam said passively.
I decided against a suit and slipped into a navy button up and threw on a mint colored tie.
"If she is that poor then that would be even better."
"Why?" Liam asked me.
"Because that means she will be interested in the money and I would not have to be interested in her," I said.
She was the best possible candidate to be my fake girlfriend. I have been worrying about finding someone and now look at me, with the best possible candidate in mind.
It was perfect.
The longer I pretended to be in a relationship with her, the bigger the heartbreak I could pretend to experience.
I stretched, smiling widely and feeling satisfied. Today was going to be a good day.
"You are so creepy," Liam commented, in amusement.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"I only have good ideas." I said with a smirk on my face.
He chuckled, closing the newspaper, and placing it on the side table.
"What are you going to do if you actually fall in love with this girl?"
I scoffed.
"Impossible," I answered immediately.
The reasons for that were simple. Riley comes from a different lifestyle and therefore is automatically incompatible with me. It would be counterproductive to my plan on being allowed to be single and I have never been in love with anyone. I simply just do not do it. I am twenty-five years old and not once have I ever gotten my heart broken. So, what were the odds of it happening now?
All in all, there was not anything to be afraid of. When the contract is over I would have no problem saying goodbye and never seeing that girl again. Maybe even down the line we could get coffee and laugh about our fake relationship.
Liam scrutinized me for a few seconds, his lips pressed in a flat line. I do not understand why he was so worried. He was in the same boat as me. All the girls around us were the same— they wanted our money, or they wanted to say they slept with a millionaire. It was almost impossible to find someone genuine.
"Alright," he finally said.
"I know nothing can keep you from what you want to do anyway. Go hunt her down."
"Are you coming with me?" I asked.
"I would not miss this for the world."
"My car?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not really."
The keys to my recently exchanged BMW were already in my hand. I wondered what kind of expression Riley would have on her face.
One of the most elite men in America coming to look for her personally.
With such a contract to offer.
I could almost see those blue eyes widening, with a little sparkle of awe glinting in them. Her cheeks becoming rosy at the prospect of dating me— even if it is just for a ruse. Her pink lips softly parting as she gasped.
Suddenly I really, really wanted to see that expression.