Page 22 of Petals and Fangs

“The view from here is amazing. You are so lucky. Living in the heart of the city, surrounded by so many people,” she says, her eyes mesmerized by the view.

“I am surrounded by so many people indeed, yet it feels so lonely. Sometimes, I can't stand being here,” I answer.

“Don't be dramatic. I am always here for you, remember? I live here with you in this big city.”

“You know what I mean, though,” I say, looking out the window.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Arial asks as she looks over at me, her eyes wide open.

“Yeah. I'm fine.”

“When was the last time you went on a date, Lily?”

“It's been a while,” I tell her.

“That I know of. My point is that we should find you someone to have a fun with.”

“I don't know about that.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know. I guess I am just not ready for a relationship right now.”

“Any potential, romantic interactions with the new Rothschild guy?” Arial asks, smirking and winking.

“Ethan? God, no,” I say and look away. My mind wanders to our intimate interaction on top of his desk earlier today.

“Are you sure? He's single, hot, and extraordinarily rich. The perfect recipe.”

“I told you I'm not interested. And besides, you should not be talking about him like that. I am just a contractor at his company now. Plus, he really isn't my type.”

“Oh, come on, Lily.”

“What?”

“Are you sure he was the one you've met? The man is every woman's type. He's perfect,” she says, giggling.

“I didn't know you followed the news.”

“I don't have to. I see him occasionally. The last time I saw him, he was driving a Mercedes, in a dark suit. Do you think any regular man in New York can afford that?”

“I didn't know you were into cars, Arial. You keep surprising me,” I say.

“I have also been told he owns yachts and takes yearly trips to Monaco. I'm just saying.”

“Wow. You really do love gossip,” I whisper.

“See. Even you are impressed. So, now that you are working for him, you-“

“With him.”

“Excuse me?” she asks, confused.

“I'm not working for him, Arial. I am working with him. He's not my boss. I am a contractor.”

“Whatever. The point is that you will see him a lot more now. You are foolish if you don't give it a chance.”

“He is not my type, Arial,” I answer.

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