He raises his hands in surrender before turning over the keys and opening the door. I decide against tipping him but make a mental note to ask Lucan about it later. It is much easier to lower myself into the driver’s seat this time with my nerves intact. Leo shuts the door and steps back.
Once the key is in the ignition the computer screen in the middle of the dash blinks to life. “Setting Driver Preferences” it reads. The seat, mirrors, and steering column begin to adjust to my height. “Welcome Abri,” says a disembodied voice.
Lucan must have programmed it this morning. How early did that man get out of bed? While I wait for the set up to complete itself, I touch the button for the CD player. The Radiohead song we heard the night before begins to thunder through the speakers so I back it up and start it again.
“Set up Complete,” the voice confirms.
“Thank you.” I mouth to Leo through the heavily tinted glass. He motions for me to roll down the window.
“Your security card is in the glove box, ma’am. I’m sorry I forgot to mention it earlier.”
“Awesome. Thanks again, Leo.”
I haven’t driven in months, since the last time I visited my mom, and it feels strange to behind the wheel. The gas pedal is sensitive but not uncontrollable. I hope Leo is watching because I don’t scratch the transmission at all on the way out. The computer screen flashes again and a navigation screen appears.
“Calculating route to 60 Lafayette Street, Manhattan.”
It is a good thing too, because I have no idea how to get to the courthouse by car, only subway and bus. Maybe it knows where to park as well.
It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the courthouse and I am able to park the car about a block away. If my hearing is short enough I plan to drive the car a little more before returning it. There is a promise of snow in the air today and I snuggle into the cashmere coat a little before getting out of the car, imagining that it smells a little of Lucan’s cologne.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The hearing lasts just over an hour and I have to stop myself from running back to the garage. I decide to try to find the Enclave again using the navigation system. The NAV screen is up and prompts me for an address. I enter 726 Carlisle and press OK.
“Address not found.”
Okay, so maybe that is not such a good idea. Plus, I might run into that creepy valet guy with the vampire rule problem again. It’s nearly lunchtime; I might as well just head back to the office to meet Linds and Max. I send Linds a quick text at the next red light to let her know I’m on the way back.
It takes twice as long to return to the Chrysler as it did to get to Court. Now I remember why I‘ve never had a car here. I pull around to the rear and open the glove box to retrieve the black card. I’m a little bummed it doesn’t have my name on it in silvery script. The gate opens and I drive in slowly, careful not to let it bottom out.
Leo is nowhere to be seen so I decide to take the keys with me; I’ll just give them back to Lucan tonight. My phone buzzes with a text from Linds just as I get into the service elevator. They are heading downstairs for lunch and will wait for me. As luck would have it, they are in the elevator directly across from the service elevator and we arrive in the lobby at the same time.
“Abri? What are you doing on the Service Elevator?” Lindsey asks.
“I, uh, I was just checking to see where it goes. Just noticed it the other day and I was curious,” I lie badly. Lindsey knows I have never been curious about anything to do with elevators. I give her a weak smile. “I just got your text. Let’s head out before the crowd gets worse. I’ll just carry my file with me.”
“Okay.” Lindsey sounds unconvinced but doesn’t question me further.
I’m sure she will think of plenty of questions between here and the restaurant. My new coat keeps me warmer than the old one ever did on our two-block hike to the restaurant. I can’t help snuggling into it again. This time I am sure I smell Lucan’s cologne on the lapels.
“Nice coat. Is it new too? It goes well with that suit.” Max hisses at me quietly, so the others do not hear.
“Thank you, Max. It is,” I reply, ignoring his tone. I have never known him to be so snarky…with me at least.
As predicted, Geisha Sushi is getting crowded. The waitress shows us to a table for four near the windows. The cold is radiating inside so I keep my coat on. As soon as we place our drink orders and the waitress leaves my companions launch into their questioning as expected.
“Spill,” Lindsey commands as she pulls off her bulky coat with some help from Brooks.
