She was starting to panic.
“Yes,” he said casually. “You’ll do fine.”
They got inside the spacious, gleaming car.
“I know nothing about modelling on TV or for photographers!” she blurted out.
Lucas smiled at her. “Margo is there to teach you. I hear she’s really good.”
She couldn’t say anything. She bit her lower lip to prevent further damage on her new ‘career’. She held her breath for a few seconds.
“I have a feeling you’ll do fine. I have full confidence in you,” he said, “And don’t ask me why,” he added as an afterthought.
Yeah, please don’t ask me why
.
Alex said nothing during the thirty minute ride to the restaurant. Lucas was quiet too, checking his iPhone once in a while. When they finally arrived, Lucas gave a silent thanks to the heavens for surviving the awkward silence.
He opened the door for her and she murmured her thanks.
He took in a heavy breath as he followed.
“Mr. Conrad, good day!” the moustached
Maître d
’
said with a smile.
* * * *
It was obvious to Alex that he was well known in the restaurant. Everyone greeted him as the suit clad man led them to their seats at the far end of the restaurant. The waiter held out the seat for her.
Suddenly she became conscious of her appearance. Everyone’s beautiful here and rich and…damn, is that necklace for real? She tried not to stare at an emerald necklace on a woman’s neck.
Lucas was pretending to look at the menu as his eyes glanced at her once in a while. God, what’s wrong with me? I feel like I’m on my first date. She’s so beautiful…wait, business, this lunch date is for business…but why are you so…beautiful? Must be your hair…you didn’t even do anything to your hair. He shook his head as a waiter approached them.
“Are you ready to order sir?”
“Yes, I’d like to have the Mesclun for starters.”
“And for the lady, sir?” the waiter asked.
She bit her lower lip. “I’ll have the same,” she said in a small voice.
“And for the
plats principau
, sir?”
“
Boudin Blanc
,” Lucas replied. He looked at her and saw her eyes scanning the menu. “I hear their
Pommes duchesse
is good,” he said helpfully.
She nodded, seeing the description. “That’s fine.”
“Would you like to look at our wine menu, sir?”
“No, thank you. Perrier, please.”
“For the lady?”
“Same,” she said quickly.
“The main course will be served in twenty minutes. Excuse me,” the waiter said.
She gave a sigh of relief. She saw his mouth twitch up.
“Are you mocking me?” she said with narrowed eyes.
“No,” he replied quickly, “But I like the smile beginning on your mouth.”
She gave a short laugh. “I’m sorry, Mr. Conrad, I’m just not used to this.”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me Luke?”
“Luke.”
He liked hearing her say his name. He smiled again. “That’s better.”
As they ate their salad, Lucas did most of the talking, nothing related to Trekker or his businesses. It was more on his personal life.
“So I graduated and went on a month long trip, far away. I went to Nepal, Bhutan, India. I backpacked—what you don’t believe me? I have pictures to prove it. Of course I had guides.”
She smiled. “Must be nice to travel all over.”
“You’ve never been out of the country?”
“Hawaii’s the farthest,” she admitted. “And my mom was there for research.”
“If you could go to any country, where would you want to go?”
“Greece, Santorini,” she said wistfully. Then she blushed.
He nodded. “I think you’ll like it there.”
She smiled again, a shy smile. She felt like an ignorant voyager. He had been everywhere!
They ate the rest of their lunch with occasional small talk. Once lunch was over, they immediately went to Trekker’s factory, nearly an hour away from Manhattan. It was a large factory, filled with machines buzzing about and people greeting them as they passed by. She was awed at the immense complexity of the Conrad retail industry. It took them three hours to have a quick run through of the factory.
“So how do you like it?” he asked her as they headed back to Manhattan.
“Big,” she said. Big? Couldn’t I have said something nicer? Oh god, he must think I’m an airhead or something!
He laughed.
Cute, very cute. And honest, just the way I like it,
he thought. “Well, I’m glad you don’t find it very small. I’ll drop you off your place. Margo said you could have the rest of the afternoon with me, but you must be tired.”
“The nearest train station will do,” she said.
“Nonsense,” he said. “Where do you live?”
There was something about his tone that made her say her address. It was nearly an hour away from the Upper East Side. She felt embarrassed. A full hour later, the Lincoln pulled up onto a quaint looking street. Some of the people looked in admiration at the car.
