Page 68 of Green Flag
She seemed to really care. But was that just because she didn’t want the limelight back on the drug trafficking?
Luca shuffled uncomfortably. “You two are dating. You’ve kept it under wraps for obvious reasons. Your relationship shows there are no troubles between Ciclati, your dad, and you, Luca. Despite what’s happened.”
Luca shoved his chair back. “No.”
That stung.
“Sorry, have you not seen this, Luca? You two are together now. I’m telling you why this is going to happen and how we will get this to work for both of you and Ciclati.”
Luca frowned, but I leaned in.
If I could trust Luca — and if I could trust anyone here it was him — a fake relationship might mean I had an ally. Someone to work with. Someone to give me an alibi.
“Everly, you need an actual music video for your single. It needs to be StormSprint related because of the documentary so… ta-da, Luca, you will be in it. The two of you will be young, cute and in love. And it will help build Ciclati’s reputation again. If Luca can see past what happened to love you, Everly, well…”
“No,” Luca said again. “Because it’s not true.”
Bile rose up my throat.
“Tell Twitter that,” she said, leaning back in her chair. She refreshed the feed; it now had nearly 200 likes and over seventy comments.
“Romeo and Juliet style,” Livie continued.
“A Shakespearean tragedy,” I told her. “That isn’t a love story. It’s infatuation.”
Her eyes held mine. “This whole damn thing is a tragedy. You’ve made your bed. Now you’ve got to lay in it. Together.”
Luca laughed and shook his head. “This is insane. My family would never believe this.”
I turned in my chair. “You could tell them it’s not real. But the rest could work. If my dad’s talking about benching you forever… maybe he’ll let you out of the contract early. If we make a spectacle of ourselves.”
Livie closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. “I did not hear that.”
But the light was back in his eyes.
“So no one can know it isn’t real,” I assured him. “No one but Livie.”
She nodded. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Luca cocked a brow at her, but she nodded. “Anyone.”
“Okay,” he said and nodded just as the door was thrown open.
My dad stood there with a large gin glass in his hand, Abbé looking over his shoulder with the brightest grin. He was buzzing, standing on his tiptoes to see the drama over his boss’s shoulder.
I tried to keep my vision on him, but Dad’s face was so red it was a spectacle that couldn’t be ignored.
“Break up,” he demanded in French. “Break up right now.”
“Non.”
“How long has this been going on?” he barked and Abbé ushered my dad into the room, shutting the door behind him.
I think Abbé could hear that his vintage bike had exploded and he’d still be ecstatic at the mayhem.
“Two months,” Livie said confidently in English.
“Since the beginning of her contract?” Dad bellowed, face as red as Luca had described, breathing like a bull ready to go for Luca in his red and green leathers.
