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“Thanks, and you’re a green goddess. Wow. That dress. Barclay got held up at work. Something about a writer named Don Black.”
“No worries.”
“We’ll catch up later. Call me tomorrow. You’re busy with the man of the hour. Who knew? I’m so happy for you both.”
I gave her an air kiss on the cheeks, not wanting to leave a red set of lips on them.
Lucas and I stood near the head table, greeting those arriving. And he never let me leave his side. It felt like I’d been introduced to over a hundred people, curious to meet me, the woman who finally caught Manhattan’s wild tiger—in their words. To me, he was as tame as a pussycat.
When Lucas walked onto the raised stage to speak about his foundation, I’d never been prouder of anyone in my life. He’d come such a long way from the lonely, grumpy Herb I’d met months ago.
“Years ago, my mother, Lilly Shaw, experienced a head injury and never fully recovered. She was fortunate in that our family could afford her care.” Lucas paused. “But not every family can navigate a loved one’s care. I spoke with medical professionals, asking them what one of the greatest needs was with their traumatic brain injury patients. The overwhelming response was transportation. Getting the patients to their appointments. I saw a need and, along with Jared Johnson, created the C.A.R. Foundation.”
Tears started to fall, and an older gentleman pulled a tissue from his pocket, handing it to me.
“Here you go, Magnolia.” I smiled through the clouds, thanking the sweet man. I loved finding Manhattan men knew how to be proper gentlemen. It was like discovering a unicorn.
After Lucas finished his speech, he introduced J.J., who spoke about the logistics of the operations. A family member for a TBI patient shared their experiences at the end, asking those in the audience to get involved with the foundation. Everyone at their tables began filling out cards. Several owners of corporations pledged to underwrite projects, especially those in rural areas.
The crowd dispersed after the program ended. “It looks like the only thing left to do is turn off the lights.” Lucas laughed as we looked around the ballroom. All the hotel staff had left the room too.
On the drive back to the apartment, I rested my head on Lucas’s shoulder. “I was so proud of you tonight.”
“It was the first time I felt something good come out of the tragedy I caused.”
“You have, Lucas. And you saved your mother. She’s been doing so much better. Especially since we stay with her so often in Greenwich.”
“Life is better, and it all started with you.” He pulled me onto his lap, holding me in his arms. “Have you checked Page Six yet?”
“You think there’ll be photos up already?”
“Are you kidding? They’ve been there for over an hour.”
I punched him on the shoulder, in a light, teasing way. “I can’t believe you’ve held out this long. You’re so mean.”
“I wanted to see your reaction in private. The headline is quite interesting.” He waggled his brows.
I reached across the seat and grabbed my clutch, pulling out my phone. I clicked on The New York Post app, going straight to the Page Six section. Whoa. There Lucas and I were, beaming in a photo of us on the red carpet. The headline read:
“Lucas Shaw is off NYC’s Most Eligible Bachelor List.” I clicked off the screen. “You bet he is.”
I could hear and feel Lucas’s laugh against my chest. “As if it was ever a question once I found you again.”
38
Lucas
Me: Landed. Heading home. Are you still up?
A few minutes went by before the bubbles appeared, indicating an incoming response. At least I knew she wasn’t asleep yet.
Maggie: Yes, barely. I thought you weren’t coming home until tmrw.
Me: I couldn’t wait. I have something exciting to tell you.
Maggie: Like where you’ve been for two days?
Me: Yes. You’ll never guess.
Maggie: K. Now I’m up.
My driver was waiting for me near the private jet terminal entrance. I tossed my bag in the back seat, wanting to get home ASAP. Who had time to even open the trunk?
I’d lucked out. The late evening traffic was light, so we sped down the highway, hitting the streets of midtown in record time. I had my hand on the door handle before the car came to a stop at my building. I thanked my driver and raced inside and up the elevator.
My hands were sweating as I entered the access number to the apartment. When I heard the lock click, I took a deep breath. It was show time. I just hoped Maggie didn’t throw tomatoes at me when I finished telling her my news.
The apartment was almost pitch-black. Esmé’s door was closed; she’d likely been asleep for hours. I checked our bedroom, thinking Maggie might have drifted off to sleep. Yet, she wasn’t there either.
