ARIA

After work, I hurry to meet Appa. When I enter his flat, the enticing aroma of chicken biriyani welcomes me. My mouth waters as we sit down at the table together. Appa and I make small talk as we eat.

He coughs. "I made your favorite tonight, duwa."

I cough, too. "I noticed. Thanks, Appa."

"How's work?"

I take a bite. Keeping my expression as blank as possible, I make a conscious effort to leave out the, ahem, extracurricular activities I've been partaking in with my boss. "Good. It's pretty busy, though."

"Just... good?"

"I mean," I mutter, "I can't complain."

Well, no complaints aside from the time Manning nearly fired me and the fact that I'm still working as a PA rather than a financial analyst.

Appa frowns. "Are you able to keep up with the workload? Remember to work hard and aim high, duwa, at a place at Jackson & James. Anything less will not get you noticed by your superiors."

Grumbling, I remark, "Don't worry, Appa. I've been pulling more than my fair share at the office since day one."

Although, to be fair, Nicco really has been stepping up and pulling his weight as of late.

My father nods in approval. "In that case, keep it up, then. But do more if you can."

I force out a chuckle. "I'll try."

"Good, good. I'll be eagerly awaiting the news about your promotion."

It's kind of sad how my dad and I always have conversations where absolutely nothing of consequence is shared.

Toward the end of dinner, Appa surprises me by asking, "Can you stick around for a few minutes?"

His request is unexpected—doesn't he need to go finish packing for his flight?—but I agree to it. We reconvene in the living room, and I take a seat on the couch. That's when my father pulls out a glittery pink gift bag. It's a garish eyesore. There's even matching hot pink tissue paper poking out from the top. He hands the bag to me.

"What's this for?" I inquire tentatively. Judging from the glitter alone, it looks like a gift meant for a prepubescent girl, not a twenty-four-year-old woman. But I digress.

"Consider this my apology," he supplies, "for missing our Cornwall trip."

At this, my mouth parts slightly. The gesture stuns me. Appa has never apologized to me for anything. Missed birthdays and holidays have never meant much to him.

"Open it," my father urges.

I remove the tissue paper and find a small turquoise box with a white ribbon wrapped around it. I gasp. It's from Tiffany's. With eager hands, I pop open the lid and find a dainty gold locket inside. A thick emotion runs through me. The locket is shaped like a heart, and it looks exactly like the one I wanted for my twelfth birthday. All the other girls at Hawkins were flaunting necklaces just like it. But I never got my birthday wish because Tiffany's was too expensive, at the time, for my family.

A sting hits my eyes. "You... remembered."

Appa gives me a small smile. "I did. I hope this will make up for some of your disappointment."

His sudden show of affection is concerning. I don't know how I feel about it. Yet, there's also a part of me that wants to be less of a cynic. To simply be happy about the fact that my father cared enough to buy me a gift. It's actually quite moving.

I hate how much it means to me. Because I'm not ready to forgive him. Not for missing our Cornwall trip. Or for anything else from our strained past. A goddamn necklace is hardly enough to make up for the unhappiness he's put me through over the years.

I don't let my bone-deep discontentment show, though. I force myself to smile back and offer in gracious tones, "Thank you, Appa. The necklace is beautiful. It's what I always wanted. I hope you have a wonderful time in Shanghai. I'll miss you."

Something flickers in his dark eyes. "I'll miss you, too, duwa."

I frown.

Why does he look so... afraid?

***

NICCO

The following morning, I notice the glint of gold around my assistant's neck the moment she walks into the office. A troubled pinch appears between my brow. That is... new. Definitely new. My assistant never wears necklaces. I cannot help fixating on this piece of jewelry. Because I was not the one who gifted it to her. I would certainly never pick out something so juvenile-looking.

Why is there a fucking heart dangling from the stupid chain, anyway?

A deeply unpleasant feeling coils in my chest. I am ashamed to admit that it feels a bit like jealousy. My eyes narrow as Aria approaches me. "Good morning, Nicco."

"Morning," I grunt while staring at the offensive thing around her slim, graceful neck.

Aria frowns at my tone. "Everything okay, boss?"

"Of course," I grumble. "Everything is fine. Can you email me the notes that I will need for today's meetings?"

"Already sent," Aria hums.

"What about the reports for Accounting?"

"All ready to go."

"Ah, grazie. You are always so on top of things."

She smiles and shrugs. "I try."

"I also require your assistance with one more task."

"Sure," Aria agrees right away with an ever-efficient nod. "What do you need?"

"Help me find a new apartment," I mutter under my breath.

"I'll get on it ASAP," Aria is tactful enough not to bring up anything about my father cutting off my funds, but I can tell from the knowing gleam in her eyes that she comprehends exactly why I need to move out of my penthouse apartment into something more... affordable.

