Louboutins & Aprons

Chapter 14:Mark

Agreeing to attend Valentina De Luca’s award ceremony had been a mistake.

Not because I didn’t want to go.

I did.

That was the problem.

I wanted to go.

I wanted to see her receive the award.

I wanted to stand beside her.

I wanted to see what she looked like when she accepted it.

And for reasons I didn’t understand, I liked the fact that she had asked me.

Out of everyone she knew—

The executives.

The investors.

The celebrities.

The powerful people she met every day—

She had asked me.

A chef.

Me.

But I wasn’t going to tell anyone that.

Especially not Daniel.

Daniel would turn it into something it wasn’t.

And unfortunately, I had made the mistake of telling him.

⸻

The restaurant had closed an hour earlier.

The kitchen was clean.

Most of the staff had gone home.

I was sitting at one of the tables near the back, drinking a bottle of water while Daniel finished counting the day’s sales.

He walked toward me with the register report in his hand.

“You look distracted.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ve been staring at the same wall for ten minutes.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

Daniel sat across from me.

“Is Valentina texting you?”

“No.”

“Did she call?”

“No.”

“Did she come to the restaurant?”

“No.”

“Then why do you look like you’re planning something?”

“I’m not planning anything.”

Daniel stared at me.

I stared back.

He waited.

I waited.

Finally, he leaned back.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Mark.”

“What?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you acting strange?”

“I’m not acting strange.”

“You’ve checked your phone six times.”

“I’m waiting for a message.”

“From who?”

“No one.”

Daniel smiled.

“Valentina.”

“No.”

“Valentina.”

“I said no.”

“She texted you.”

“She always texts me.”

“So she did text you.”

I frowned.

“That isn’t what I said.”

“It is exactly what you said.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I picked up my bottle.

Daniel leaned closer.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m drinking water.”

“You’re smiling while drinking water.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means Valentina said something.”

“She didn’t.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“I’m not.”

Daniel looked at me for several seconds.

Then he sighed.

“Fine.”

He returned to the report.

I stayed quiet.

Five seconds passed.

Then I said—

“She asked me to attend an award ceremony.”

Daniel stopped.

Slowly, he looked up.

“What?”

“An award ceremony.”

“For what?”

“She’s receiving an award.”

“What award?”

“Business Leader of the Year.”

Daniel nodded.

“That sounds important.”

“It is.”

“And?”

“She asked me to go.”

Daniel stared.

I waited.

Then he smiled.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“You’re dating.”

I almost dropped my bottle.

“What?”

“You and Valentina are dating.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You are.”

“We’re not.”

“She asked you to attend an award ceremony.”

“Yes.”

“As her plus-one.”

“Yes.”

“And you said yes.”

“Yes.”

Daniel leaned back.

“You’re dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“You’re going to a formal event together.”

“Yes.”

“You’re her plus-one.”

“Yes.”

“She asked you.”

“Yes.”

“And you agreed.”

“Yes.”

“You’re dating.”

I placed the bottle on the table.

“We are not dating.”

“Then what are you?”

“Friends.”

Daniel laughed.

I frowned.

“What?”

“You are not friends.”

“Why not?”

“Because friends don’t behave like this.”

“Like what?”

“She comes to your restaurant every day.”

“She used to.”

“She tells you she wants you.”

“She does.”

“You bring her food.”

“She forgets to eat.”

“You drive her home.”

“She injured her ankle.”

“You stayed inside her house for almost an hour.”

“She was tired.”

“You text her every day.”

“She texts me.”

“And you reply.”

“Yes.”

“You went to her house to bring her food.”

“She was hungry.”

“You’re attending an award ceremony as her plus-one.”

“She asked.”

Daniel folded his arms.

“You’re dating.”

“No.”

“You’re in a relationship.”

“No.”

“You’re seeing each other.”

“No.”

“You’re talking.”

“Yes.”

Daniel pointed at me.

“That is dating.”

“No.”

“That is exactly dating.”

“It isn’t.”

“Then what is dating?”

“I don’t know.”

Daniel stared at me.

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“You’re thirty years old.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t know what dating is?”

“I know what dating is.”

“Then explain it.”

“Two people like each other.”

Daniel smiled.

“You like Valentina.”

“No.”

“She likes you.”

“I know.”

“You bring her food.”

“She’s hungry.”

“You care about her.”

“No.”

“You’re going to her award ceremony.”

“She asked.”

Daniel placed both hands on the table.

“Mark.”

“What?”

“You like her.”

“No.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re going to wear a suit.”

I paused.

Daniel noticed.

His eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“You’ve already thought about the suit.”

“No.”

“You have.”

“I haven’t.”

“You paused.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I was thinking.”

“About the suit.”

“No.”

“Have you decided what you’re wearing?”

“No.”

“Black?”

I looked away.

Daniel gasped.

“Black.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You thought about black.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“It’s a formal event.”

“So you have thought about it.”

“Everyone would think about it.”

“Not everyone.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

I sighed.

The truth was—

I had thought about it.

Valentina had mentioned a suit.

She had said I would look handsome.

Then she had started suggesting colors.

Black.

Navy.

Gray.

She had even threatened to buy one for me.

I told her no.

Several times.

But now—

I was wondering what she would wear.

And what color would look good beside her.

That didn’t mean anything.

It was practical.

If we were attending an event together, our clothes should not clash.

That was all.

Daniel watched me.

“You’re thinking again.”

“No.”

“You’re thinking about her dress.”

“No.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“What color do you think she’ll wear?”

