Chapter 20 Collision course
Melissa’s POV
The Uber pulled up outside Marcello’s, the Italian restaurant Aria had picked. Warm light spilled through the windows, and I could already smell garlic and wine from the sidewalk.
I stepped out of the car, tugging down my black dress. I’d changed three times before settling on this simple, dark, and hopefully giving off “I have my life together” dress.
Aria was already at a corner table, her purple hair pulled up in a messy bun. She waved when she saw me, and relief washed through me.
“There she is!” Aria stood to hug me. “You look gorgeous but also like you need alcohol immediately.”
“That obvious?”
“Babe, I can read you like a book.” She flagged down a waiter before I’d even sat down. “Can we get a bottle of the best red wine in the house? Actually, make it two.”
The waiter’s eyebrows raised slightly but he nodded. “Right away.”
I slumped into my chair. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I know.” Aria leaned forward, studying my face. “Okay, spill. What’s with the gloomy energy? Did something happen with Troy again?”
“No, thank God. He’s been quiet since…” I touched my neck instinctively. The bruise from his bite had faded to a yellowish-green,that I easily covered with makeup. “Since Ethan intervened.”
“Then what? School? That marketing project?”
“Worse.” I groaned. “I got five job rejections. Five, Aria.”
“Oh, babe.” Her expression softened. “I’m sorry. Those people are idiots for not hiring you.”
“That’s not even the worst part.” I waited while the waiter returned with our wine, pouring two generous glasses. The moment he left, I took a long drink. “My mom came to my room today. She said Gavin mentioned the Titans are hiring for their media department.”
Aria’s eyes widened. “Wait, the New York Titans? His team?”
“Yeah.”
“Melissa, that’s amazing! That’s literally your dream—”
“I told her no.”
Aria blinked. “You what?”
“I said no. I don’t want his help.”
“Why the hell not?” She set down her glass. “Babe, this is the opportunity you’ve been dying for. Do you know how many people would kill for that?”
“I know.” My fingers tightened around my wine glass. “But I can’t work for him, Aria. I just… I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Because being near him made me forget how to breathe. And also I’d almost let him fuck me on his desk two days ago.
“It’s complicated,” I said instead.
“Complicated how?” Aria leaned forward. “Mel, I get that you want to stay away from him but there is no shame in using resources available to you.”
“It’s not about shame.”
“Then what is it about?”
I took another long drink of wine, avoiding her eyes. “Things are just… weird between us. Between me and Gavin.”
“Weird how?”
“Just weird.”
Aria studied me for a long moment. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re letting whatever weirdness exists stop you from taking a huge career opportunity. And that’s stupid.”
“Aria—”
“No, hear me out.” She topped off both our glasses. “So things are awkward with your future stepdad. So what? You’re an adult. He’s your boss in this scenario, not your family member. You can keep it professional. Take the job, build your portfolio, and use it as a stepping stone to bigger things.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is simple. You’re the one making it complicated.” She raised her glass. “Take the job, Mel. Don’t let pride or awkwardness cost you your dream.”
I wanted to argue and explain all the reasons why working for Gavin was a terrible, dangerous, impossible idea.
But she was right about one thing—this was my dream. And I’d already been rejected five times today.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
“That’s my girl.” Aria clinked her glass against mine. “Now let’s get drunk and forget about all our problems.”
We did exactly that.
By the time we’d finished the first bottle and started on the second, everything felt fuzzy and warm. Aria was telling me about her plans for her next art collection, and I was laughing at her dramatic hand gestures.
“And then,” she said, her words slightly slurred, “Vincent Kane’s assistant called me directly. His assistant, Mel. Like I’m somebody important.”
“You are somebody important.”
“Damn right I am.” She raised her glass. “To being important!”
“To being important!” I echoed, my own words coming out a little thick.
The restaurant had filled up around us. The low hum of conversation and clinking silverware created a comfortable buzz. For the first time all day, I felt relaxed.
“I need to pee,” I announced, standing up. The room tilted slightly. “Whoa.”
“You good?”
“I’m great. I’m fantastic. I’m—” I steadied myself against the table. “I need to pee.”
Aria laughed. “Go. Don’t fall.”
I navigated through the restaurant toward the bathroom, concentrating very hard on walking in a straight line. The wine had definitely hit harder than I’d expected.
The bathroom was at the back, down a short hallway. I pushed through the door and took care of business, then spent an embarrassing amount of time washing my hands and staring at my flushed face in the mirror.
You’re drunk, I told my reflection. Very drunk.
My reflection nodded in agreement.
I dried my hands and headed back out into the hallway.
I turned the corner too fast, my mind still fuzzy from wine, and collided with something solid.
Strong hands caught my shoulders, steadying me before I could fall.
“Whoa, easy there.”
I looked up into green eyes and a face that belonged on magazine covers. Dark hair fell artlessly across his forehead, and when he smiled, it was the kind of smile that had probably gotten him out of trouble his entire life. He was gorgeous.
“Sorry,” I said, steadying myself. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Clearly.” His hands dropped from my shoulders, but he didn’t step back. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just a little wine.” I gestured vaguely. “My friend’s here somewhere.”
“Good. Can’t have pretty girls wandering around alone.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Wait. Do I know you?”
Something about him felt familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “I don’t think so.”
“You sure? Because I swear I’ve seen you before.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Columbia, maybe?”
My stomach flipped. “How did you—”
“Lucky guess.” That smile again, wider now. “I’m Jason.”
“Melissa.”
“Well, Melissa from Columbia, enjoy the rest of your night.” He stepped aside, letting me pass. “And maybe go easy on the wine. I wouldn’t want you running into any more walls.”
“It was a person, not a wall.”
“Same difference when you’re drunk.” He was already walking away, hands in his pockets. “See you around.”
I watched him disappear down the hallway, that familiar feeling nagging at me.
Where had I seen him before?