Coming Home

by Lydia Michaels

  Lucian stepped off the elevator and walked at a clipped pace past Seth’s desk. “Get me Quincy on the phone, and I want a copy of your notes from yesterday’s conference call.”

  “Yes, sir,” his assistant said, snapping into action.

  Lucian shut the door and went to his desk, removing his jacket and tossing it over the chair. Today was going to be a pain in the ass. He could already sense it. His mind refocused on what Jamie was saying.

  “. . . The statistics are all in their favor. There are no other bids on the table now that Chrysler’s withdrawn their offer. Could there be someone we overlooked?”

  Lucian dropped into his chair. “Who? Bishop’s not going to be interested. He’s already on my shit list and knows going into this will only end in his company’s bloodshed.”

  “No, I don’t think it’s Slade. Something isn’t adding up though. For Labex to suddenly hesitate when they have everything they asked for on a silver platter . . . there has to be an offer on the table we aren’t seeing.”

  “Are you saying there’s a mole?” Lucian frowned and did a quick inventory of his staff. This deal was huge. Over eighteen months poured into schmoozing and negotiating in order to get Labex, a green energy provider, to put their accounts in the care of Patras. They’d be handling everything from the site modifications, to warehousing their equipment, to managing their accounts. “Who else could compete with our offer?”

  “Aside from Slade? I don’t know.”

  Flicking on his computer, he grimaced.

  “Mr. Patras, I have Mr. Quincy on line one,” Seth piped in over the intercom.

  “Shamus, I do not want to lose this deal. It’s a good partnership, and the mere idea of someone fucking with us is irritating. I want to find out who it is and I want them dealt with. Have Margarite do a search on all vacant warehouses in Folsom. I’ll get Seth to arrange a dinner tonight, someplace nice. We’ll do some ass-kissing and dig around. Whoever’s playing with us is about to get a severe lesson in business acumen.”

  “You got it. Let me know how you make out with Quincy.”

  “Will do.” He ended his call and snatched up his desk phone. “Quincy.”

  The long series of phone calls that followed did nothing but frustrate everyone involved. Lucian had a staff of over one hundred involved in this deal, and they were all running around like headless chickens trying to find where their plan had fallen short.

  By two, he was ready to flip his desk and demand a meeting with Jacobi, the CEO of Labex Green, but knew that would only show his cards and not bode well for anyone. Dinner was arranged for that evening, and he and Jamie would do everything in their power to control the damage.

  Finally, the call he’d been waiting for came. He snatched up his cell. “Dugan?”

  “Got it,” his chauffer said.

  Lucian smiled with great satisfaction. She had to know it was only a matter of time. “I’ll be down in five.”

  He grabbed his jacket and left his office. “I’ll be back in an hour. Text me with any news regarding Labex. Everything else can wait.”

  Seth nodded and continued to frantically compile the schematics Lucian requested for that evening. As he strode into the elevator, he slipped his master key into the grid, in no mood to deal with other passengers. The ride to the ground was made in luxurious silence. When the dial showed he’d reached the lobby without interruption, he withdrew his key and stepped onto the marble tiles.

  Pressing through the revolving glass doors, he found Dugan waiting. His chauffeur opened the back door of the limo and Lucian glided onto the smooth leather seat. “Where are we heading?”

  Dugan smiled. “Clemons Market, sir.”

  The door shut with a soft snick and they were soon on their way. He hadn’t heard from Evelyn since early that morning. He wondered how committed she was to her “plans” that evening. It would benefit him if she accompanied him to their dinner meeting, making it seem more casual than manipulative, a sort of preemptive celebration of the partnership to come. Much of his success in business was the result of assuming victory from the first handshake.

  He groaned as he considered Shamus, if he intended to bring a date, would likely ask his sister Toni. Lucian could not wait for that ridiculous coupling to run its course and be over.

  Toni was the farthest thing from reserved. She spoke too much and most of the time came off spoiled and unworldly. It wasn’t her fault. She was young. He couldn’t fault her for her lack of experience. It was her need to fill every bit of silence with mindless chatter that could hinder his plans for the evening. Evelyn was much better at knowing when words were necessary and when less was more in terms of finessing professionals.

  He drew out his phone and texted Jamie.

  Are you going stag tonight?

  It only took a moment for his friend to reply.

  Your sister would cut off my nuts if I took someone else. So, yes. It’s better she thinks this is strictly business and no one’s feelings will be hurt.

  Lucian drew in a breath of relief. The one thing he couldn’t deny was that his friend truly knew his sister . . . and her faults.

  I may bring Evelyn, but she already has plans, but I’d like her to go.

  The time to reply exceeded the norm and Lucian knew his friend was laughing at his expense.

  So she’s speaking to you again? And plans? Without you? I didn’t know that was allowed.

  Lucian carefully typed each letter of his reply.

  Fuck. You.

  Shamus’ reply was quick.

  Lol. Would if I could. I’m very good. Ask your sister.

  He wasn’t touching that one. Wedging his phone in his breast pocket, he shifted as Dugan pulled into the market’s parking lot. The market was small, sort of a commercialized mom-and-pop feel to it.

