The Pull of Destiny (40 page)

“They’re great movies,” I
protested, my eyes streaming with tears of laughter. “The rain scene in The
Notebook is a classic-.”

“I’d rather watch Alvin
and the Chipmunks than watch either of those movies.” Luke snickered drily.
“You’re not asking your soul mate for much, are you?”

I wiped my eyes, the
giggles subsiding.
Thank God for waterproof mascara.
“It’s my heart
that’s gonna end up being broken, so I figure I shouldn’t just settle for
anything,” I said, still playing along with the soul mate joke, even though
Luke still appeared to be dead serious. But he couldn’t be, could he?
Am I
that oblivious?

“You of all people should
never just settle, CiCi. You deserve the best.” I stared up at him, my heart
jumping till it felt like it was in the region of my throat.
He’s flirting
with me! Luke Astor is flirting with me and I don’t know what to say!
Luckily, he continued, giving me time to regroup. “Which is why you need to get
with me. I can handle some of the things you’re looking for, and a lot more you
didn’t mention, if you know what I mean.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at
me, grinning sexily. I searched for a witty comeback, which was hard to find as
all I could hear in my head was Faith saying
‘Do you wanna know what I heard
Joanna tell Wendy? He’s a good kisser!’

Thinking about Luke being
a good kisser was a distraction that I really didn’t need.

I settled for saying, “I
think I do know what you mean,” and Luke pinched my cheek gently.

“So, do I qualify?” he
asked hopefully. “Am I Celsiana Sawyer soul mate material?”

More than you’ll ever
know. But you’ll never know, as long as I can keep my big mouth shut.

“Nope,” I said brightly.
Ooh,
you liar!

“CiCi-!” He gave me a
puppy dog look that I tried to ignore. “Don’t be like that.”

“You have to do all the
things I want or it won’t work.”

Luke grinned suddenly,
tapping his chin. “You’re trying to put me off, aren’t you?” he asked shrewdly.
Before surprised little me could answer, he went on. “Yeah, I can tell. But
I’ve got news for you, my beautiful.”

My mouth was dry (
my
beautiful? He just called me his beautiful
?) but I managed to croak out
“What’s that?”

I saw Joanna peering
snoopily at us as Luke bent his head down to my ear again, positively
smothering me with the delicious smell of soap and him. His lips caressed my
ear as he whispered, “I don’t scare easy. And I love a challenge.”

He stepped back, looking
very pleased with himself. I could barely breathe. He was viewing me as a
challenge?
When had everything changed and why the hell was I the last to
know?

“But-,” I blustered,
shoving my hair over my shoulder as I tried to think of something-anything! -
to say.

“We’re meant to be, CiCi.”
Luke chuckled, running a hand up my bare arm and raising goosebumps. “It’s our
destiny.”

I finally found my voice,
to my relief. Looking up into Luke’s smiling face, I said, “I thought you don’t
believe in destiny?”

To my surprise, his
fingers grazed my locket and he winked at me. “I feel the pull of destiny,” he
said, his fingers still on my locket, which was lying dangerously close to my
cleavage.

I pouted, enjoying how it
felt to flirt with Luke- so natural and fun. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

Shrugging shamefacedly,
Luke said, “I’m sorry, you’re just too easy!”

I saw this as a way to
wrap up our awkward yet highly entertaining soul mate talk, hopefully for good.
Too much wishful thinking is dangerous for a girl like me.

“My soul mate would never
make fun of me, so you totally fail.”

Luke groaned, seemingly
upset. “At least I tried,” he said, biting his lip. Jauntily, he added, “But
I’m not stressed. About soul mates, I mean.”

“Why?”

He squeezed my shoulder.
“We’re only 17, we have all the time in the world to find our soul mates and be
unhappy for life.” Grinning ruefully, he stared off into space. “That is, if I
live that long.”

My stomach lurched
guiltily. In the excitement of the night, I had completely forgotten about the
aneurysm. I was sure that Luke had forgotten about it too and was only
mentioning it now because he happened to remember.

