Lucas swung back whatever was left of his Scotch, indicating another hit to the bartender. He took his newly replenished drink, spinning around to look at the room. As he remembered that he wasn't supposed to do so, he noticed a familiar woman further down the bar.
“Veronica Beaumont, celebrity interior designer. Looks like she's having as much fun as I am.”
Didn't her fiancé just dump her? What was the man's name again?
“Something Chazelle or Chazette. Real social climber, never liked the look of him. I'll bet that she doesn't want to be here, especially after what he did to her. ”
She didn't look like she was drinking, only twirling the glass in her hands. Before he knew it, he found himself approaching her, taking his drink with him. Lucas leaned against the bar, crossing his legs at the ankle.
“Ms. Beaumont, your face says exactly what I'm feeling.”
She looked up, frowning. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"
“Maureen's brother—Lucas.”
“Oh, yes, yes. I've seen you around.”
“As I have you. Are you going to drink that or continue to warm it up in your hands? Stiff ones like that are better off cold, or at least room temperature.”
“What's it to you? You've got your own.”
“Yeah, but I'm making use of mine.”
To make a point, he knocked back his, closing one eye as the amber liquid scorched his throat. I've been drinking this for years, but I still experience a burn. He shrugged his shoulders. Feels good though. He could see Veronica shake her head, her manipulated curls moving as well.
“Mr. Ross, don't you have somewhere else to be? Like, say, mingling with the women who cannot take their eyes off of you? Why come to me when I clearly don't need any company?”
“First of all, it's Lucas not Mr. Ross. Secondly, it's pretty simple: you're the only single woman here who isn't after me. Look, I'm not chatting you up or anything, I just need a way of getting these women off my back.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, so I'm some sort of bodyguard? Would you like me to put on a bouncer's outfit and look menacing?”
She doesn't look happy at all, what did I say that was so wrong? Lucas pulled out a bar stool, earning a scowl from the pretty woman.
“I didn't mean that in a negative way if that's what you're thinking,” he said. “You're far better than the rest of these women here, who have dollar signs in their eyes whenever they look at me. I was growing tired of sitting by myself, trying to ignore their stares.”
He jumped a bit when she slammed her glass on the table, a bit of her drink sloshing out.
“Sheesh, but you think a lot about yourself, don't you? Everything is me, me, me, me. Maybe those women aren't looking at you, did you think of that?”
The woman is ready to bite my head off! And no wonder, she must be feeling some type of way towards men after what that guy did to her. Lucas had a healthy respect for women, he would have never treated his own fiancée in such a way. If I ever choose to take the plunge and get married, it will be a lifetime commitment. I'm not into this juvenile act of swapping partners at the last minute.
“How much do you wanna bet that those women's eyes are trained on me?”
“I'm not a betting woman, it's a waste of money.”
“No, not money, but good company. You agree to be my bodyguard-slash-company if I win.”
“And if I win?”
“Then I'll leave you alone. Deal?”
Lucas held out his hand, waiting for her to shake on it. For a second, he thought that she wouldn't agree, but she took his hand in hers, shaking it firmly.
“Deal.”
Chapter 2
Ruth couldn't believe that she'd agreed to this stupid deal. What is wrong with me? Don't I have anything better to do than to make deals with self-centered playboys? And yet here she was, watching him make his point. He walked past the women to the balcony, making sure to make no eye contact with them. The women watched him, some even standing up from their seats to get a better look. No, that doesn't mean anything. If a good-looking man were to pass me, I would also look, maybe not as blatantly as these women, but I would look. Ruth raised her eyebrows when one of the more bold women left her seat and followed him.
“Sheesh, that is one forward woman. When did it become so fashionable to chase a guy?”
Despite her earlier irritation, Ruth found herself enjoying his comical act. Look at him posing at the balcony, he's milking the attention. A wind had picked up outside, blowing his blond hair about. The guy could be a model—if he isn't one already. Not even George was this good-looking, and he was yummy. People that look like this usually have a big head about themselves. Where was the fairness in life when men like him looked this good, had money, and everything that they could possibly want or need in life? He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, while my Mama and I had to struggle through everything! I had to fight to make a name for myself, to be taken seriously and not looked down upon, and here he walks about with the world in his hands. The man had to be somewhere in his thirties but carried himself like a twenty-something year old. Yeah, when you don't have a worry in the world, you can afford to look like that. The woman reached Lucas, putting a hand on his arm, but he stepped away from her, shaking his head while smiling.
“I wonder what he's saying to her, she looks pretty disappointed.”
She watched as he walked away from her, going to stand in a different part of the busy room, but still, the eyes of the women followed him. Lucas mingled with the guests for a bit before coming to stand next to her again.
"So, what's your verdict, your honor? Am I guilty of lying, or innocent of all the charges you've laid against me?”
Ruth raised her glass to her mouth, looking at the women over the rim of her glass. They're still looking at him! Ugh, I hate being wrong.
“It seems that you're right, Mr. Ross, they are most definitely looking at you.”
He frowned. “I'm pretty sure that I told you to call me Lucas.”
“You're an odd man, you know that? I just told you that you were right and yet you're complaining about the fact that I called you Mr. Ross? Which is more important?”