  When the limo eased into the fire lane, Lucian let himself out. Dugan met him on the curb. “I’ll be out in a bit. You can park.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The automatic doors opened to the scent of paper products and the hum of canned elevator music. He could not recall the last time he stepped foot in a grocery store. Perhaps he never had. A metal snake of shopping carts was parked along the front of the store. His feet carried him where his mind wasn’t aware he should go.

  Crossing the threshold of another set of automatic doors, he entered the main store. Shoppers glided by, perusing their lists and selecting goods, as mothers herded children in the desired direction. A stack of baskets sat just beside a display of cut flowers. He collected a basket and selected a bouquet of lavender tulips, dropping them into the green wire bin.

  Sales marked the first aisle, and he wasn’t quite sure where Evelyn would be. He drifted down the aisles, taking in the unique feeling of normalcy that came with being in such an ordinary place. Lucian stilled in the cookie aisle when his gaze recognized a type of pinwheel biscuit and his mind drifted to a memory he had all but forgotten.

  His fingers curled around the simple white box with blue lettering as he returned to his childhood kitchen. He suddenly conjured his mother’s perfume and felt the warmth of her presence as she handed him a pinwheel. Her smile was delicate and loving.

  Strange that a cookie could present such a nostalgic recollection he didn’t realize he had. The box of cookies landed in the basket, cozied neatly beside the tulips so as not to crush the blooms.

  As he wandered on he looked for signs of Evelyn, but didn’t find her. At the line of registers he saw the young man who had taken her to the benefit that weekend. No longer in a tuxedo, he appeared less of a threat and more of a boy. Odd that Lucian would see him as so young when he saw Evelyn as his perfect match.

  He frowned as he considered the difference in their age. The media had been focusing on the question of her maturity like predators over a downed squirrel. Had he taken advantage of an i
nnocent? True, she was a virgin when he met her, but she was also an adult.

  The media would, of course, have no knowledge of such things, but it certainly didn’t escape their notice that Evelyn was in her early twenties while he was in his midthirties. Should he feel some level of guilt for wanting her in such carnal ways?

  “Lucian?”

  All thoughts cut off as he heard her voice. He turned and found her stepping from a nondescript back door by the bakery section. “There you are.” He smiled and approached her.

  Lips parted in surprise, she stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “I’m working.” She scowled. “How did you find out where I worked?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Evelyn . . .”

  She made a sound of disgust. “And you wonder why I want my privacy on other issues.”

  He frowned. The sense that he was unwelcome irritated him, another barrier that hadn’t existed before. “Well, I needed to pick up a few things.”

  The disbelieving look she gave him made him smirk. She never bought into his bullshit, but at least she didn’t challenge him. She peeked into his basket. “Cookies and flowers?”

  He stepped closer and whispered. “Shh, you aren’t supposed to see the flowers.” He had the strongest desire to kiss her, but knew she wouldn’t want such attention in her place of work. Rather, he slowly traced a finger down the delicate curve of her jaw.

  A door opened, the one she had just exited, and she suddenly stiffened and stepped away.

  “Evelyn, you will also need to—” The man who emerged cut off his request when he spotted Lucian standing there.

  He was young, but appeared older in the way he carried himself. His face was groomed with a dated mustache and his eyes were hidden behind thick lenses, making his age difficult to discern. Lucian’s gaze snapped to his badge and noted that he was the manager.

  “I didn’t realize you were assisting a customer. Please return to my office when you’re finished.”

  There was nothing inappropriate in such a request from a manager to an employee, yet the set of Evelyn’s shoulders and the blank expression on her face told him something was off. The manager disappeared through the doors again and Evelyn drew in a shaky breath.

  Before he could ask what the guy’s deal was, she turned and hissed, “You have to go.”

  He frowned. “Do you not like your manager?”

  “He’s my boss. I don’t have an opinion about him, but he’ll certainly have an opinion about me holding social calls at work.”

  No, there was something definitely off with her, and it definitely had to do with the manager. “If you think I’m leaving because some little twerp with his picture in a dollar-store frame wants it so, you’re mistaken.”

  She huffed and shifted on her feet. “Lucian, I have work to do—”

  “Is that his office?”

  She turned and glanced at the door. “What? Yes.”

  “Why were you in his office?”

  “He had to go over some things with me.”

  “Like?”

  “My receipts. Lucian, I really need to get back to work.”

  That was his little worker bee, always so concerned about keeping her job. She really was an admirable employee. However, she was also vulnerable because of her age and the drive to maintain her job.

  “Does he ever request the other employees join him in his office?”

  Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. They were manicured, but no longer polished the way they had been when she’d stayed at the hotel and had the use of the salon. He’d make her an appointment.

  “I don’t know. I need to go see what he wants now. I’ll call you when I’m done working.” She turned and disappeared through the back door without giving him a chance to reply. Dismissed indeed. He had a moment of what the hell is happening to me as he stared at the nondescript door, dumfounded.

  He decided he’d wait. Let’s see how long Mr. Manager decides to monopolize his employee.

