Monday started as usual – with loads of work and her Inbox full of correspondence. There was a long day ahead, but she greeted it with enthusiasm. Now that Luke Briscoe had her number, she felt good things would start happening. She couldn’t even imagine how much her life would change in mere months.
The day was busy and slow, but the hardest part of it was the first one. By 2:30 most of the complicated workload had been done, leaving only simple but time-consuming task to do for the rest of the day. Some of those tasks Tasha assigned to the trained monkeys – the interns – and took a break, going to the coffee place downstairs.
She had a pretzel with a large cappuccino, a rare unhealthy treat, and went to a bench, ready to bring out her phone and reply to some letters. Instead, the phone rang before she could sit down, causing her to hurry and nearly drop the cup. It was probably an important client calling, because such were all of her clients, but secretly Tasha hoped it was Luke. She set the coffee safely on the bench and looked at the screen. It was neither.
“Hey, Kel!” she tried not to sound disappointed.
“How’d it go? Tell me everything!”
Of course she wanted to know about the Gala. Tasha was surprised she hadn’t received the call last night, probably due to Kelly being out herself. Either way now was not the time to discuss the night.
“Kel, can you come by my house tonight?”
“That good or that bad?”
“Interesting…” Tasha teased.
“I’ll be there at nine.”
The call ended then, because neither needed to say anything else. Kel knew Tash was married to the job, and respected that.
*****
That night Tasha got home earlier than usual. Sometimes Mondays could be difficult, and everyone could feel it. On those days there was no use forcing herself or anyone to work extra hours, since that would be time wasted.
Tasha changed into home clothes and made herself a quick dinner, before settling on the couch to wait for her friend.
“Anybody home?” Kelly asked, entering through the open door at half past nine. By that time Tasha had eaten and drank a bottle of mineral water, and was now enjoying some wine.
“You’re lucky I haven’t gone to sleep!”
“Ah, but the night is young! Come on, get me one of those! And for the love of God, start talking!”
Tasha went to pour Kelly a glass of red, and started taking her through the events of last night, starting with the company limo, and ending with her long conversation with the owner of said company, which ended with him asking for her number.
“And you gave it to him?”
“Well, I hesitated at first, but only because this is all new to me, you know? A guy hasn’t asked for my number in months.”
“Try years!”
“Very funny!”
“Somewhat funny.”
They moved to the couch, each equipped with a big glass of wine.
“I’m happy you finally let somebody close. I see you got the hots for him, Tash.”
“’Got the hots’? That’s one way to put it. But sure, he’s good.”
“What’d you say his name was?” Kelly asked, getting out her smartphone.
“Luke.”
“Luke who?”
“Luke Briscoe. But don’t hold your breath, he’s very secretive.”
“We’ll see about that!”
Looking up new people online was Kelly’s favorite thing to do whenever they made it into their lives. She was impressively good at digging, even if Google produced no immediate results. There was Facebook, and in some cases even MySpace, as well as a dozen other social networks that could contain all sorts of interesting details of someone’s personal life. When that wasn’t enough, Kelly knew other ways of searching for people – everything from looking up their company websites to scanning news articles. Just as Tasha, her friend liked to collect and analyze data.
Tasha's glass was almost empty already, while Kelly’s was still full, as she was too busy surfing the web, staring at the phone intently.
“Hey, maybe you could make it your project, how about that?”
“You’re right… Wait… No, it’s nothing… Bullshit…”
“C’mon, Kel, quit it.”
Kelly put the phone away, mildly irritated with the lack of immediate results. These days normal people were nothing short of obsessed with sharing their personal lives online, constantly posting pictures and updating their status, writing up lengthy posts for everyone who would read them. Tasha was convinced Luke was not normal in that regard.
“Drink up, girl, relax.”
“So, was there anything else I should know about?”
“Meaning?”
“Did he kiss you?”
“I told you, nothing happened, Kel. We talked a lot, that’s all. The night would’ve been insufferable otherwise.”
“I can imagine. But will you meet him again? As in a date?”
“Wow, easy there.” Tasha finished her wine, thinking, and then said, “If he asks me out, then yes, you bet I will.”
*****
A bottle of water, a jog, a shower, then a quick breakfast, and off to work. Tuesday was routine, and for the first time in years Tasha felt differently about it — she was getting bored. Her mind was racing, but barely focused on the job. She found herself going back to Luke every five minutes, remembering the way he talked, especially the way he spoke about himself. It was fascinating and intriguing, even though in the end he hadn't revealed all that much. A lot less, in fact, than a regular person would casually reveal in a friendly conversation, but then again Luke was no ordinary man. By the time her lunch break came, Tasha could no longer bear the mystery.
She googled.
And came up with nothing. At least nothing she hadn't known. Luke Briscoe had no social media accounts, which was no surprise, and countless news articles contained no personal information beyond speculation. The Wikipedia page in his name had only a few lines, and those were more about his company rather than the man himself. After just ten minutes of searching Tasha became convinced Luke had paid handsomely to pull the info off the web. People of his position just couldn't avoid publicity, yet Luke managed to remain a mystery.