I frowned at him. “Don’t
say that.”

He shot me a crooked
smile. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“Being cynical doesn’t
suit you, Luke.”

“I’m just saying, after
observing my dad and Hope, I’d much rather not even go the marriage route.”

Feeling puzzled, I had to
ask. “But- they’re happily married, aren’t they?”

“Depends on what you call
happily,” Luke said cryptically as the song ended.
That’s certainly cleared
up a lot.
But Luke didn’t seem inclined to go into detail and I didn’t want
to push him.

He bowed. “Thank you for the
lovely dance.” As he straightened, he added, “And sorry I kept stepping on your
toes.”
At least he noticed.
“I’m a bit rusty.”

I looked down at my French
manicured toenails, encased in a pair of brand new (courtesy of Mrs. El Hamed,
one of the sweetest women ever) Gucci sandals. They seemed all good.
Note to
self- next time I dance with Luke, wear steel toed boots.
If there was a
next time.

Smiling at Luke, I said,
“You’re very welcome. Oh, by the way, might I suggest dance classes?”

Shaking a finger at me,
Luke chuckled. “Now who’s making fun?”

“I couldn’t resist.”

Luke kissed my hand, a
slow caress of the lips. I shivered as his upper lip caught just a little on
the skin of my hand as he stepped back, staring sexily into my eyes all the
while.

Hot damn. Luke’s
hotness is gonna be the death of me.

“That should make Faith
happy,” he commented, placing a warm hand on my bare back and leading me off
the dance floor.

Trying to act like I every
nerve in my body wasn’t fired up from the hand kiss, I managed to say, “I wish
I had a brother who did things to make me happy.” I sighed, looking sideways at
Luke. “Faith’s lucky to have you.”

Luke smiled at me, his
eyes lighting up with gratitude. “Thanks, CiCi.”

We headed back to the
table which was empty apart from Luke’s smugly smiling dad. Just the smile
alone made me seethe and I had to bite my tongue to hold in the angry torrent
of words threatening to flood from my mouth the more I looked at the arrogant
man. It was a huge effort for me, with my big mouth, not to say anything about
how rude I thought he was. Even though I had assured Luke that his dad’s rude
behaviour and offensiveness hadn’t bothered me, I was lying. He was a jerk,
pure and simple, and he didn’t realise how much his words had hurt me. But I had
to control myself. This was his turf, and in a way, he was entitled to act like
that, since I was the interloper. And as corny as it sounded, this was Luke’s
night. I could tell that Lucas Senior didn’t think much of his son (but
thinking about how reckless Luke had been before Shane died, who could truly
blame him) and I didn’t want to make things worse for Luke by launching a
tirade against his father, even though the man had singlehandedly ruined my
night. So I took a deep breath and stared at a wine glass on the table.

Apparently Mr. Astor been
watching us dance because the first thing he said before we even sat down was,
“It’s obvious that
somebody
needs a few ballet lessons pronto, eh? Luke
clearly isn’t dancer material.”

He laughed at his own
terrible attempt of a joke and I glanced up at Luke as his hand stiffened on my
back.

He’s just like Nate!

Maybe he was even worse.
Although Nate got violent and yelled at me from time to time, when he was sober
he pretty much left me alone. He didn’t want anything to do with me when he
hadn’t had anything to drink. Luke’s dad seemed to get a kick out of always
attempting to belittle Luke with a snide comment here, an insult there...
Didn’t he feel sorry for his son having to deal with the aneurysm?

I sat down silently,
keeping my eyes glued to the wine glass as I wondered where Faith and Hope had
gone. Luke evidently wondered the same thing because he remained standing, his
eyes narrowed as he took in the empty seats.

“Where’ve Faith and Hope
gone?” he asked mildly.

Mr. Astor waved a
dismissive hand. “Home. Sit down, will ya? Last thing I want if for people to
start asking why Lucas Astor’s son is dressed like a moron.”