“I did this morning. Nothing’s changed since then. I was in Court.” I didn’t really spill anything this morning, but I’m not going to start now. I still needed some time to sort it out my own.
“I mean about why you were in the Service Elevator. That thing only goes to the basement and the loading dock. Creepy.”
“Like I said, I was curious. I wanted to see if it went to the 30th floor. Like an alternate route to avoid the masses or something. I just noticed it the other day and I wanted to check it out.” The last part is at least true; I did just notice it last night. Max is being uncharacteristically quiet during all of this. I glance over at him and he is scowling at me. “What Max? Do you think I’m lying?”
“I didn’t say that,” he retorts. He doesn’t need to.
I am no good at keeping secrets. While I am not really sure my seeing Lucan or borrowing his car is intended be a secret, I nevertheless feel I owe it to myself, and him, to keep it one for now. I know Brooks will shit when he finds out about my excursion today; he is a big foreign sports car fan. We bored Lindsey for a good thirty minutes on the topic last night.
“So why don’t you guys tell me about last night after I left. It seems like you must have closed the placed down.”
“Oh,” Lindsey gasps. “Lemme tell you. These two started talking sports and more cars and micro-brewed beer. It was like I didn’t exist. You better never leave me alone at happy hour again.” I wait for Lindsey to laugh at her own joke, but she doesn’t. She just crosses her arms and gives Max and Brooks a dirty look.
“Speaking of cars,” Brooks interjects. “I went to meet a client’s car out front this morning and I saw the craziest thing. Someone was coming around the corner like a bat out of hell in the hottest Lotus I’ve ever seen. You guys would have loved it. It was one of next year’s models that are not even out yet. I read an article on them in Car and Driver last summer.”
I nearly choke on my hot tea. I hadn’t been very bat like, had I? The irony of his choice of metaphor nearly chokes me again. “Wow. I read that article, too. I’d really like to drive one of those babies!” I say, unable to resist prodding him to drool a little more over my—Lucan’s toy.
“Geez, Abri, not you too.” Lindsey is clearly tired of all the manly talk. “I liked it better when all we talked about was reality T.V. and celebrity gossip.”
The waitress picks up our order sheets and tops off Max’s tea before disappearing again. I try to steer the conversation away from anything that might make me the center of attention until our food arrives. “How late were you at Charlie’s?”
“We waited until closing for you to come back for your coat. I tried to call you before we left, but you didn’t answer,” Linds says. I automatically reach into my purse to check my phone for her missed call. I haven’t checked it since yesterday after work and there are four missed calls. The waitress returns with our food and nearly knocks over my tea at the exact moment I decide to retrieve the Evora’s key from my pocket and stash it in my purse. Instinctively I reach out to steady the cup, key in hand.
I jerk my hand back down under the table but it’s too late. Brooks’ eyes are about to pop out of his head. Lotus has a very distinctive key design, definitely nothing like your typical domestic models. If you know enough about Lotus to recognize an unreleased model, you’d recognize the key.
“Oh wow, look at the time. We better e
at fast.” I’m trying once again to change the subject. “How are your salmon rolls, Max?”
He looks confused, obviously noticing Brooks’ bug-eyed routine, but responds anyways. “Great. How’s yours?”
“Wonderful,” I smile. “So who ended up with my coat? I’m sorry I didn’t answer Linds. I don’t think I had good cell coverage where I was.” Now that is a lie as the five floors above Lucan’s apartment housed radio, television, and cellular phone transmitters. There is probably no better place in the city to get coverage.
“It’s in my office. Wait, where did you get that coat?”
Everyone is so concerned with my clothing today. I notice Brooks trying to get a look in my purse as he wolfs down his California rolls. I hate being the center of attention. It makes me want to cop to everything, just to get it off my chest, but I know that will only lead to more questioning.
“It’s old. I’ve had it.” Lindsey doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t push the subject and we move on to other mindless topics of conversation.