  Lucian drifted to a display of rotisserie chickens that smelled surprisingly good. He waited for several moments. And when the door finally opened, Evelyn marched out and made a beeline to the registers on the opposite end of the store. There was no mistaking the irritation that set her shoulders. His eyes narrowed as he placed his basket beside a tank of lobsters and adjusted his cuffs.

  Walking over to the door he pressed through and found a cramped little storage room with a ratty filing cabinet and the manager behind a beaten-down desk. The man’s mouth dropped open beneath his mustache.

  “May I help you?” Clearly shoppers were not permitted in this area.

  Lucian took his time taking in the small space. The guy had pictures of himself on the wall proclaiming he’d been employee of the month more times than any other. Instinct told him something was off and his gut said it was more than simple territorial paranoia for Evelyn.

  He brushed his thumb over the edge of a dusty crate. “Mr. Gerhard?” It was easy to get his name off one of the many plaques on the wall.

  “Yes?” The manager’s confusion to his presence showed signs of unease. It was a simple enough task. Lucian was older, better dressed, taller, and unarguably more powerful. The manager was outmatched and knew it, even if he didn’t know the game.

  “I’m Lucian Patras.” There, that did it. Game on.

  His brows shot over the dated frames of his glasses and he stood, instinctively offering the well-known name the respect it deserved. He held out his hand. “Mr. Patras, well, what a surprise. I hadn’t recognized you. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Lucian kept his expression blank, but narrowed his eyes in a manner he knew could intimidate even the most powerful man. Gerhard got the unspoken message and withdrew his proffered hand.

  “I imagine you’ve worked quite hard to obtain your position here at Clemons, Mr. Gerhard. Did I mention I know the Clemons family? They and the Patras family go back a long way. I’d hate to have to contact them beyond the courteous Christmas card.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” the manager said, his posture protective.

  Lucian eyed the watermark on the ceiling with disinterest. “Evelyn Keats is someone very special to me. I understand that she’s new here and may require direction as she becomes oriented with her new duties, but do not make the mistake of taking advantage of her work ethic.” He met the other man’s gaze, which was magnified by his thick glasses. “I look out for her and will continue to do so. I want to make sure she’s being treated the same as the other employees. She may appear to be just another clerk here, but I assure you, she has an arsenal of attorneys at her disposal if, say, an employer were to overstep the bounds of proper management. Are we clear?”

  The man swallowed noticeably. “Perfectly.”

  “Very well. I’ll continue with my errand.” He turned and exited the office, sweeping up his basket and making his way to the registers.

  ***

  Lucian approached the hostess’s station and was recognized immediately. “Mr. Patras, lovely to see you again. Your party is waiting right this way.”

  He followed the young blonde to his usual table and recognized Jamie. Confusion knit his brows when he noted his friend’s scowl. The hostess left them as he settled across from Shamus. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’ll see,” Jamie grumped and Lucian turned just as his sister slid into the seat beside Jamie.

  His gaze widened for a split second. “Antoinette, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  His sister made a great show of hauteur as she adjusted her napkin and raised her chin. “Lucian, always a pleasure. No Evelyn this evening?”

  “She had plans.”

  “Ah, so she was invited and simply couldn’t make it. How interesting.” She shot Jamie a
derisive glance and his friend rolled his eyes. This was not what they needed this evening.

  Lucian tilted his head to Shamus, his eyes asking What the fuck? Jamie simply shook his head and said, “George and Preston should be here any minute. Let’s order some drinks and get on with this. They’re both gin-and-tonic men.”

  They waved over the waitress and ordered a round of the house’s best gin, and drinks for the rest of them. Toni ordered a daiquiri or some other juvenile display that was inappropriate. This entire parade was making his jaw tense. What the hell was Shamus thinking, entertaining a relationship with his little sister? This was exactly why the idea was ludicrous. Not only were Shamus’s tastes too dark for Lucian to contemplate when involving his sister, their lifestyle required a certain level of class that came, not with money, but with time and experience the likes of which Toni had yet to learn.

  Lucian sighed and sipped his brandy. They discussed the strategy for schmoozing their associates, and Toni remained quiet. However, her disinterested expression, the one that said they were boring her and she’d rather be shopping, grated on Lucian.

  Toni fidgeted like a child in church. He wanted to slap his friend for not taking control of the situation and demanding she stay home. This wasn’t fucking Romper Room. It was a multimillion-dollar merger that they were rumored to lose.

  Shamus hissed a warning to Toni, who replied with an indignant glare when their guests arrived. Luckily, by the time George and Preston were escorted to their table, his sister’s expression had morphed into serene acquiescence.

  The five of them shook hands and Antoinette was introduced. Ice was broken and orders were placed with no regard to price, and every bit of emphasis placed on the unspoken acknowledgement that the Labex men were their honored guests. No comment was made to hint there was any chance the deal could go to another bidder. Confidence and the assumption of success were all part of the game of persuasion.

  Throughout the meal, Shamus and Lucian made a good play to lull their associates into a state of comfort that seduced them into believing this was right, this was where they wanted to be and it was in their best interests to stay.