When she gets home later that day Matt is already waiting for in the apartment, sitting on the couch and mindlessly flipping through the channels on the television. He turns as she enters, greeting her with a smile as she goes to set her things down at the kitchen table.

"Hey," he greets, taking note of her appearance briefly. "That's a nice coat. Did you just get it?"

Emilia glances down at the expensive thing before setting it on a chair at the table. "Oh— um, yeah." she brushes off, not really knowing how to tell her boyfriend that she got it from a woman— Stefani Germanotta, his boss; to be exact— trying to hit on her.

A smug teasing smile appears on Matt's lips. "I take it you're reaping the rewards of my genius plan already?"

Emilia moves more into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle from on top of the stove to make herself a much needed cup of tea. Her apartment is colder now that she's removed Stefani's coat, and much colder than Stefani's car.

She shoots Matt a look from the open space above the stove looking onto the common living area. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

He sits upright in that moment, eyebrows shooting up in realization. "Wait— is that her jacket?"

"No," Emilia shouts over her shoulder, filling the kettle with water. She doesn't finish her sentence until she is at the stove again. "It's her coat."

"You know what I meant," Matt brushes off quickly, not at all concerned with the technicalities of clothing. "How do you have her coat?"

She tells him what all he needs to hear— how she was already running late for her class, how she got caught in the heavy storm, forcing her to enter a random cafe in the nicer part of town looking like the Loch Ness monster who finally decided to make an appearance. And how Stefani happened to be there, swooping in to save the day and offering her a coat. They exchanged numbers, and the rest is history.

What she doesn't tell him is how they stayed and talked even after the storm had cleared. She doesn't tell him about Stefani's affinity for David Bowie and Nina Simone or how a blush always seems to color the tips of her ears at the same time it coats her cheeks. She doesn't tell him about the intensity in her emerald eyes as she listened to her talk or the overly generous tip she left their waiter.

"So... she just gave you her jacket." Matt states, the doubt in his voice somehow echoing louder than his voice itself.

"Coat." Emilia corrects again.

"Coat, whatever," he itches closer as she pours the hot water in the kettle into the mugs. "She just... gave it to you?"

"That's what I said." Emilia's tone is firmer now, suddenly annoyed and somewhat... defensive? It surprises her. But she can't help the feeling— the woman she had met in the café couldn't be more different than what Matt has made her out to be this past year.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." a distasteful chuckle leaves his lips before he finishes his sentence. "I'm surprised to see how far she'd go to get in someone's pants. Did she try anything?"

Emilia can't help her snort. "Does it matter? She didn't, but if she does next time, I'll let her. It's all a part of the plan, remember?" she doesn't try to conceal her annoyance this time; too tired. She takes a small breath.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Maybe you shouldn't do this. I'm sure there's other—"

"Other options?" Emilia interrupts him. "There isn't. This is why we're here. I have to do this." she grabs the tea bags from the cabinet to the left of the sink, Matt staying silent until she places the tea bags into the hot water.

"It won't take long, if it makes you feel any better. She'll get bored of you and by then you'll probably have all that you need— it's a win win, for both of you."

He places his big hand over her small one, giving her a squeeze of reassurance. She nods, removing her hand from under his to bring her mug closer to her.

She doesn't quite know how to feel anymore, now that she's met Stefani. Matt's idea of her— the way he speaks of her, everything she's heard about the woman from him doesn't quite sit right with her anymore. This all seemed easier when all that she knew about Stefani summed her up to be a cold blooded womanizer. Not someone who blushes when an Elvis song begins playing on the radio in the middle of their conversation.

But she forces all of this down. Matt knows her, he's worked with her for almost a year. If anyone is going to know what this woman is truly capable of, it's going to be him; not her.

"Right. And that's why it's brilliant." she brings the mug to her lips. "She seemed intrigued. I think she's going to call."

And before she knows it, she'll be on a date with her. And then another. And before she even blinks, they'll kiss. And hold hands. And then they'll have sex— and it'll be so fucking mind blowing that she'll decide to pay for her father's hospital bills.