“You really didn’t have to, Luke—” she said as he got out of the car to open the door for her.
“I like to pamper women,” he said casually. Wait, that didn’t sound right at all.
I pamper select women
, he told himself. Too late to correct it!
She bit back a smile. “Thank you so much.” Women? How many women does he date? Every day? Every week?
“What time do you have to go to work tomorrow?”
“Nine,” she replied.
He nodded. “I’ll see you soon, then. Have a pleasant day, Alex.”
A few people ogled about and she hurriedly got into her apartment building. As soon as she reached her apartment, she took off her kitten heels.
My poor feet, she thought, massaging them a little. She lay down on her bed, contemplating how her day went. As much she tried to keep it professional, she actually enjoyed his company. Her thoughts were filled with his crooked grin and his brows that furrowed once in a while…
* * * *
“What?” he said flabbergasted.
“Mr. Edwards told me Jennifer enjoyed your company a lot during the gala,” Charles Conrad said as he calmly flicked a newspaper in front of him.
So that was what the dinner was for this evening. To set him up with Jennifer! Please no more of Jennifer Edwards.
“Be ready by six-thirty, Lucas.”
He didn’t say anything as he walked to his room. Lying down on his bed he took a deep breath. He didn’t bother lighting up his room. Car lights streaked by his window.
Sure, interfere with my life because Michael barely listens to you, unless its business related, he thought savagely.
He diddled with his iPhone and checked his email once more. He found himself searching through Margo’s email. There was a hastily taken photo of Alex attached. He found himself smiling.
God damn it, what’s wrong with me? It’s just a picture! But he couldn’t help remembering her laugh, her lashes that looked like they were from some mascara ad and her delicate fingers, artist fingers…
He looked at his watch. Nearing six, he quickly took a shower and changed into fresh clothes. He was in the hallway by the time his father came out of his own room. They were quiet on the way to the Edwards’ home.
As soon as they got there, they were greeted by an excited looking Jennifer at the door. She immediately kissed Lucas’ cheek.
“Mr. Conrad, good evening,” she said sweetly to his father.
Charles smiled congenially.
“Charles!” Mr. Edward’s voice boomed across the hall. Charles and Mr. Edwards shook hands.
Jennifer’s mother gave him and Lucas a peck on the cheek.
“Good evening, Mrs. Edwards,” Lucas said.
“Call me Lisa. I’m so glad you could come to our little dinner,” Lisa said.
I’m glad too
, he thought mirthfully as he gave a forced smile. Jennifer held his arm.
“This way Lucas,” she said, leading him to their ostentatious dining room.
It looked like a little version of how a dining room would look like in Versailles. Gilded chairs and columns, fine crystal glasses and gold rimmed plates and cutlery. There was a butler standing near the kitchen door. Lucas bore the suffering in silence, being pleasant all the way until it was time for dessert.
“Mom, can Lucas and I go grab Starbucks downstairs?” Jennifer asked.
“By all means,” Lisa replied.
Lucas saw his father’s look and he nodded. “That sounds nice.”
She bounced up and they took the elevator, exited the building and walked a few meters to get to a Starbucks outlet.
“I’m kind of full Jennifer,” he said as they got into the café.
“I’ll just have some tea. You?”
“Tea, I guess,” he said ordering and paying for them both.
“You are such a gentleman,” Jennifer said holding his hand. “I like guys that pamper girls.”
Lucas nearly rolled his eyes. God, is this woman for real? He imagined someone else flirting with him, preferably Alex… but Alex didn’t seem like the type…
“Lucas, your name’s been called,” Jennifer said interrupting his reverie.
Lucas got up and took the drinks from the barista. “Thanks,” he said, leaving a large tip. The barista beamed at him gratefully.
“So, tell me your interests,” she asked him.
“Uh…there isn’t much. Work, I guess.”
“There must be something,” she insisted.
Fine. I’ll tell you the crappiest things. What should I tell you? That I sing while I poop? Or that I don’t bathe for days? Or that I do drugs? And pick my nose in public?
He smiled. “I like exercising.”
“I do Pilates,” she said. “What else?”
“There’s sailing when I have extra time. And travelling.”
“Ah sailing!” she said, “We have a yacht. My dad named it after me, being an only child and all.”
He nodded, not telling her they had one too.
Again she did most of the talking while Lucas just listened to her. His thoughts were far away, an hour away from where he was. It was with Alex.