He laughed nastily,
raising his glass of wine to his lips. Luke’s hand tightened on the back of his
chair. He didn’t sit down, or give any hint that he’d actually heard his dad
talk. “Why’d they leave?”

Snorting, Mr. Astor dabbed
at his mouth with a white napkin. “Who are you, my mother? Why the third
degree? Sit down, dammit!”

Glowering at his dad, Luke
finally sat, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Are they coming back?” I
could tell from his cautiously blank voice that he was striving to keep his
temper. I’d never seen Luke really mad. Well, apart from the time I hit him in
the face and fell on him, but that was ancient history now.

“
‘Are they coming
back?’
” Mr. Astor mimicked, his grey eyes dancing with satisfaction as a
muscle worked in Luke’s jaw. Despite myself, my head was moving like I was
watching a fast paced game of ping pong. Luke, his dad, Luke, his dad, Luke-
I’m
gonna have a crick in my neck if I’m not careful.
“If you must know, smart
ass, Faith happens to have a bedtime. But you should know this after all the
time you spend reading her bedtime stories, right?”

Luke shot me a quick,
embarrassed glance which I pretended not to see. It was so evil of his dad to
ridicule him in my presence. I squirmed in my seat, suddenly wanting the night
to be over. Nothing had turned out like I expected.
Your expectations were
too high, Celsi.
Agreed.

“Dad-,” he started, but
Mr. Astor talked over him, silencing him effectively.

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t
done that since the day she was born, have you?” He tutted as he shook his
head, an amused look playing across his distinguished face. “I completely forgot
how uninvolved you’ve been in your little sisters life.”

His cheeks flushed (with
rage? Humiliation? I couldn’t tell because his hair was hiding his face from my
view) and his head bowed, Luke muttered, “Dad- can we just
not
do this
right now? Please?” in an almost desperate tone. He was staring down at his
hands, which were clutching his napkin with force.

God, why did Hope have
to leave?
She would
have put a stop to this. As things were, I was in a prime location to watch
everything unfold and I hated myself for it.
I wish I could be somewhere
else...

Guffawing, Mr. Astor eyed
his son almost curiously. “What? Don’t want your date knowing what an
incredibly lousy big brother you’ve been to Faith?”

Luke raised his head,
popping his knuckles as he looked daggers at his father. “That’s all in the
past now,” he said quietly, the calmness of his voice belying the anger flaring
in his eyes. I almost applauded him. Team Luke all the way, baby.
This is
the real deal family feud.

“Oh, is it?” Mr. Astor
asked almost courteously, pouring himself yet another glass of wine. I already
knew he had had one (or seven) glasses too many- I could tell by the deliberate
way he was talking. Another few glasses and he’d start slurring.

As Luke leaned forward,
his elbows on the table, he held his dad’s intimidating gaze.

“Get your elbows off the
table,” Mr. Astor commanded in a quiet and dangerous voice.

Luke bit his lip angrily
as he leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’ve changed, but
you
don’t seem to realize that,” he said bitterly.

Mr. Astor appeared to find
that statement rather funny, judging from the snort of contemptuous laughter
that emanated from him. “
You’ve
changed?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t
expect
you
to notice, with your ‘busy’ life,” Luke said sneeringly, his
mouth twisted in disdain.

Mr. Astor looked heartily
amused by Luke’s borderline rude answer. He chuckled, turning to me. My heart
thumped, I was that sure he was about to start in on me too, but he just said,
“He says he’s changed,” in a confiding tone as Luke glowered. “Just because he
spends a couple of afternoons out of a month with his sister, he thinks he’s
the brother of the year.” Another chuckle. “Congrats, Luke. I’ll get the waiter
to bring you a cupcake to celebrate.”

And here I was,
thinking what I said made no sense at times.

Luke’s lips tightened. I
hoped he wouldn’t snap and start cussing his dad out. That was obviously Mr.
Astor’s game plan, trying to get Luke to blow, which was, to me, truly bizarre.
Why was he trying to piss his own son off so much and how the hell was he
enjoying it so much?