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Hunter waggles his eyebrows and I laugh, knowing exactly what kind of “goopy mess” he’s thinking of.
The waiter returns, placing two tiny cups in front of us. I open my mouth, holding up a finger, yet he is already gone, serving another customer. My bottom lip sticks out as I turn my gaze down at the tiniest cup of coffee I’ve ever seen.
I’m in Paris, I remind myself. One of the most amazing cities in Europe.
I need to stop comparing things to back home and be happy with what I have.
I take a sip and grimace at the strong bitterness that assaults my tongue.
6
LUCAS
I sit in the blue velvet chair, watching men and women walk by, dressed in black and navy suits. I’m not quite dressed to impress with my dark denim jeans and mybutton-downshirt, but I don’t want to seem desperate in front of Samuel. I don’t need him thinking that he has the upper hand. The guy could be manipulative. That’s one thing I remembered about Samuel Allen. It’s also the one thing that made him an exceptional lawyer. He’s adept at manipulating the law to get what he wants.
I don’t want to be on his bad side.
The receptionist catches my gaze and offers me a small smile. Her eyelashes flutter and I inhale deeply, feeling both frustrated and worried while I look away. The old Lucas would have been leaning against her desk, wondering how to get her out of her skirt, probably inviting her for some mid-afternoon cocktails. Yet, all I can think about is Rachel and my ruined summer plans with her.
I frown, staring at the blue seat in front of me. I should have planned this better, found some internship that would have made them happy and then bailed half way through it. Now, I’m going to have to readjust everything.
I lean back in the chair, gazing up at the chandelier hanging above me, scowling at how gaudy this office is. The only thing I ask for, I pray to the chandelier, the only thing I must do, is take Rachel to the top of the Eiffel Tower. It’s one of the most romantic things any couple could do together, and I want that with Rachel.
My heart beats in my chest and I feel my face heat at the thought of her in that tight, black pencil skirt. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never felt this way about any girl in my life. Ever. But, I feel like I am really falling for her.
I don’t want my family ruining this for me.
“Ah, Lucas Brent,” I inhale deeply at the familiar sound of Samuel’s voice. “I’m so glad you came.”
Showtime, I tell myself, quickly rising and pasting on my most charming smile. I take his offered hand, giving it a firm shake while looking him in the eye. “Likewise.”
Samuel Allen hasn’t changed much since my prep school days, when I often found him drinking martinis with my parents while watching his daughters playing tennis. Thinking of them now, I wonder how they are doing. I know the twins, Danielle and Lucy Allen, were accepted into a fancy school abroad, but I didn’t know which. Like Tom, they have appeared to be gone without a trace. I’m tempted to ask Samuel, yet I don’t know if it’s a sore subject.
The twins had looked more like Samuel, than their mother with thick, curly red hair and freckles. However, rather than blue eyes, Samuel’s are green and his red hair is graying at the sides as well as in his beard. His family has a Scottish background. I have no clue where they obtained their money or why Samuel decided to set up his law firm in Paris rather than New York, where he grew up. In fact, I don’t know much about the man other than he’s my father’s friend; meaning I don’t trust him whatsoever.
“Come,” says Samuel while gesturing towards a hall. “Let’s meet in my office. I should have a pretty good brandy we can share. Do you like brandy? Your father likes brandy.”
“I like it well enough,” I say while following him through the hall.
Samuel chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. “I suppose kids your age like any sort of alcohol. One of these days, you’ll only be able to drink the good stuff.”
We turn a corner and Samuel grabs a door, throwing it open. “Please,” he says, motioning for me to enter before him.
I take the two steps into his office, halting in the middle and gazing out at the beautiful view of Paris. A large oak desk sits in front of the window with a thick blue cushioned chair. There are several neatly stacked papers on his desk and to the right is a golden plated cabinet, stocked with a variety of high quality liquor.
Samuel strides past me, grabbing a key from his desk and unlocking the cabinet. “Please, sit.” He unlocks the door and takes out a bottle nearly filled to the brim. “Don’t wait on my account.”
I’m already getting an ill feeling as I sit in the chair behind me. The cushion is low, much lower than his and once again I feel like a child in my father’s study, getting scolded for dirtying my pants after a day playing in the garden. My hands grip the armrests, keeping myself there and ignoring the need to run out of the room.
I try to focus on something other than the impending doom twisting my stomach. My gaze lands on a photo of his twins in their cap and gown. The picture must have been taken after they graduated high school. Another photo sits next to it, displaying his new wife, who is nearly the same age as his daughters. Samuel divorced several years ago after his wife finally got sick of him messing round with other, much younger women when she wasn’t looking.
Apparently, she didn’t get much in the settlement.
At least, that’s what Father tells me.
“Here you are,” says Samuel while handing me a glass. He clinks his own against mine before taking a seat in his chair, looking more like an evil king sitting on his throne rather than a wealthy lawyer. He sips at his brandy, his eyes narrowing on me for a moment, trying to size me up and probably see what I’m worth. At least, that’s my assumption.
“So, Lucas,” he starts, setting his glass on the desk. “What can I do for you?”
