Like a Boss - Annabelle Costa Page 0,35
least, they don’t buy me flowers. One guy I dated told me flat-out that he wasn’t going to bother because I didn’t seem like the flower-loving type, which I suppose is true. But it’s the thought that counts, right?
The proper thing to do is to call Luke and thank him for the flowers. I dial his cell, which he answers just when I’m certain his voicemail will pick up.
“Hi, Ellie,” he answers, sounding very wide-awake compared to how I feel right now.
“Hey,” I say. “I got the flowers.”
“Love ‘em or hate ‘em?” he asks.
“Love ‘em,” I reply.
“Good,” he says. “I took a chance. You seem like the kind of woman who pretends you don’t like flowers, but you really love them.”
Once again, I’m baffled by Luke’s ability to know exactly what I’m thinking. “So what are you up to?” I ask.
“Not much,” he says, as I hear something in the background that sounds suspiciously like a fax machine.
“Are you at work?”
“Sort of,” he admits. “Okay, yes. I am.”
“It’s seven o’clock on Sunday morning!”
“Ellie,” he says. “There’s something you need to know about me: I work a lot. When I’m not asleep, I’m at work. That’s how you make millions of dollars. That, and being a crazy business genius.”
“So I guess there’s no room in your life for relationships, huh?” I say jokingly, but my laugh comes out a bit strained.
There’s a long pause on the other line. “I’d make time,” Luke says slowly. “For the right woman.”
What does that mean?
I swallow. “So, um, what are you up to today?”
“Actually,” he says, “I’m sort of… giving a speech.”
A speech? I haven’t given a speech since I was valedictorian of my crappy high school. “A speech where? About what?”
“I’m giving it at Harvard,” he says. “It’s on, you know, how to be an awesome businessman and make a shitload of money. That’s the official title, anyway.”
“Can I listen?”
“Christ, no.” He sounds horrified. “Anyway, you don’t want to make a shitload of money. You just want to play with a computer all day.”
He’s right, of course. Sure, it would be nice to be rich, but I never really cared that much about money. Still, I like the idea of hearing Luke give a speech to a bunch of wide-eyed college kids. He seems like he’d be a fantastic speaker.
“I still want to go,” I say.
He sighs loudly, but agrees to let me hear his speech. I don’t know why, but I can’t imagine anything more fun than spending my Sunday with Luke.
_____
Luke picks me up in the afternoon and drives me to the Harvard campus. My college boyfriend Neil had a car—a two-door Toyota Camry with a hatchback that was possibly older than I was—and he always ended up parking it miles from campus. He parked it so far away that it got broken into once. The guy who broke in damaged both the door locks, so for months Neil had to climb into the car through the trunk until he could scrape together enough money to fix the locks.
Luke, with his handicapped plates, parks just feet away from the Yard. But I imagine even if he weren’t disabled, Luke would find a way to get good parking. And if someone ever broke into his Tesla, he’d have it fixed within the hour.
I spent ages in the morning trying to figure out what to wear. Of course, this is far from my first lecture at Harvard, but I can’t dress the way I did when I was a twenty-year-old college student. Jeans and a T-shirt don’t seem appropriate. I finally select a summer dress that looks a bit formal and makes my nearly nonexistent hips and butt look slightly curvier.
Luke looks great, by the way. He’s wearing a dark Armani suit that’s buttoned up and makes him look sexy as hell. Aside from the fact that he’s using hand controls, it would be hard to know he had any kind of disability just from looking at him driving the car.
I haven’t been to Harvard Yard in ages. There’s something surreal about being here as an adult. Especially being here with Luke as an adult. Actually, going to Harvard in itself was a surreal experience for someone like me. I’m sure for Luke it was a given his whole life that he’d end up there, but for me, it was tantamount to saying I was going to attend Hogwarts University.
I spent most of my four years of Harvard being mildly embarrassed to be going