Yeah, ridiculous doesn't even begin to sum all of this up for Emilia.

//

Stefani calls the next day; her voice smooth and collected. Even through the phone, her unwavering muted confidence manages to make Emilia feel small.

"Hello, Emilia. This is Stefani, we met yesterday at the café."

"I remember." Emilia replies, perhaps a little too blunt.

"Is this a bad time?" Stefani picks up on her tone immediately. Emilia shakes her head before she realizes the other woman can't see her.

"No, no. It's perfect actually." she rushes to say, lying. Nothing about this situation is perfect. "I'm glad you called." Stefani's voice brightens almost instantly on the other end of the line, yet so subtlety Emilia almost misses it.

"Great— I'm glad I called you, too. Are you busy tomorrow night?"

Wow, she doesn't waste any time, does she? This is the most straight forward anyone has ever been with her in regards to her romantic life. Usually there's a lot of back and forth before the first date is even stumbled upon. It had taken Matt alone a month before he asked her out on their first date.

Emilia doesn't think any of that will be the case with Stefani.

"That depends." she teases, deciding she better add a bit of flirtation into her tone. This needs to go somewhere to actually work, she tells herself. "Do you have something planned to keep me busy?"

Emilia can feel her smile on the other end of the line. "Maybe. How do you feel about italian?"

"I think it's overplayed for a first date, but I'll let it slide since this was probably so last minute." she's taken aback by Stefani's short lived yet genuine laugh when she hears it, the laugh itself stops so suddenly it gives off the impression that it even took the blonde by surprise. It makes Emilia's chest flutter.

"Well after you go to this restaurant, you'll never want anything other than italian ever again." Stefani lets her know this without hesitating once, the drop in her voice letting Emilia know that she is flirting back.

"Quite confident aren't we, Miss Germanotta?" she teases.

"Is that what we're calling it?" Stefani rasps back.

"We can call it whatever you want." Brilliant. Now she actually sounds like a prostitute, too. Right well, far be to for her to fall anything short of convincing.

"We'll just have to wait and see." she's experienced in this, that much is clear by the tone of her voice. She knows how to draw you in and keep you where she wants you, Matt would rush to say. But Emilia can't help but feel a rush shoot down her body with excitement.

She knows the actuality of the situation, of course. She is straight. And this is just a way to gather enough money to cover her fathers hospital bills. But— this is Stefani fucking Germanotta flirting with her over the phone. Her.

The entire situation is fucked. But without the circumstantial flaws, this could quite possible be the most exciting thing Emilia has taken part in.

So she takes a short pause, allowing the tension to build a bit with the newfound silence. She bites her lower lip as she feels it twitch into an excited smile, letting a shaky breath into the phone before the words needed to seal this finally come out. "I guess we will."

//

"You were saying?" Stefani's smug smirk would be massively annoying if it didn't suit her so well.

The restaurant proved itself to be every bit of an Italian restaurant the moment they stepped in. From the lighting to the music to some family portraits by the entrance, it proved to be every bit of the same as every italian restaurant that had left Emilia with a disappointing distaste for the cuisine.

Which is why the initial try of the pasta she ordered left her absolutely floored.

"It's pretty good." Emilia downplays, maneuvering the fork in her hand to collect more of the creamy perfection. Stefani smiles before she continues, amused by the amount of pasta Emilia seems to be confident in chewing all at once.

"I'll give my grandmother your high praise." Emilia stops her fork midway towards her mouth.

"I— is," another brief pause, the smile on Stefani's lips still lingering. "Is this your family's restaurant?"

Stefani's smile grows a bit deeper before she looks away and Emilia gets her answer.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she questions genuinely, ignoring her conscious as it begins to tug at her own kept secrets. Stefani smiles.

"I wanted your honest reaction." reaching for her glass of wine, she lifts her emerald eyes briefly to meet Emilia's. "How did you like the Cà del Bosco Franciacorta Annamaria Clementi?"

Emilia freezes. "What?" she let's out a laugh she couldn't quite hold in. "I'm sorry, I have absolutely no idea what any of those words mean."

