Page 30 of Let the Games Begin
“I got her number and made plans to see her. I think it’s going to work out,” said Haruki.
“You asked her out? Okay, Endo—I see you,” Zeke said, impressed that his friend had finally taken the plunge.
“Yeah, we’re going to see a movie. She said that she was going to bring her best friend along, but—”
“She’s bringing her best friend… on a date?” asked Zeke.
“Yeah… that’s not a good sign, is it?” said Haruki, sighing.
“Maybe she just wants to bring her wingwoman?” said Zeke, trying to reassure him.
“Well, that’s actually why I was calling you. I thought I should bring someone too… So, what are your thoughts on a double date this weekend?” he said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. Whoever the mystery girl was, Haruki was in deep.
“If you need me to come, I’ll be there,” said Zeke.
26Olivia
DAY FOUR OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Olivia wanted to catch the 8:15 p.m. shuttle back into Athens. She needed to write new cover letters for some of the jobs she wanted to apply for. So, as she got into the elevator after Arlo’s art class she began to make a to-do list on her phone. When the doors opened on the seventh floor, she was so preoccupied that she didn’t even realize there was someone standing in the doorway.
“Olivia,” the voice at the door said. It was low and warm, and sent a shiver down her spine. Ezekiel Moyo kept popping up when she expected him least.
“Zeke,” she said. The lift suddenly felt smaller, and a lot hotter.
“Now I don’t mean to be forward,” Zeke began, glancing down at her hands, “but is there a reason you’re carrying a canvas drawing of a naked man… that looks a lot like the guy you work with at the Hub?”
“I… I don’t have a good explanation for that, to be honest,”Olivia said. She looked down at the canvas, seeing it through the eyes of someone with no context of the last three hours of her life. But when she looked back up, his eyes were slowly sweeping over her. He wasdefinitelychecking her out and seemed startled when their eyes met again.
“And you? Is there a reason you’re still standing in the doorway or are you just toomesmerizedby the sight of me that you can’t look away?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to reply, shut it, opened it again, and then just shook his head, to her amusement.
Instead of the athletics kit or Team GB uniform the athletes usually wore, Zeke was wearing a loose, slightly unbuttoned white shirt. They were standing on separate sides of the lift, but they may as well have been shoulder to shoulder because Olivia had never been more aware of another person than she was of Zeke. He was looking straight ahead of him, so she let herself look over at the sharp curve of his jawline, the gentle crease around his eyes, and the big muscular arms unfortunately covered up by his shirt. He was built enough to pick her up with ease, strong enough to hold her with one hand. But before she could let her thoughts get ahead of her, he glanced over at her for a second and she looked away.
Olivia took on a sudden interest in the different ways the word “welcome” was translated into the different languages represented at the Olympics. She became fascinated by the brightly colored Village map and the floor-number buttons. She looked at absolutely everything in the lift except for Zeke. Worried that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to control the unruly part of her that was hyperfixated on his smile.
“It’s a really good painting,” Zeke said, breaking the silence. “Running in heels, reckless buggy-driving accidents, nude paintings… is there anything you’re not good at?”
“Carrying trays,” she answered without hesitation.
“Carrying trays?” he asked, amused.
“Yeah, I worked at this Italian restaurant when I was seventeen and I dropped a tray every single shift.”
“And they didn’t fire you?”
“I was bad at trays but good at everything else.”
“Of course, you were good at everything else,” he said with a firm nod.
“You’re catching on,” she said, and winked. Why was she winking? She’d never winked at anyone in her life. It was definitely too warm in this lift.
“I guess it’s only a matter of time before you’re running this place too,” he said, gesturing around them.
“The Village? Think bigger, Zeke. Head of the Olympic Organizing Commission, then Secretary-General of the United Nations, then I’ll use my powerful international connections to become a billionaire, retire to a beach town in Australia, and open a combination bookshop, plant shop, and café.”
“Why do I feel like you sat and wrote that down when you were, like, eleven?” he said, laughing that warm, deep laugh that made Olivia melt.