She considered calling up some of her friends who could know something, but decided doing so would qualify not just as casual interest, but as background checking, which would be wrong on several levels, not the least of which would be her professionalism.
The break was over, and she got back to her office, still flirting with the idea of making some calls. All the calls she made that afternoon ended up being business-related, and suddenly there was a workload to do, leaving no time for an investigation.
The good news came later in the evening, when Tasha got a call from the one person who would certainly know everything there was to know about Luke Briscoe.
The number came up as unidentified, which was unusual since the call was made to her private cell phone. It was her first clue as to who was trying to reach her.
"Hello?" she said, and knew it was Luke before he replied.
"Evening, Miss Hendricks! I hope I timed the call well."
Tasha got up from the desk, glad to finally take her eyes off the computer screen.
"Perfect timing, I was just finishing up." She was sure Luke would ask her out. Why else would he call?
"Good to hear. I wanted to ask..."
"Dinner tonight?" Tasha decided to help him.
There was an awkward pause on the line, and then Luke said, "Close, but not exactly. How are you on Saturday?"
That was something, right?
She said, "Working..."
"Look, I don't mean to overstep any boundaries here, but I've called your office earlier today, and they courteously agreed to clear your schedule for the day. If you want that, I mean, you don’t have to…" He went quiet then, anticipating her reply.
Tasha didn't know what to say. He had overstepped a boundary, so
rt of, but at the same time he wasn't forcing it on her. Clearly she was free to refuse.
The thing was — she didn't want to.
Sure, calling her office wasn't the smartest move, but she knew well how hard it could be sometimes to connect, even more so with people in their business. She could forgive this little misstep.
"What’s on your mind?" she said.
"Will you meet me at the pier? Pier 90, to be precise, one down from the Intrepid."
Tasha knew well where that was – Kelly had dragged her out to the Air & Space Museum once, as a third wheel on her date with a guy who was eager to show Kelly his favorite planes. It was equal parts informative and awkward.
"Please tell me you're not taking me fishing!"
"God no! That'd be a terrible first date!"
Aha! It was a date after all!
"Agreed,” she said, “When do you want me there?"
"I'll send a car to pick you up at ten, will that be all right? Unless you drive, in which case…"
"I'll be ready, Luke."
"Great! I'll be waiting, Tasha. See you then."
As soon as the call ended, she scrolled down the list and dialed Kelly. There were a few tones, and then her friend replied.
"Did he do it? He did, didn't he? You wouldn't be calling otherwise, Tash."
"He did, relax! I'm meeting him Saturday morning. We’re going sailing, I think."
"Tasha Hendricks is ditching work on the weekend? You must be really into this guy." Kelly laughed.
Tasha did too, but subtly, lest somebody in the office saw her having fun during the workday. It would only distract and relax everyone, and Tuesdays were important for everyone to keep good working pace and momentum going for the week. Tasha turned toward the window, her back to the office, looking over sunbathing Manhattan.
“You know, I do like him a lot. He’s just the right combination of business and fun.”
“And secrecy, apparently. Tash, I couldn’t find anything on this guy. All I came up with is that he’s of Italian origin, son of immigrants. He’s well educated and smart, obviously. But those are all things one could easily deduce.” Kelly spoke with great unease, as if this guy was some kind of a mobster, which he couldn’t be. Right?
“Kel, you are being dramatic. I’m sure he’s just a guy who likes his privacy. Wouldn’t you if you were him?”
“If I were a handsome billionaire? Are you kidding? I’d be all over TV! I’d be plowing through Victoria’s Secret models day in and day out!”
Tasha couldn’t help laughing now. “Well, maybe it’s for the best that you aren’t one!”
“Hey, I just don’t want you to look bad, sister!”
“Ri-ight!”
“Okay, we’ll have to meet Sunday then, Tash.”
“Four, as usual?”
“Unless you decide to spend the whole weekend with your mystery man, then yes, because I’m definitely going to need recreation that day. I’m going to this French fraternity party on Saturday, for an article of course, but I here those guys know how to have a good time!”
“Wanna relive your glory days, Kel? Just make sure those boys are of age, you cougar, okay?”
“You’re just jealous because you’re going sailing with your billionaire boyfriend!”
“My, you’re right! Don’t know how I’ll get through that!”
They exchanged a few more quips, and then Tasha said she needed to get back to work. If she was really ditching work on Saturday, something she hadn’t done for the past two years, she might as well do as much as she could during the week. She felt bad for the interns, but thought they wouldn’t mind. She was their boss, after all, and they knew she worked more than any of them. That thought made her feel better, and she spent the rest of the day behind her computer, writing up reports and making Power Point presentations.
Wednesday through Friday she stayed overtime, and managed to pull in sixty hours when all was said and done, which made her extremely proud. Devotion to work was one of her strong traits, and maintaining it was an exercise in perseverance and strength. It didn’t hurt that her prize was a sailing trip with Prince Charming.
On Friday she assigned and distributed the weekend workload between the interns, and left for home, hoping everything would go well in her absence. Tasha firmly believed in the phrase “if you want something done right, do it yourself,” and knew it would be a struggle to keep from calling the office and checking up on the progress. But at the same time, she knew she could count on the people working for her. She did select them herself, and only the best candidates were allowed.