"When are you planning to break your current lease?"

"By the end of the month."

"Sounds good. Anything else you need, boss?"

Sì.

My gaze darts toward her locket again. It takes all of my self-control to refrain from asking about the necklace. It is none of my business. I am not Aria's boyfriend. I am only her—

Fuck.

What am I to her?

Confusion sets in. After Aria agreed to have dinner with me tonight, the lines separating each facet of our relationship have begun to blur. I do not know what she wants from me. All I know is that—I want her.

"No, I suppose I am good for now," I sigh. "We have covered everything I need from you."

Or have we?

Aria mentioned that she has never possessed a boyfriend. Ever. This outlier intrigues me.

There is a part of me that wonders what it might feel like to become the first man who earns the privilege of being called her one and only?

This thought sends a wash of anticipation over me. The idea pleases my sensibilities more than words can express. Determination sets in place. Our date tonight must be perfect. My girl deserves to be swept off her feet like a principessa, and I will happily spend every penny of my paycheck to make it happen. Not so long ago, she confessed to me in rather wistful tones: Must be nice to live like there's no tomorrow.

If that is what Aria wants, then that is what Aria will get.

Fuck that tacky gold heart on her necklace, I intend to give her a whole summer of unforgettable memories and no tomorrows.

And claim the real thing.

***

ARIA

It's almost 9 pm. After a long-ass day of stressful meetings, Nicco and I are finally getting ready to make our escape. I wasn't lying to Appa. Work is keeping me busy as hell. My boss and I have been busting our asses for weeks now, trying to bring in new clients and grow the assets in existing portfolios for the department. Overtime has, not surprisingly, become the norm. Twelve-to-eighteen-hour shifts, I've come to discover, seem to be our new standard.

Appa was right about everyone striving to "work hard and aim high" for their jobs. No one bats an eye about scheduling emergency Zoom meetings on weekends or replying to "urgent" emails that were sent out at 4 am. That's the company culture. This is what it means to sell your soul to The Man.

Feeling bleary-eyed from staring at my laptop since 7 am, genuine relief courses through me when I follow Nicco out of the lobby. Clicks from my stilettos echo his footsteps. Outside, the skies are dark, but the evening is just starting to come alive. Millions of speckled lights illuminate the cityscape. My gaze sweeps around us. It's nice to feel an actual breeze on my face again after breathing in dead office air all day.

Up ahead, Nils Junior is already waiting by the curb. Nicco opens the car door for me, as he always does, and helps me into the backseat of his Bentley.

"Thank you," I mumble.

He smiles. "No need to thank me. You are mia principessa, no? I live to serve."

Blushing, I can't help but smile, too. "Stop it, you."

Nicco kisses my cheek. "Never."

Like a starry-eyed schoolgirl, I giggle and kiss him back. My chaotic mood from the past few days has since calmed thanks to Nicco. Appa is on route to Shanghai. I haven't received any more texts—thank God—from creepy unknown numbers. Work is exhausting, but it consumes me in the best fucking way.

Much like Nicco.

My boss has been a dream come true since our illicit rendezvous in his office. I sense the shift in him. It has changed me, too. He's keeping my sanity afloat, and this newfound peace has gifted me a fresh perspective. What remains of this summer can be good for us, I think, if I simply let it happen. In theory, a relationship like ours that breaks boundaries left and right should be toxic as fuck, but, somehow, it's not, it's amazing, and it's working, at least, for now.

For now, I guess caution can be tossed to the wind.

What's the worst that can happen, anyway, if I let myself live a little?

Unable to help myself, I kiss Nicco again.

"Where to?" Nils Junior asks with an awkward cough.

Grinning shamelessly, Nicco wraps his arm around me and replies, "Le Brittany."

"Of course, sir," Nils Junior murmurs. He steps on the gas, and we're off to dinner.

The restaurant is Michelin-starred and located in Notting Hill. I suspect it's hella exclusive. Le Brittany is the sort of upscale establishment where sommeliers suggest wine pairings for each dish and waiters wear tuxedos and white gloves. I have no idea how Nicco managed to secure a reservation on such short notice. I feel slightly underdressed in my work clothes. Like Cinderella being swept away to the ball without a makeover from her fairy godmother. But I won't lie. I'm pretty excited. Tonight may be the first time I'm going on a real date with a guy I actually care about.

The car speeds forward. Nicco's phone rings. He answers it. "Pronto."

With ease, my boss switches completely to Italian. Curiosity gets the better of me.

I wonder who might be on the other end?

