Inseparable_A Second Chance Romance

by Mia Ford

  “You are not going to marry my father.” Lucas hissed.

  “That isn’t up to you.” I took a step toward him. “Now pack your bags. The car will be here in four hours. Your dad’s jet will be leaving at eight.”

  I turned my back and went down the front staircase but stopped midway and listened. As I suspected the little punk called his father. I knew he would. Silently, I crept back up a few stairs and held my breath as I picked up Lucas’s side of the conversation.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this yourself?”

  “Of course I’m going to be pissed!”

  “And what’s this about a dorm room! You agreed I’d have an apartment!”

  “She’s just after your money, dad!”

  “This was all her idea, wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t believe this is happening. How could you let her tell you what to do like this?”

  “Fine. I said fine!”

  Then everything went quiet. After I had slipped downstairs and asked Carla our maid to go to the grocery store and stock up on everything, I started to worry. I didn’t hear any movement from upstairs.

  I had assumed he was sulking while he went through his things and packed. He would no doubt be dragging down a dozen suitcases with everything he owns in it.

  I know a lot of people would be upset that their stepchild was leaving for college. Granted, Lucas isn’t officially my stepson but that’s really just semantics at this point. Truth be told, I am relieved.

  About two hours passed before he came downstairs. I was in the kitchen enjoying a quiet cup of tea and getting ready to go to get my nails done once the taxi was here to take him to the airport.

  “Did you finish packing?” I asked.

  He bent over in the fridge looking at all the new food that had been stocked in there. I saw him grab the small tub of calamata olives with pecorino peppers and marinated cauliflower. That was mine but of course, he didn't care.

  “Nope.” He mused while he grabbed a fork and began to eat right out of the tub.

  “What do you mean nope? You are leaving in two hours.” I looked at my watch. “Your father hasn’t called me to tell me any plans have been changed. Trust me. If he comes home the day after tomorrow and you are still here he is going to the roof.”

  After spitting some of the olives back into the container Lucas grinned at me and put it back in the fridge.

  “Aren’t you ever going to grow up, Lucas?” I shook my head.

  He gave me the finger.

  "Real mature." I hissed. "Well, you just remember that I'm the one sleeping in your father's bed. There are certain things that he wants that only I can give him. And if you think a temper tantrum from his eighteen-year-old son affects him more than a hummer from me you've got a lot to learn about being a grown-up. Now, run along and finish packing while I call the pilot and see if he can't get you out of here sooner."

  Some people might think what I said was mean but we all know it’s the truth. Before the kid could do anything else I picked up my phone and called Jim. He had been Michael’s pilot for quite a few years now.

  “Do you think you can bump up the flight a little?” I purred into the phone. “Lucas is really excited and can’t wait to get to New Hampshire. It’s all he’s been talking about.”

  “I can probably shave an hour off, Miss Holstom.”

  “That would be great, Jim. I’ll make sure Michael compensates you for accommodating his baby boy. You know there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Lucas.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

  After I hung up the phone I couldn't help feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve. Except for this time I was getting exactly what I wanted and more.

  My mother always used to say it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as it was a poor one. My family had money. My father had worked his way up the corporate ladder at Pepsi-Cola. He died of a massive stroke when he was fifty-eight leaving a very nice life insurance policy pay-out for my mother and me.

  But a couple million dollars doesn't really get a girl very far. It paid for school and college and my real estate license. It also paid for my cozy five bedrooms, three bath home on over six acres of land in Forest Park that I am saving for a rainy day. But as far as I can tell, with Michael, there's nothing but blue skies ahead.

  Plus, with Lucas away at school I’ll have a lot more time to convince Michael of the financial benefits of my taking his last name.

  It's no secret that I love the man's money. It certainly does help and in my opinion, there is more than enough to go around. But, I have feelings for Michael, too. He's fun and likes the finer things in life. Trips abroad. High-end champagne. Fast cars. Yachts. Jets. He knew when he met me that I liked those things, too.

  Is it really wrong to admit that?

  I didn’t think so.

  "Jeez, the whole house smells like a tobacco factory." I couldn't take it anymore. With the air-conditioning running, I yanked open all the doors and windows, turned on the ceiling fans and tried my best to get the smell out.

  Just as I was opening the front door Lucas came downstairs. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with his Nikes and the Rolex his father had given him.

  “Lucas? Where are your bags?”

  “I’m not packing.”

  I clicked my tongue.

  “You need to get your ass back up those stairs, throw something in a suitcase, I don’t care what it is and get your ass ready to leave. Jim is bringing the plane in an hour early and suitcases or no you will be on your dad’s jet.”

  “I said I’m not taking anything.” He snapped. “You can tell my dad that I’m buying new stuff in New Hampshire. I’ll need to furnish my apartment and I hear it gets even colder there than here so I’ll nothing I have here will be warm enough come winter.” He smiled that shit-eating grin of his.

  “Is that so?”