“Veronica, I'm always right, I just wanted to prove it to you. I just don't like pretty women like you calling me Mr. Ross.”
A chuckle escaped her. “What is this? Where do you think your compliments are going to get you?”
“Exactly what they just did. I was wondering if you smiled at all, or if you kept that grumpy look on your face to deter men.”
“It can't be all that grumpy if you're still here.”
“You don't scare me, Veronica. In fact, I don't scare all that easily.”
"Mhmm, I see that. You're still here, badgering me. You either have a hard head, or you're too confident to believe that any woman would reject you. Which one is it?"
He seemed to think about it for a moment, scratching his chin as he did so.
"Well, both I guess. It's hard to pick between the two."
“You're kidding, right?”
His face became comically serious. “Deadly so.”
Ruth turned away from him, shaking her head. The man was too much and she didn't need his constant chattiness. What she wanted to do was wallow in her pity without interruption. Why did I even come here in the first place? Why didn't I stay at home with my own bottle of wine and chocolates? Lovely dark chocolates with orange pieces, and a bottle of chilled dry white wine, that's what I need, not this.
“Veronica? Hey, I didn't mean to make you mad or anything, I just—”
As he reached out to touch her shoulder, she turned on him, fire flashing in her eyes.
“Oh my gosh, why won't you leave me alone?” she hissed. “First, I've had to deal with this sickeningly joyous occasion and pretend to be happy when I'm not, and now you're pestering me. What will it take for you to leave me alone?”
Lucas' eyes widened. “You have your wish, Ms. Beaumont,
I won't trouble you again.”
He walked away from her, but instead of feeling better she only felt worse. Ruth looked away, putting her chin in her hands. Talk about a miserable day. The innocent-looking drink in her hand looked appealing right about now. She'd been putting off drinking it, but now it seemed like a really good idea. Ruth knocked it back in one go, coughing as it burned down her throat. Her face contorted into a grimace, her eyes closed. It took a while before she cracked her eyes open to sniff the glass.
“What the hell did I just drink?”
The bartender looked up from the glass he was drying, his smile lopsided.
“Honey, that was a vodka shot. Looked like you needed one, but you weren't supposed to drink it all in one go.”
“A vodka shot? I didn't ask for a shot.”
“You didn't ask for anything specific, you just asked me to give something strong.”
How could she complain about that? She'd asked the guy for something strong, and he'd given it to her. Ruth pushed her glass to him.
“I think that I should have a coffee now, I still have to drive home, you know.”
“Why not ask Mr. Ross to take you home?”
Ruth frowned at the bartender. “Why would I do that? I hardly know the guy. Just what are you insinuating? That I pick up guys and go home with them?”
He held up his hands. “Geez Louise, I wasn't insinuating a thing, Ma'am! Mr. Ross is a cool guy, that's the kind of thing he does. This wouldn't be the first time that he's done it, he's always helping people out, you know.”
Ruth sighed. She was overreacting again, just as she'd done with Lucas. I just need to leave and go home.
“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to snap at you.”
“Bad day?” he asked.
"No, bad life," she said, sliding off the barstool. "Thanks for the drink, I should get home now."
Ruth took a step forward, stopping when the room tilted. Or am I tipping? Shaking her head, she took another step, stopping again when her mind started to spin.
“I think that I'm tipsy.”
She felt a hand take her arm, steadying her.
“Boy, but you're a lightweight. Come, let me help you to a chair and I'll bring you some coffee.”
“You again?”
“Yeah, me again. Just keep quiet and let me help you.”
Usually, Ruth would have argued—she was no weakling! But she wasn't a drinker, either, and she'd just taken a shot in one go. She allowed Lucas to guide her to a chair, her cheeks staining with color as people stared at her. Why did I ever think that a drink could solve my problems? Did they ever solve my mother's issues? Ruth leaned into him, begrudgingly grateful for his solid body. Lucas took her to a chair away from everyone, a thoughtful move on his part. At least he's not making it a big deal. She sat down with a heavy thud, marveling at the fact that the chair didn't break.
“Thank you, Lucas.”
“Don't mention it. I'll get you a coffee.”
“Wait, listen; I'm not a drunkard, okay? I just had one shot.”
“Yeah, I know that. Sit tight, I'll be back in a minute.”
He left her alone for a moment, returning quickly with the most robust cup of black coffee she'd ever seen.
“That looks lethal.”
“About as lethal as the vodka you had.”
“You knew it was vodka?”
“Yeah, I know my alcohol. Why? Didn't you know?”
“Nope.”
He grinned. “Well, you took it like a champ, that's for sure.”
Ruth grimaced. “But I didn't handle it like a champ, did I?”
“Don't beat yourself up about it, not everyone is meant to be a drinker. I, on the other hand, can take five of those quite comfortably.”
“You're kidding—five?”
“Veronica, why do I get the feeling that you're stalling? Drink your coffee, it's the only way you're about to clear that fog in your brain. By the way, did you eat something?”
“I tried to eat what was served earlier on, but I had no appetite for it.”