She feels her cheeks lightly coat with pink when she realizes Stefani was referring the wine they had ordered, but if the look of amused adoration on Stefani's face in any indication, she has to be doing something right.

//

They make their way outside when Stefani offers her a ride home— a short drive from where they are. But the weather outside is the warmest it's been in weeks around this time of day, and Emilia proposes they take advantage of it. Stefani looks at her like she's gone mad.

"The car is right here— Sonne can have us there in minutes." Emilia glances at the driver, seemingly minding his own business as he waits for instruction.

"Yeah yeah yeah, you're loaded, we get it." Emilia teases, her tone light and playful. "But I'm suggesting a walk— you know, fresh air, the flowing of blood. It's quite the bargain for what it costs."

Stefani moves her mouth to answer, perhaps say something in retaliation as to why they should take the car. But she cuts herself off, laughing and shaking her head in seemingly disbelief.

"I— you're right. You're absolutely right, we should walk." she signals for Sonne to stay where he is, and Emilia can't help the smile that overtakes her face as she tugs the woman in the direction of her apartment. She elopes her arm around hers for a brief moment before sliding it further down where Stefani takes her hand in her own naturally, internally relieved when she holds tight and doesn't let it go.

"So" Stefani starts, lightly swinging their arms as they continue to walk. "Tell me more about yourself."

"I'm not sure there's much to say anymore. You know just about everything there is to know about me." Emilia answers sheepishly. They talked the entirety of dinner and then some, once their meals were finished. Stefani is a very good listener— a quality that can be very dangerous if Emilia doesn't watch herself.

"Not everything." Stefani replies gently. "I don't know why your eyes are sad." she rubs soothing patterns over the back of Emilia's hand and she has to stop herself from removing it from her hold.

"That's a bit of a heavy topic for the first date, don't you think?" she tries to joke instead. It's not that she doesn't want to talk about her father at all. Well, it is.  But it also has to do with the fact that this is all planned out.

She isn't suppose to mention her father until they are a few months into their relationship. Then, and only then, is she suppose to reveal the tragic situation; performance included with tears and declarations of love and Stefani's money not being of any importance to her. Matt promises it will be the selling point of the whole ordeal. Emilia is a little weary, but ultimately agrees it is a solid plan.

At least she did. Now, in this moment, with Stefani's vibrant and deep green eyes looking at her, she isn't too sure. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But if you ever need someone— I can be there for you. Even if this," she gives her hand a squeeze as she shrugs her shoulders. "Doesn't work out. I like you, I like getting to know you. You're very... particular."

Emilia snorts into a fit of laughter. "Typically when someone calls someone else particular, it's just a nice way of calling them a cunt."At Stefani's reaction, she rushes to apologize. "Shit sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud".

"No, no, I love it." the blonde assures her. "I'm not use to such— it's just, refreshing."

you'll be something new, a nice change, a challenge. Matt's words ring in her ears. Everything is going as planned, the last thing she needs is her moral compass leading her towards failure.

"Alright." Emilia forces herself to smile. "But I'd like to remind you that you asked for this." when Stefani gently squeezes her hand in reply, she knows she's going to hell.

//

When they arrive at her apartment they find Sonne already parked by the entrance. They make their way towards her door, and when Emilia doesn't invite her in, Stefani doesn't push. Instead, she places a soft kiss on Emilia cheek that leaves Emilia feeling dizzy with her intoxicating scent.

"I had a really nice time tonight." Stefani smiles.

"Me too." Emilia agrees, truly meaning it. "We should do this again sometime."

"Typically when people say we should do this again sometime, they really mean to go fuck off." Emilia fakes a dramatized gasp, the strong urge to laugh lingering in her chest.

"See, I'm already corrupting you!" she manages to accuse through her laughter.

"For some reason I get the feeling that isn't a bad thing." Stefani replies, her eyes growing heavy with a tainted excitement.

an // gaga stans I apologize for the "you'll never want anything other than italian ever again" implications in advance. I simply couldn't resist.