  “ Yeah. I guess I’ll see you guys at Christmas.” Lucas looked at me with eyes as hard a granite. He had some features of his fathers. The broad shoulders and he was at least six feet tall. But everything else favored his mother. It was like I was reminded that she came first every time I looked at Lucas. She’d never be just a memory if he were still around the house. That is why I convinced Michael it would be best for him to get out of the house and start experiencing life on his own.

  Michael agreed that Lucas should go to college earlier. But nothing I said or did convince him that his son should have his allowance of almost ten thousand dollars a month taken away from him.

  “How is he ever going to stand on his own?” I argued.

  “Jenna, I worked this hard so my son would never have to stand alone. He won’t ever go without.”

  Maybe not while Michael was a single father raising his son. But when I officially become Mrs. Michael Brine things will be changing.

  I watched as Lucas walked out the door leaving it wide open behind him and climb into the back seat of an Uber. I guess the limousine was not good enough for him. He was gone and I had the house to myself.

  As I let out a deep sigh I looked and saw the vacant spot on the wall across from the windows in the sunroom.

  “Where the hell is my Erik Hansen painting?”

  Chapter 13 - Tilly

  “Hi, mama!” I yelled into the phone over the static. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. You’re a little choppy but I can hear you. Are you still at the airport?”

  “Yeah. The weather is expected to get better by sundown.” I pointed to the television screen that was broadcasting all blizzard all the time across the screen. “I actually saw a couple of the Airport plows going past and they are starting to clear the runways. That’s a good sign, I think.”

  I had arrived just as the sleet and snow started to fall. But by the time I got to the luggage area and found my bags, the last to be dropped down the carousel, the entire city had been encased in ice.

  There wasn�
��t a single cab in sight. Uber wasn’t on the road at all. And as luck would have it, the Blue Line trains had a derailment due to the ice and they were not pulling out of the station that was beneath the airport.

  “That sounds like they are starting to clear things away.” My mom said hopefully. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll keep Christmas until you get here. Even if it takes until July.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not that long.” I joked. “I’ll call you when I’m on the road.”

  I hung up the phone, took a deep breath, grabbed my suitcase with the wobbly wheel and headed to the food court. As anxious as I was to get home I really wasn’t in bad spirits. I had slept the entire trip from New York so it didn’t feel like it was four hours. I was comfortable and didn’t pack too much stuff so I wasn’t struggling with clumsy and awkward packages and luggage.

  Christmas music was playing. There were twinkling lights and decorations all over the place. I had a good book in my suitcase. Plus, since I traveled on Christmas Eve taking the red-eye to save money there was practically no one in the airport. So, with a enough money in my pocket for a hot toddy and maybe an order of fries I moseyed over the nearest watering hole, a place called Flannigans, ordered myself a Cutty Sark with a cup of coffee grabbed my book and sat down to watch the skeleton crew at work while I read my book.

  Just as I was in the middle of a terribly thrilling scene where the heroine was trapped in an old abandoned car while her tormentors were skulking just outside unaware of her presence I happened to look up.

  I saw a face. I knew who it was. But I went back to my book as if it had been a dream. Did I really see what I thought I saw? I looked up again and there he was.

  How many months had gone by since our tryst in his father's Bentley? How many times had I tried not to cry over the last phone call we had had.

  If it hadn’t been for the exciting first semester at Columbia I may have lost my mind staying home dwelling on what happened and what could have been. But once I stepped off that plane at LaGuardia Airport I had very little time to think about Lucas Prine.

  There were a number of very handsome men in my classes. I had a great roommate. Sandy called once a week and my folks of course called and sent care packages that were the envy of all the other girls in my dorm. Mom sent practical things like granola bars and ramen noodles. But dad had the great idea that I needed fashion magazines, dollar store jewelry always with a matching t-shirt, pepper spray and enough money for a couple of beers with friends and a cab ride home.

  Nope. I hadn’t thought of Lucas Prine in several months. But there he was looking as good as ever. His shoulders looked broader and stronger. His hair was shorter than it had been giving him almost a military look.

  I cupped my chin in my hand and waited to see if he'd notice me. I wasn't the one who had any reason to be embarrassed. I wasn't anything but nice to him. He was the one who thought I'd just drown myself in pills and alcohol because he shot me down. Well, won't he be surprised if he catches a glimpse of me now?

  Plus, I had to admit that I was looking very cute in my new maroon colored yoga pants and a tight black turtleneck. School had also helped me tone up since each day I had one class at one part of the campus and it was inevitable that my second class was as far as possible from the first. Plus, you do a lot of walking in New York City. Cabs are expensive and running to the bus stop had become a kind of sport for some of my friends and me.

  Yup. I knew I was looking adorable. I just wondered if he was feeling as confident about himself that he’d speak to me if he saw me.