I am relieved when the waitress finally brings our checks. God, don’t let me pull out the Enclave card instead of my Visa, I think. Max will know straight away what it is. Brooks leans towards me again, eyeing the opening of my purse. I cannot resist the urge to give him a knowing smile.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Back upstairs after lunch I am glad to be in the quiet retreat of my office. I ask Max not to disturb me and to hold all calls for at least an hour. My brain decompresses while I check my email and Facebook. My next appointment isn’t until four o’clock so that gives me at least three hours before anyone will want or miss me. The thought is barely out of my head when my inbox sounds the arrival of a new message from none other than vmpr1479. Who did he think he was fooling with that email? I open it.
Dearest, Do me the honor of dinner again this evening. I trust you enjoyed your new toy this morning. I know your friend Brooks did.
I am not the least be surprised or offended that he was watching me this morning. I’d keep an eye on a near stranger borrowing my expensive toys too. I hit reply.
Luke, for someone who doesn’t eat you sure are fixated on food…
No, not funny. Delete, delete, delete…
Lucan, My answer is yes, so long as I’m not the main course…
Delete…That probably isn’t too funny either.
Lucan, yes. When and Where?
Simple, forward, and to the point. I hit send. My phone vibrates in my purse. There is a new text from a number I do not know: “My apartment.” It has to be Lucan. I touch the number on the screen to dial it.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” he chides. I melt at the sound of his voice.
“Probably, but you are a better distraction.” The words fall causally out of my mouth as if we actually know each other. “Thank you for the suit and the coat. But how exactly does one get suits and cars that are not available for sale yet to present as gifts?”
“You’re welcome, love.” I swear the amps are coming through the phone. His voice is intoxicating and I don’t care he’s left my question unanswered. “I can expect you for dinner around seven? Or later if you need to work.”
Work. What is work? Oh right, work. “No, seven is good, or earlier. No one works late on days after a happy hour. It’s all we can do to suffer the hangovers until lunch.”
“Come up whenever you’re free. I’ll be there. I hope you like Italian.” He hangs up before I can answer. Ordinarily I despise people that don’t say goodbye to end a phone call, but with Lucan, it is sexy and James Bond-like.
The next email in my inbox is from a dating website. Someone has viewed my profile and left a message. No need for that anymore. Delete. The next several emails advertise a firm retreat and in-house training opportunity in the Poconos; the firm’s softball league is starting again at the end of March; and Dave in accounting is missing his lunch from the communal fridge. It’s nothing that requires my immediate attention. My mind begins to wonder back to last night, rather early this morning.
I woke up alone, but had Lucan slept in the bed with me? What would that feel like? No, Lucan was not that presumptuous. If he slept at all, I am sure it was on the couch.
Picturing him on the couch reminds me of seeing him there last night in that tight undershirt. I can’t help thinking of the monstrous bathtub either. My imagination starts to combine the two until I remember those warnings on hairdryers that caution against putting them in water. Bath time with Lucan might be more than I bargained for. Still, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like, assuming I didn’t need CPR afterwards. I am deep in thought when Max knocks on my door.
“Your four o’clock is here,” he announces. He has a cup of coffee in his hands. “I figured you didn’t get much sleep last night and that you could use this.” He holds out the latte.
“Thanks Max. You rock. You know that, right?” I am pretty tired. Apparently, being unconscious doesn’t count towards your recommended eight hours and I am averaging far less than that this week. I have a feeling tonight will be more of the same.
“I know. Listen, Abri, everything is okay, right? You seem different today. Not in a bad way, just different.” He sounds genuinely concerned.
I want so badly to ask him what he knows but if I’m wrong I risk outing Lucan and making an idiot of myself. I reach up and absent-mindedly rub the side of my neck just to test his awareness. If he knows anything remotely close to what I am dealing with this will set him off. He blanches, ever so slightly, but continues on.
