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She desired that sense of self without the stress of hunger, survival, and constantly seeking shelter. She watched women her age every day go about their lives with a sense of purpose. Evelyn wanted to find out what her purpose in this life was. It couldn’t be to simply satisfy Lucian and protect her mother. She needed to do something for herself, and that need knocked more and more as she adjusted to the security of her new life.
She had some ideas requiring her to meet with a few dealers about her jewelry. Patrice and the girls at the salon had commented on her work and asked her to make them bracelets.
She mentioned her plans to Lucian about maybe selling her items and asked him if he thought it was a good idea, trusting him to tell her if he thought it was stupid. He didn’t. He said he would think about it, but then went on a tangent about production and marketing and stuff that had nothing to do with the creating and design aspects. Suddenly feeling in over her head, she decided to just make trinkets for friends for a while.
Friends. She had never really had friends. The realization had her smiling several times throughout the week as she let it sink in. Lots of things were sinking in that week, things she never spent much time reflecting on in the city. Perhaps it was the peacefulness of the estate that helped her see things a little more clearly.
She’d come such a long way from where she was. Like Lucian said, she was breaking out of the mold. Even Parker had found himself a job. Everything just seemed so . . . perfect. And with that sense of perfection came a stark and frightening paranoia. Nothing lasts forever.
They were due to return to the city tomorrow. While she was sad to leave the estate, Lucian now seemed high-strung, almost hyper. Perhaps he was getting cabin fever and anxious to return to work. She wasn’t used to seeing him that way. He was nervous, but also euphoric, as though something big was on the horizon.
She watched him throughout dinner, wondering if he had heard from a colleague, maybe gotten some good news about a deal or something. They finished dessert and he cleared away the plates with an asinine grin on his face.
She laughed. “What’s with you? You’ve been grinning like that all day.”
He stilled as if to consider her statement. Shrugging, he said, “I’m happy.”
As he cleared the rest of the dishes, he paused to brush several kisses to her lips whenever he leaned over the table, but every time she tried for more he pulled away.
“I’m going to go change into sweats,” she said, standing and carrying the last dish to the sink.
Lucian stilled.
She looked at him, trying to make sense of his mood. “Is that okay?”
“Of course. Do you want to have a match after you’re done?”
“Sure.”
He turned and kissed her slow and long, leaving her head a little fuzzy as she walked upstairs. After slipping into an oversized white crew-neck sweater and a pair of navy blue yoga pants, she pulled up her hair and headed down to the library. Music was softly playing and the lights were dim.
She paused at the door when she saw the candles flickering from the sconces on the walls. “You’re trying to throw off my game by distracting me with ambiance, aren’t you? I’ve gotten too good for you. I knew I would.” She buffed her nails on her shoulder. “Prepared to be defeated.”
He chuckled and pulled out the heavy, ornate chessboard. Evelyn settled onto the floor across from him as he lifted the lid off the velvet-lined box and carefully removed each ivory piece. She was always white.
“Do you remember our first game?” he asked.
How could she forget? Heat crawled up her throat as she sipped the glass of wine Lucian had poured her.
“Yes.” As the crystal rim pressed to her lips she hid a smile. “You may have captured my king, but if I remember correctly, I still walked away with my panties intact.”
His hand froze over the ivory bishop he was placing beside her queen, and he chuckled. “You looked at me with those big doe eyes. What was I supposed to do?”
“Exactly what you did, be a gentleman and let me walk away with at least a shred of dignity.”
“That shred was a thong. My thoughts were anything but gentlemanly,” he mumbled as he lifted the lid off the box of onyx pieces. “Do you remember what I said to you that night?”
“That the king can do whatever he wants?” She smiled cheekily and he smirked.
They really were comfortable with each other. She never had to worry about what she said or fear he would laugh at her for being so uninformed about normal everyday things.
