Page 25 of Glass Jawed
His voice cuts in again. “This place is legit. Chef’s actually from Naples.”
I hum a polite sound of agreement, then go back to my plate.
He doesn’t comment on the shift. Just sips his wine and leans forward. “So. Tell me about your business model project. You mentioned something about the US healthcare last time?”
I give a slight nod. “Yeah. Katie and Akshat are handling the secondary research—trend reports, competitor analysis, that kind of stuff.”
He nods, encouraging.
“And... I’m building the actual model,” I continue, a little more mechanical than before. “Potential solutions, user personas, user acquisition, pricing tiers. You know...”
“You’re doing that solo?” he cuts in, brows lifted.
“For now,” I say.
He smiles. “You’re brilliant. I already thought that before, but now I know for sure.”
I give a small, noncommittal smile and reach for my water. “Thanks.”
The word comes out clipped. Too clipped. I feel it the moment it leaves my mouth.
Lucian’s smile falters—just slightly. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to trace where he lost me.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Yeah. Just... a little tired. Long day.”
His eyes linger a little too long. I look down at my plate, pushing around the eggplant I haven’t touched since the first few bites.
“I get it,” he sighs rather heavily. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”
I look up at him, a sad smile marring his face. It stirs something in me. Maybe it’s not the time for me to provide my perspective on that night. But I could try to understand him better so that I could bring it up in a more controlled way in the future.
“I want to get to know you,” I say flatly, setting my fork down. “Because the only lasting interaction I’ve had with you was from that night. And it wasn’t a good one.”
He freezes. Not visibly. Not to a stranger. But I see it. The tiny pull of his brows, the pause of his breath.
“Not a good one,” he echoes, like it physically costs him to say the words.
“Yeah.” I meet his eyes firmly but soften my tone. “And if we’re going to sit here and get to know each other, I need to understand who you are beyond that night.”
A beat of silence. The clink of silverware on plates around us. The low murmur of conversations from nearby tables. But here, between us, it’s dead quiet.
Lucian leans back, jaw tight for a moment. Then he lets out a long breath and nods, just once.
“I’m all yours, Rohi. What do you want to know?”
EIGHT
Lucian
This is harder than I thought.
I figured I could ease my way in—charm her with daily messages, give her just enough attention without seeming desperate, offer up some truth, sprinkle in a few half-truths, and keep things light.
The only thing I’ve said that was completely, unequivocally true? I’m attracted to her. She is, indeed, beautiful and intelligent—sharp as hell. But she’s nowhere close to melting.
And what’s worse—she keeps bringing that night up. The night everything went to shit.