“No wonder you were about to go down like a ton of bricks! Don't you know that you're not supposed to drink on an empty stomach?”
“Yeah, I know, I know.”
Ruth took a sip of the drink, shivering at the sheer strength of the coffee.
“Is there just coffee in here, or did you pour in something else? I feel like my insides will be coated with black tar from the strength of this. Did you make it?”
“You're such a wuss, you know that? Give it here, let me taste it.”
She gave him the cup, covering her giggles when he took a sip and made the exact same expression she'd had just moments before.
“See? And you called me a wuss!”
“I got this out of the machine in the hallway, don't blame it on me.”
"Sheesh, this building has everything, doesn't it? Your sister must have spent a fortune hiring this hotel. But you'll have to complain about the coffee—this doesn't represent them very well. They should get in a barista to make coffee whenever guests are present."
She could also do a lot about the interior. Although it was perfectly acceptable, there was so much more they could do with it to make it more appealing to the eye, particularly the bar area.
“Thanks, I'll take your suggestions into consideration.”
Ruth frowned. “You'll take it into consideration?”
“Yeah, I own the building.”
He said it without a stitch of pride, as if it were nothing to him.
"You're kidding? No, don't answer that—of course, you do. You're Lucas Ross, multi-billionaire, philanthropist, and most eligible bachelor of the year."
He grinned. “I didn't know that you knew me so well.”
“I don't know anything that a gossip magazine hasn't already published to the public, and before you ask me if I read such trashy magazines, let me tell you that I only do it to keep up with what's happening with potential high-profile clients.”
Lucas shrugged, not saying anything. I guess he's not all that bothered about it, probably because he's always in them. Her head was still swimming a bit so she sat back in the chair, closing her eyes.
“No more vodka shots for me, or any alcohol for that matter. I don't know what I was thinking by drinking it when I'm not much of a drinker. I'll take some red wine at times, maybe a little white wine, some champagne, but never a full glass of it. Sheesh, I just know that I'm going to wake up with a headache tomorrow.”
"Eat a fatty meal when you get home or a fatty breakfast like bacon and eggs. I find that a high-fat meal soaks up any alcohol in my body."
“Ugh, I cannot imagine eating anything fatty right now or tomorrow for that matter. I'll keep two pain pills near my bed for when I wake up. No offense, Lucas, but I really shouldn't have come to your sister's wedding.”
"You and me both. I only came because I was part of the bridal party, and of course, it's my sister—I couldn't exactly say no."
“Don't you like weddings?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What man likes weddings? It's usually a woman's thing.”
“Not my thing, that's for sure.”
Not after George broke her trust and got married to another woman. I was looking forward to getting married, I really was. I loved the man completely, overlooking all his faults to keep him happy, but what did that get me?
“Yeah, I heard about what happened with your fiancé. The guy was an idiot, I hope that you know that.”
Ruth wasn't sure how to react to Lucas' comment, but snapping wasn't going to make the situation any better. The guy has been nothing but friendly, what's the point of getting mad at him?
“I wish I knew that he was an idiot before I accepted his proposal. You know my reasons for not wanting to be here, what's your reason besides it not being a man's thing?”
"My parents are pushing me to get married as well and I'm just not ready for that. I don't know if I'll ever be, to be hon
est."
She frowned. “Aren't you a little too old to have your parents dictate your life?”
“Yeah, I am, but it's a little more complicated than that. Let's just say that they're dangling something above my head that I want but can't get unless I get married.”
“You're serious? I thought that kind of thing only happens in the movies.”
"Yeah, you're telling me. It's ridiculous, but what can I do about it? It's either get married and get what I want or not get married and have it given to a deadbeat who doesn't deserve it. I think that I should disown my parents."
That's the last thing that he should want to do. If Ruth could have her mother with her again, she would be the happiest woman alive.
"Nah, you don't mean that. Besides, you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family, right?"
He rolled his eyes. “Right. I guess that I've just had it with these ultimatums.”
“And I've had it with the pitying looks. Maybe we should get married, that would solve both our problems.”
Ruth watched Lucas' expression, trying to keep a straight face, but couldn't.
“I'm just playing with you, Lucas—relax!”
“No, why not get married?”
That shut her up quickly. Was he serious?
*****
Lucas couldn't believe that he was actually saying this, but he was deadly serious about it.
“Yeah, why not get married and treat it like a business deal?”
"Lucas, this isn't some movie or book where people do this sort of thing. Don't you think that it's a bit... I don't know, crazy?"
Yeah, it does sound crazy, but it's crazy enough to work. He just needed Veronica to think so.
“Just think about it, Veronica. You're tired of people seeing you as the woman who was jilted, and I need to get married. Why not get married to each other?”
Lucas could see that she was as shocked as he was for even thinking about this seriously, but he was desperate.
“How would this look to everyone? That we met at your sister's wedding and then suddenly we got married? Who's going to believe such a story? We're like chalk and cheese! We have nothing in common, we hardly know each other, and I just worked on your sister's house! People might say that I'm some sort of gold-digger who has seduced you and trapped you into marriage! Nuh-uh, this is not a good idea, alright? Forget that I ever said anything about it.”
Ruth and Lucas Page 2
