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Gianna’s POV
Back in the city, it felt like everything should have gone back to normal. The trip was behind us, and with it, the long nights, the rooftop wine, and Matteo’s surprising kindness. We were back in our element: the office, the routine, the emails that never stopped. It was safe here, predictable.
And yet, I found myself glancing at my office door more often than necessary, half expecting Matteo to walk through it with one of his disarming comments or an unsolicited opinion about my latest report.
He didn’t.
Instead, he kept his distance, but not in the way I expected. Matteo had always been everywhere, his presence big and loud, demanding attention. But now, he was more subtle, almost… careful. And it was driving me insane.
It was barely past nine. I was hunched over my desk, scanning through the latest client proposal, when there was a soft knock at my door.
“Come in,” I called, not looking up.
A cup of coffee slid onto the corner of my desk, accompanied by a familiar voice. “You looked like you needed it.”
I glanced up to find Matteo standing there, his tie slightly askew, a casual smirk on his face.
“Coffee? Is this some kind of peace offering?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just being a good worker,” he replied.
“Hmm,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’ve never brought me coffee when we’re…here.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
Before I could retort, he was gone, leaving me staring at the cup like it was a puzzle I couldn’t quite solve.
I was in a meeting with our accounting manager, Martin, when I accidentally mixed up two client accounts from the trip. It wasn’t a huge mistake, but Martin wasn’t exactly known for his patience. My stomach sank as he fixed me with one of his trademark disapproving stares. It didn’t matter that I was his boss, he had been working with my father before I took over and he is a major shareholder in the company. He had never liked the fact that I was the one who took over, And now…this.
Before I could stumble through an apology, Matteo spoke up. “Actually, Martin, I think Ms Lorenzo was referring to the Johnson account. It’s an easy mix-up since they’re both in the same sector.”
I blinked at him, stunned. Matteo never corrected me in meetings. If anything, he usually reveled quietly in my mistakes, laughing under his breath. But today, he’d stepped in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Martin grunted something about “double-checking details” before moving on, and I shot Matteo a quick glance. He didn’t look at me, his expression calm and focused, as though nothing had happened.
The meeting didn’t last long after that and I began to pack my things, ready to go back to my office and lock myself in, when I heard him.
“Gianna, wait up.”
I was halfway out the door when Matteo’s voice stopped me. I turned to see him jogging to catch up, his coat slung over one arm.
“What is it now?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
“I wanted to see if you had time to go over the Johnson proposal tomorrow morning,” he said. “You’re better at catching the finer details.”
I frowned, my defenses immediately rising. “You want my help?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice. “You’re my boss. Plus I’ve always valued your input. I just don’t always say it out loud.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered.
His smile softened, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “Have a good night, Gianna.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing in the lobby, my emotions a tangled mess.
*The next day*
I walked into the office determined to keep my distance. Matteo could play whatever game he wanted, but I wasn’t going to fall for it.
That resolve lasted all of two hours.
I was in the break room, refilling my water bottle, when Matteo walked in. He gave me a casual nod before heading to the coffee machine.
“Morning,” he said, his tone easy.
“Morning,” I replied, keeping my voice clipped.
He didn’t say anything else, but as he poured his coffee, I caught him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” I asked, more sharply than I intended.
“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You just seem… tense.”
“Tense?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not tense.”
“Of course not,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re always perfectly composed.”
I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just here to annoy me?”
“Neither,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m just making conversation.”
“Well, don’t,” I snapped, grabbing my water bottle and marching out of the room.
It didn’t take time for me to start regretting my outburst. Matteo hadn’t done anything wrong-if anything, he’d been surprisingly pleasant. But that was the problem. His kindness felt too… calculated, too deliberate. It was like he knew exactly how to get under my skin, and I hated how effective it was.
As I sat at my desk, pretending to focus on the Johnson proposal, a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, bracing myself.
Sure enough, Matteo stepped inside, a folder in his hand.
“I thought you might want this,” he said, placing the folder on my desk.
I glanced at it, then back at him. “What is it?”
“The updated client notes,” he said. “I figured they’d be useful for your review.”
I frowned. “Since when do you do my work for me?”
“It’s not your work,” he said, his tone calm. “It’s our work. And I know you’ve been juggling a lot lately, so I thought I’d help.”
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When it didn’t come, I felt a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name-gratitude, maybe, or something dangerously close to it.
“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended.
He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. “Anytime.”