“I don’t know.”

“Red?”

“Maybe.”

Daniel smiled.

“You think she’ll wear red.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said maybe.”

“Because she wears red sometimes.”

“You pay attention to what she wears?”

“No.”

“You know what colors she wears?”

“Everyone knows.”

“Name one.”

“Red.”

“Another.”

“Black.”

“Another.”

“White.”

“Another.”

I stopped.

Daniel laughed.

“You know her entire wardrobe.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“She wears expensive clothes.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I don’t know what she owns.”

“You know enough.”

I looked down at the table.

This conversation was becoming irritating.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because this is interesting.”

“It isn’t.”

“You’re dating Valentina De Luca.”

“We are not dating.”

“You’re going to an award ceremony with her.”

“Yes.”

“She’s going to introduce you.”

“As a guest.”

“As her date.”

“No.”

“She’ll call you handsome.”

“She does that already.”

“She’ll hold your arm.”

“She might.”

Daniel became quiet.

Then he smiled.

“What?”

“You said she might.”

“She could.”

“You want her to.”

“No.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re going to hold her hand.”

“No.”

“You’re going to stand beside her.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll take pictures.”

“Probably.”

“With your arm around her.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because we aren’t dating.”

Daniel sighed.

“You are the most confused man I know.”

“I’m not confused.”

“You are.”

“I’m going because she asked.”

“That is your only explanation.”

“Yes.”

“She asked.”

“Yes.”

“So you agreed.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I paused.

Why?

Because she asked.

That was the answer.

But there was more.

I wanted to go.

I wanted to see her happy.

I wanted to see her receive the award.

I wanted to be there.

But I didn’t say any of that.

“She asked,” I repeated.

Daniel stared at me.

Then he nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“You’re dating.”

“We are not dating.”

⸻

My phone vibrated.

I looked down.

A message from Valentina.

Valentina ❤️:

What are you doing?

Daniel leaned across the table.

“Is that her?”

“No.”

“You smiled.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

I picked up the phone.

Mark:

Working.

Her reply came immediately.

Valentina ❤️:

You’re always working.

Mark:

So are you.

Valentina ❤️:

I’m thinking about the award.

I looked at the message.

Then typed:

Mark:

Why?

Valentina ❤️:

Because I’m excited.

I smiled.

She was excited.

That was good.

Then another message appeared.

Valentina ❤️:

I’m also thinking about what you’ll wear.

I frowned.

Mark:

I have clothes.

Valentina ❤️:

I know.

Mark:

Then stop worrying.

Valentina ❤️:

I want you to look handsome.

Mark:

I’ll wear a suit.

Three dots appeared.

Then—

Valentina ❤️:

You already thought about it.

I stared at the message.

Daniel watched me.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I ignored him.

Valentina ❤️:

Black would look good.

I looked at the message.

Then typed:

Mark:

Maybe.

Her response came immediately.

Valentina ❤️:

You thought about black too.

I frowned.

How did she know?

Mark:

No.

Valentina ❤️:

You did.

Mark:

Stop reading my mind.

Valentina ❤️:

I know you.

I stared at the message.

Then another appeared.

Valentina ❤️:

You’ll look very handsome beside me.

I typed:

Mark:

Go to sleep.

Valentina ❤️:

It’s only eight.

Mark:

Then stop texting.

Valentina ❤️:

You love when I text you.

Mark:

No.

Valentina ❤️:

You missed me today.

Mark:

No.

Valentina ❤️:

You want me.

I stopped.

Daniel leaned forward.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“You stopped typing.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

My phone vibrated again.

Valentina ❤️:

You’re not answering.

I typed:

Mark:

I’m working.

Her response came.

Valentina ❤️:

Okay. Good night, handsome.

I stared at the screen.

Then I replied:

Mark:

Good night.

A second later—

Valentina ❤️:

You didn’t call me beautiful.

I sighed.

Mark:

Good night, beautiful.

The message was sent.

I froze.

Daniel looked at me.

“What did you write?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I placed my phone face down.

Daniel watched me.

Then he smiled.

“You’re dating.”

I stood.

“We are not dating.”

“You called her beautiful.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I’m going home.”

“You’re going to the award ceremony.”

“Yes.”

“With your girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Your date.”

“No.”

“Your future wife.”

“No.”

I walked toward the door.

Daniel followed.

“You’re going to wear black.”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s going to wear red.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve thought about it.”

“No.”

“You’re going to look good together.”

“Good night, Daniel.”

“You’re dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“You’re going to fall in love.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You already like her.”

I opened the door.

Then Daniel called after me.

“Tell Valentina I said congratulations.”

I stopped.

Then looked back.

“I will.”

Daniel smiled.

“Because you’re dating.”

I closed the door behind me.

⸻

On the drive home, I thought about the award.

I thought about Valentina.

I imagined her standing on stage.

I imagined her receiving the award.

She would probably wear something expensive.

Something bold.

Something that made everyone look at her.

She would walk into the room with confidence.

Her heels would make that familiar sound against the floor.

Everyone would turn.

Everyone would watch.

And I would be standing beside her.

As her plus-one.

Not her boyfriend.

Not her date.

Not anything else.

I was only going because she asked.

That was all.

But as I drove home, one question continued running through my mind.

What color would Valentina wear?

And would black look good beside it?

I didn’t know.

But I was already thinking about the suit.

Which was probably a problem.

Because Daniel might have been wrong about us dating.

But I was beginning to realize—

I wanted to be more than just Valentine’s plus one