On Saturday, Tasha woke up early in the morning, five minutes before her usual alarm, and started getting ready right away. She showered, making sure her body was impeccable (she wasn’t planning on having sex on the first date, she knew better than that, but… you never know where you might end up at the end of it). She did her nails and hair, not too formal, but not too girlish, either. Her breakfast consisted of fried eggs and a salad, and all the while eating it, there was a strong urge to call up the guys and make sure everyone has even made it in today. Of course they would all be there, in their cubicles, working hard. They could even be more motivated to show how productive they were. One could dream…
She put on a bikini underneath a beach dress. The dress wasn’t revealing, but it was pretty and easy to remove. Not that she thought they’d be swimming, and not just because the Hudson was cold. She decided against jewelry for the same reasons, except for a small pendant that hung low, neatly in the cleft between her breasts. Perfume was a perfect finishing touch, and Tasha was all set, nervously pacing in the living room.
The driver was downstairs at five to ten, and announced his arrival by giving her a call. Tasha was surprised to discover that the car was identical to the one her own driver used to take her to work. Even the rims were the same, and as she climbed in, she half-expected to see Jay behind the wheel. It was another guy, however, one she’d never seen before. He seemed friendly and greeted her with a wide smile, almost immediately driving off.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Tasha said.
“Ask away, Miss Hendricks.”
“Is it a coincidence this car looks the same as the one I usually use?”
The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror, frowning. He said, “I wouldn’t know, to be honest. This isn’t a rare model though. I know a couple of guys who drive these.”
“I see. Thanks.”
They didn’t speak for the rest of the short drive to Pier 90, which was fine by both of them. Finally, the car stopped at an intersection of 12th Avenue and West 50th Street, about to turn right. The driver honked and flashed the lights, after which the gate underneath the large Pier 90 sign rolled aside slowly, and a man stepped out. The driver showed his credentials, stated their business, and drove on to the parking lot, passing by most of the cars.
There was a single yacht docked, as the pier was normally reserved for event, as far as Tasha knew, but that one yacht was enormous! The vessel was at least a hundred feet long, white and extremely bright in the sunshine. The driver parked next to another dark sedan and let Tasha out.
She started towards the narrow ramp that let onto the yacht, and as she neared it, Luke showed up at the top, hurrying to meet her.
“Sorry, sorry, Tasha, I should’ve been waiting by the cars! Let me get that for you.”
She handed him the beach bag, even though it wasn’t heavy at all. He asked for her hand, and once she gave it, they walked up the ramp together, with him in the lead.
“I have to say this is incredible!” she said.
They were on the deck now, and the first thing Tasha saw was a large round table with a dozen chairs around it. Next to it, under the canopy, was a wide bar, as if pulled right out of a nightclub. Everything seemed to be brand new and little used.
“There’s a less formal area on the second deck, as well as a pool,” Luke said, leading her inside.
> The main inside area was pretty much a regular living room, with leather couches and a flat screen TV, as well as a few cupboards with books and movies. As Luke showed her around more rooms, it became clear the yacht really was a floating mansion. The captain, an old man with a kind face met them in the control room, and downstairs the cook asked them what they would like to eat. Not only was it a mansion, it was also a restaurant, apparently. Tasha was too amazed to ask questions or comment on it.
Half an hour later they had left the dock, and were enjoying the sun on the upper deck, lying beside each other on wicker sunbeds. They had flute glasses in their hands, and Luke toasted, “To this wonderful day, Tasha.”
“To the wonderful day.”
“I am very happy you agreed to come along. This isn’t a typical first date, I know, and I don’t want you to think I’m a show off. It’s just that I don’t like to be in public.”
Tasha drank some more champagne. “I get that. My friend googled you, can you imagine?” She uttered a laugh, but Luke didn’t. He looked away, not too happily.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t find anything, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, no, it’s just weird to hear that.” He did smile saying it. “What did she find out?”
“Not much, really. Nothing personal, at any rate. Listen, let’s not talk about it if you’re not comfortable with that. That’s not the way to go.”
“But then again, maybe it is.” He gave her that broad smile of his, genuine and beautiful, the kind of smile that made girls melt. Tasha was no exception.
“All right,” she said, “Let’s do that. I’m Tasha Hendricks, nice to meet you.”
They shook hands, drank some bubbly, and started the relationship anew.
Chapter 4
“So, I assume you know most of my background already?” she asked.
A smile touched his lips. “I might. But I’d like to hear it from you.”
She had mixed feelings about Luke knowing all about her, but then realized that feeling was exactly what he had been avoiding for the better part of his adult life. She could see now why privacy was so important. Still, she talked about herself, and Luke didn’t take that for granted. He was listening and asking questions, never interrupting her as she talked about her childhood in Ohio, where her parents still lived. They weren’t close, as she’d been quick to leave the family estate to study finance in New York. She said, without needless modesty, that she had made herself much like Luke – from the ground up to the top. He agreed with that.
Her Russian Millionaire (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 16
