142

142
Gianna’s POV
I hated team-building exercises. They always felt like a waste of time-forced fun designed to foster camaraderie between people who would rather just get on with their jobs. Still, our client insisted, so there I was, sitting in a circle of chairs in the middle of a conference room with Matteo beside me, his usual smirk firmly in place.
“So, we’re doing trust falls now?” Matteo leaned toward me, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “What’s next, singing campfire songs?”
I shot him a look that could’ve withered a plant. “This is important to them,” I hissed. “Try to take it seriously.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his smirk deepening. “I’m always serious. You just can’t tell because I hide it so well.”
I shook my head, fighting the urge to smile. Matteo’s charm was relentless, and lately, I’d found it harder to stay immune to it. But I wasn’t about to let my guard down, not here, not now. Not anymore.
The activity leader clapped their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone! We’re going to start with a quick icebreaker: Two Truths and a Lie. Who wants to go first?”
Matteo’s hand shot up before I could stop him.
“I’ll go,” he said, flashing the group his most disarming grin. “Let’s see… I’ve run a marathon, I’ve been skydiving, and I can play the piano.”
There were a few murmurs and a couple of skeptical looks from the team.
“You? A marathon?” one of the clients asked, raising an eyebrow.
Matteo laughed. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
The leader gestured toward the group. “Okay, take a guess. Which one’s the lie?”
“The marathon,” I said before anyone else could answer.
Matteo turned to me, feigning offense. “Wow, Gianna. No hesitation at all?”
“You once complained about walking two blocks to a coffee shop,” I pointed out.
The group erupted into laughter, and Matteo’s grin widened. “Fair enough. Yeah, the marathon’s the lie. Running’s not really my thing.”
“Shocking,” I deadpanned, but my lips twitched despite myself.
For the next half hour, I found myself relaxing more than I had in days. Matteo had a way of making people laugh, putting everyone at ease with his quick wit and easy charm. Even I couldn’t help but be drawn in, though I tried to keep my reactions subdued.
But Matteo noticed. He always noticed.
When the icebreaker was over, we moved on to a group puzzle challenge. Each team had to build the tallest tower possible using only spaghetti sticks and marshmallows. It was ridiculous, but at least it was hands-on.
Matteo and I were paired with two of the client’s junior executives, both of whom looked more amused than invested in the task.
“All right, boss,” Matteo said, turning to me with a mock-serious expression. “What’s the strategy?”
I crossed my arms, arching an eyebrow. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He grinned. “Delegation. A classic leadership move. Okay, here’s the plan-we make it up as we go.”
“That’s not a plan,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“It’s a flexible plan,” he countered, already grabbing a handful of spaghetti sticks.
Despite my better judgment, I let Matteo take the lead. To my surprise, he was more organized than I expected, quickly assigning tasks and keeping the mood light with a steady stream of jokes.
“You know,” he said as he balanced a precarious stack of marshmallows, “I think we missed our calling. We could’ve been professional spaghetti engineers.”
I snorted, which only encouraged him.
“Think about it,” he continued. “Corporate retreats, wedding decorations, avant-garde art installations. The possibilities are endless.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head.
“But you’re laughing,” he pointed out, a triumphant glint in his eye.
“Focus, Matteo,” I said, though my tone was more amused than stern.
By the time the challenge ended, our tower was still standing-barely-and Matteo was grinning like we’d just won a Nobel Prize.
“Not bad for a first attempt,” he said, brushing marshmallow dust off his hands.
“Not bad?” I echoed, giving him a skeptical look. “It’s leaning so far to the left, it’s practically horizontal.”
“Details,” he said with a shrug.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling.
As the activity wrapped up, I found myself lingering near Matteo as the rest of the group dispersed. It wasn’t intentional-or at least, that’s what I told myself.
“You know,” he said, leaning casually against the table, “you’re not half bad at this whole team-building thing.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I said, crossing my arms. “This was a one-time deal.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced.
I glanced around the room, making sure no one was within earshot. “You’re surprisingly good at this kind of thing,” I admitted reluctantly.
His eyebrows shot up. “Was that… a compliment? From Gianna Lorenzo? Somebody mark the date.”
“Don’t push your luck,” I warned, but there was no heat behind the words.
He studied me for a moment, his expression softer than usual. “You should let yourself have fun more often, Gianna. You’re allowed to relax, you know.”
I felt a pang of something-guilt? Annoyance? Maybe both. “I’m here to work, Matteo. Not to ‘have fun.'”
“You can do both,” he said simply.
I shook my head, already retreating behind my walls. “Not in my experience.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “We should get back to the hotel. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
The drive back to the hotel was quiet, the lighthearted atmosphere from earlier fading as the weight of reality settled back over me.
God.
I had let my guard down much more than I’d like to admit today. I could feel Matteo watching me, but I kept my gaze firmly on the window, my mind racing with a thousand excuses for why I couldn’t let my guard down around him.
He was good at what he did, I’d give him that. But letting him get too close-personally or professionally-was a risk I couldn’t afford. Not again.
He worked for me. And I was older than him. I couldn’t let myself forget that. Not even for a moment.