  Enough water had passed under the bridge I was really surprised that I wasn't more terrified of bumping into him. He looked well. I would like to ask him how school is going and perhaps even be bold enough to bring up the dreaded Jenna subject. I might even ask him why he thought he needed to be so mean to me in our last phone conversation. But that would let him know I was hurt and I wasn't going to let that happen. As far as he knew I had had a dozen other trysts with a dozen other guys and he was the only one to act like a brat afterward.

  Still, I remembered the words he said. What kind of person I was and where I came from. But something inside was whispering that he had a reason for saying that and it wasn’t because he actually believed it.

  I don’t know. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part that a billionaire like Lucas Prine would be interested in a nobody like me. I mean, isn’t that what all the romance novels are about these days? Still, I remember talking with Lucas and I felt a connection. Maybe he didn’t. But I had faith that he did and chose to ignore it for one reason or another. Boys can be so silly at times.

  I waited. Finally, he looked up from studying some magazine in a rack and our eyes locked. Without thinking I stuck my tongue out at him.

  At first, he pinched his eyebrows together like he was looking at Crazy Mary the bag lady on 42nd Street who liked to expose her privates if you didn’t give her spare change as you walked by.

  It was impossible not to laugh at him. As soon as I did I saw the light bulb go on over his head. He recognized me and blinked his eyes a few times while he just stood there like a dope. That made me laugh even more.

  Finally, I came to his rescue and pulled out the seat next to me, patting it for him to come and sit.

  For a second I was sure he was just going to shake his head and walk away. But he paid for his newspaper and magazine, slung an absolutely gorgeous leather carry-on case over his shoulder and headed in my direction.

  My heart began to race inside my chest and I felt my ears and cheeks tingle with jolly embarrassment.

  “Merry Christmas, Lucas.”

  Chapter 14 – Lucas

  I wasn’t in any hurry to get home. My dad told me in a text that Jenna had planned a huge party on the day I was supposed to fly in. It wasn’t a party for me. It was a Christmas party for her at my father’s house. He didn’t have time to give me a call. That would require he actually speak to me. He stopped actually calling me. Every time he did I asked if he’d dumped Jenna yet. I guess it bothered him to keep telling me no. So I didn’t get any more calls from home. He certainly couldn’t Skype. That was reserved for important business associates and politicians who needed donations. So I got the memo in less than 250 characters on her big Christmas bash one week ago.

  Jenna ‘s family/friends coming to the house for X-mas. Your room still yours. CU then.

  This was the only correspondence my father had had with me since I left at the end of May after graduation except for one other text when he asked if I had purchased a $1600 watch from Cartier. He wanted to make sure no one had stolen his identity. I simply replied YES.

  Now here I was actually enjoying being stranded at the airport for a few hours while the roads get cleared. The longer I was here the less time I’d have to spend at home with Jenna and her family. I couldn’t quite imagine it.

  I could still remember Christmas when my mother was alive. It wasn't that long ago. She wasn't baking cookies and making homemade Christmas presents kind of mom. But she did love to decorate the house. There were pictures of me from a baby dressed in an elf onesie with Santa all the way through eighth grade when I became so cool I wore a dark green Givenchy sweater and perfected the trademark smirk my mom warned me the girls were all going to fall for. She was right.

  We weren't a really religious family but at Christmas time my mom always puts a Capodimonte nativity scene on the fireplace mantel. It was really quite an exquisite thing. All swirly and colorful. Instead of the individual figures being placed in their traditional spots this was one big, fifty-pound depiction of that night in Bethlehem. I remember her telling me it cost $5000 but not to tell my father. Not that my father would have said anything about it. Compared to Jenna my mother was a regular tightwad.

  The year my mother had gotten sick I noticed some strange things turning up in the house. Little prayer books would be lying around. I’d see a gold cross pendant around her neck that
I’d never seen before. There are no atheists in foxholes, I guess.

  After the funeral, my dad and I spent that one Christmas together just the two of us. We had burgers and fries for dinner with some of my dad's favorite red wine from his private collection. We watched a couple of movies on Christmas Eve and on Christmas morning the entire living room was filled with presents for me. Including a Mustang in the garage complete with a big bow around it. I wasn't even old enough to drive. It took the entire day to thoroughly inspect and play with everything. I think that was my dad's goal all along. It kept me occupied and out of his hair.

  In return, I had gotten my dad a subscription to the Robb Report. As a freshman in high school that gift had cost me over one hundred dollars.

  This year I had a very hard time figuring out what to give my father. I knew when I walked in the door that the living room wouldn’t be filled with presents for me. Not that I needed that. If I wanted something now I pretty much just went and bought it. But I’d probably have a couple of designer shirts under the tree and maybe a pair of Italian shoes. But when it came to my old man I didn’t know what to get him. Here it was Christmas Eve and the only thing for him in my bag was my report card. Even that wasn’t as great as it could have been.

  I walked around the airport just to stretch my legs and I looked in every shop there was hoping there might be something I could snag for my dad. The nicest thing I saw was a gold keychain with an onyx embedded in it. I knew no one else would probably buy it so I didn't have to jump on it immediately.