“You had a good time last night, I guess? He was nice?”
“Of course, Max. Everything is fine. A lot of first date jitters and excitement, that’s all. I just haven’t had a lot of sleep the last few nights. Really, that’s all it is.”
“Mmm Hmm.” He looks down his nose at me and raises an eyebrow.
“No, not that. I was up tossing and turning the night before and last night, well… I just didn’t get a full night’s rest.” I am about to explode. Against my better judgment, I relent. I know I can trust Max with this little bit of dirt, that he will keep it to himself if I ask him to. He is only a gossip queen when it doesn’t count. “Max, I didn’t go home last night.” Oh! It felt so much better to get that off my chest.
“I know. Why else would you need a borrowed suit and coat?” His face dares me to deny it’s true.
“Just don’t spread it around. I’m not sure the suit is exactly borrowed, but I only took it because I couldn’t very well show up to work in last night’s party dress. And I left my coat at the bar and it’s cold outside.” I suddenly feel a little defensive about Lucan’s gifts. I had logical reasons for accepting them. Well, maybe not for the Evora…
“Don’t worry, I’m not telling,” he confirms. “But your four o’ clock is here and he’s a doozy.”
I glance at my calendar: Jeff Hayfield, Child Support Modification. That can’t be too bad. “Show him back.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Max was right, Mr. Hayfield was a doozy and not used to being told no. I could barely keep a straight face when he informed me he would no longer be paying child support because his sixteen-year-old daughter was dating a twenty five year old man against his wishes. My explanation that he is required to pay unless he wants full custody goes unheeded for the better part of our consultation. I am relieved when he finally decides he is better off paying than fighting. A teenage daughter at home will cramp his weekend yacht parties in the harbor. I show Mr. Hayfield out and go to see if Max is still around. I find him dozing off at his desk.
“Dude, it’s time to go home.”
“Dude,” he repeats, clearly annoyed. I have no idea why he hates that word, but he does.
“I’m going home, good sir. I need a stiff drink after Mr. Hayfield. I can’t say I’m sad he will not be retaining me.” My mood is drastically improving with my dinner with Lucan just moments away. Max grabs his coat and shoos me out of his office as he turns
off the light.
When we get to the elevators, I realize I have a problem. I am not ready for Max to know where Lucan lives; he’s liable to invite himself up to check out the place. Once we are in the main lobby I feign remembrance of a file I want to review. Max protests a bit, but I assure him I am capable of finding a file on my own desk. Reluctantly, he lets me go back up to the office alone.
I get in and press the button for the 66th floor. By the time I get into the rickety elevator that will take me the last leg of my journey, I can hear opera music playing. Lucan’s boots come into view above my head as the elevator’s grate clears the next floor.
“Honey, I’m home!” I call out as I clear the last few feet before the door will open. I cringe a little. I am not one hundred percent sure he didn’t taken my statements about staying forever in his apartment a little too seriously the night before. “It smells great in here, what are you cooking?”
Lucan is grinning wildly. I hope that means he understands my joke.
“Welcome home, love.” I guess he does.
Lucan pulls the grate back and ushers me into the apartment. The lights are lower than the night before and there are candles lit in various places. Romantic and not the least bit cheesy. I have never actually had a candle lit dinner with a man before, so even if it is cheesy I don’t care.
My dating experiences are extremely limited. A few brief relationships in high school and a guy senior year in college. We did the long distance thing my first semester in law school, but the miles and the demands of torts, con law, and property brought that to an end. He had been nice enough but emotionally void when it really counted. He couldn’t understand why I spent so much time with my nose in a book. Then there is the string of short-term pseudo-relationships I’ve managed over the past few years that have barely made it past a third date. Oh, and who could forget my foray into online dating; that worked out well. Not. Enough of my ramblings though, I am not in the mood to rehash failed relationships, especially not in front of a new relationship that can hear my jaded thoughts.
42nd & Lex Page 8