I listen carefully. My Italian is abysmal at best, but I took a year of Latin back at Hawkins, the two languages share some similarities, so I try my best to pick up on what I can.

I think the man he's talking to might be named... Monte?

Nicco's hand finds my leg in the middle of their conversation. His thumb starts caressing my inner thigh. Light circles kiss my skin. It's distracting, to say the least. I pull in a sharp breath as my nerves tighten with pleasure. I don't want Nils Junior to hear me, and I want to focus on Nicco's phone call.

Easier said than done.

I hear Manning's name pop up, followed by "trentesimo," which reminds me of "tricesimus."

I think Nicco might be telling Monte about Manning's company dinner on the 30th?

Nicco doesn't miss a beat as he keeps up his conversation on the phone, but, occasionally, his fingers trail up toward the lace of my panties. He brushes against my folds, teasing me again and again. His touch is so light and fleeting that it almost seems accidental. Almost.

My body feels hot and needy when we arrive at the restaurant.

Nicco shoots me an all too innocent look suggesting that he's well aware of his effect on me. "You appear a bit... flushed. Would you prefer to skip dinner?"

Like a shadowy moth drawn to a brilliant flame, my eyes linger on the way Nicco's broad shoulders and perfectly chiseled frame fill out his suit. A pleasurable tension continues to simmer between us. I know, all too well, how the toned, muscled body hiding under his pristine, tailored exterior thrums with strength and power. He's the definition of sex wrapped in sin. As I proceed to eye-fuck my very fuckable boss, I'm almost tempted to say "yes," but then my stomach answers for me with a loud, growly rumble.

Nicco chuckles. "Or maybe not."

I grin sheepishly. "Maybe not."

Nicco helps me out of the car and leads me into the restaurant. Right as we enter, he presses his lips to my neck, sending lovely shivers across my skin, and murmurs in affectionate tones, "Ready for a night you will never forget?"

Charmed, I mumble back, "I think so. You didn't have to go above and beyond, though. I feel spoiled."

For some reason, his gaze darts toward the necklace that Appa gave me. He glares at the locket as though it offends him.

Annoyance flashes across his green eyes, but it disappears so quickly that I wonder if I imagined it?

Weird.

"I have no choice but to spoil you," he counters softly. "You are worth the stars above and the moon beyond."

My breath hitches. The poetics that spill from his mouth are absurd, I know it in my head, but my heart is eating it all up. It's bloody ridiculous—how weak Nicco makes me feel. A blush colors my cheeks. "You don't have something crazy planned tonight, do you?"

Nicco winks. "You will see."

The hostess greets us with a friendly smile. Instead of seating us at a table, however, she brings out an array of to-go boxes. "For you, Mr. Vitale, and your girlfriend."

I protest, "Actually, I'm not his girl—"

Gently, Nicco cuts me off, "Hush, Aria. We have to go soon."

My eyebrows rise. "We're not eating here?"

Nicco grins. "No, we are not. I want to take you somewhere else. We will eat there."

"Why?"

"It has a better view." He grabs our food. "Come."

Somewhat dazed, I follow him outside. We climb back into the Bentley. Nicco gives Nils Junior the address to our next destination. I frown. The location sounds like it might be close to the airport. Butterflies fill my stomach.

Beside me, Nicco removes the tie from his collar.

I demand, "What are you doing?"

"Making sure that you will be properly surprised."

Smirking, he raises the piece of fabric, eye level, to my face, and his intentions are soon clear. Pursing my lips, I chide, "If I let you blindfold me, you better not kidnap me."

He kisses away the pout on my lips. "You can trust me."

Fuck me but I'd probably let Nicco do anything to me at this point. I don't resist when the smooth, cool silk of his tie wraps around my head, and everything around me disappears. My other senses come alive as my sight turns black. Ears perk up with the sound of the car engine. Nostrils flare with the scent of Nicco's cologne. I want to know, so badly, what Nicco has planned up his sleeve. We drive for a while before the car finally slows to a stop. Nicco grasps my hand and guides me out of the car. He removes the blindfold from my eyes. I blink as my vision readjusts to my new surroundings. Bright lights shine across a vast expanse of tarmac. We're definitely standing on a runway of sorts.

Then, I notice what's waiting in front of us.

I gasp, "Is that a helicopter?"

"But of course."

"A helicopter for... us?"

"Indeed."

Disbelief runs through me. "Are you seriously taking me on a fucking helicopter?"

Nicco bows his head as though this is totally normal for a first date. "Sì."

My pulse starts racing with excitement.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

This is going to be fucking epic. I don't know if my heart is ready to take flight, but, for once, I don't fucking care. I just want to let loose.

And touch the stars above.

And reach for the moon beyond.

With Nicco by my side.