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“Enough, I get it,” says Samuel quickly, holding up his hands in defense. “Art is great.” He chuckles while stroking his beard. “I like your enthusiasm. Maybe I could use you for some marketing, since you’re so passionate about it. I assume you are a photographer?”
I nod. I don’t quite understand what is happening here as I watch Samuel taking out his wallet. He pulls out a small card and hands it to me. I look down at the simply black script, reading: Samuel Allen. Law Office Allen. Phone Number 71 5046 1972.
“You should give me a call. I’ve been wanting to do some more advertising for my firm.”
“Oh,” is the only thing I can say while I stare down at his card. “I guess I could…”
“Everything is online these days. And like you said, everyone is looking at that Nstagram stuff. It would be good to have an online presence.”
I nod again, unable to take my eyes off his card. Is this really happening? Am I getting another job offer? I purse my lips as I think of photographing people in their office rather than running around like a chicken with its head cut off at the Louvre. If I dump my internship and work with Samuel, then I wouldn’t have to see Lauren’s glare day after day. Or deal with her sabotaging me.
But, I wouldn’t be working in the Louvre. And I’m sure dropping an internship program looks pretty bad. I should just stick it out with Dr. Arnaud.
However, working with a fancy law firm in Paris would look good on my resume.
“Thank you,” I say while shoving the card into my very tiny skirt pocket. “I’ll consider it.”
“Please do.” Samuel turns around, his gaze on Lucas as he says, “I expect you at the office no later than eight.” He looks Lucas up and down for a moment. “And wear a suit. I can’t have my clients thinking I hire just anyone off the street.”
Lucas’s head bobs up and down. “Yes, sir,” he says faintly.
“Well, then, I wish you all a good evening. Rachel, it was a pleasure,” Samuel adds while taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.
“Likewise,” I say with a smile, not knowing if I’m telling the truth or just being polite. I watch him show himself out, the door clicking close behind him.
The door closing must have snapped Lucas out of his hypnotism with the floor, because he strides towards me, taking my arm and pulling me towards him. I expect a kiss, my body already leaning into him, ready to continue what we had been up to before. But instead, Lucas says harshly, “Don’t call him.”
My brows furrow and I blink, wondering if I heard him correctly. “What?”
Lucas sighs, sounding frustrated while he rakes a hand through his hair. “Don’t call him. Throw his card away. He’s a manipulative asshole.”
I yank my arm away from Lucas. “Then why are you working for him?”
Lucas groans, pinching the bridge of his nose while turning around. “Because I have to,” he says with his back facing me.
I reach for him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder, but he pulls away from me. “Not now, Rachel. I’m not in the mood.”
My hand lowers and I bite my bottom lip as I feel my eyes prickling with unshed tears. I try to ignore Hunter and Seth glancing at each other. Hunter pushes away from the counter, his eyes filled with worry, but I quickly shake my head, making him stop mid-step.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask tentatively, flinching when Lucas releases an exasperated sigh.
“No,” he says harshly while facing me, his gaze now glued to the floor. I want to ask him what’s so special about the God damn tiles, but I bite my tongue, not really in the mood to start a fight. “Just tell me you won’t work for him. He’ll work you to the bone. And he’s a jerk.” Lucas closes his eyes and grabs my hand, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing me. I have no clue why he is acting this way, andit’s alarming to say the least.
What’s going on?
Why did Samuel suddenly show up at our door?
Why is Lucas acting so strange?
“Ok. I trust you,” I say, grimacing as the words escape my lips. I do trust Lucas, but I don’t like throwing away opportunities. Not to mention, this is my choice to make. Maybe working for Samuel wouldn’t be so bad, compared to Dr. Arnaud. Maybe Samuel isn’t as bad as Lucas thinks. I don’t think taking a few pictures here and there is that big of adeal.
Lucas visibly relaxes. His shoulders slump forward and I watch him straighten. He seems a bit better, yet the color in his face hasn’t returned. I watch him stalk towards the foyer, following after him like some lovesick fool.
“Where are you going?” I ask while he puts on his shoes.
“Out,” he says simply. “I need a suit… and a walk.”
“I can go with you,” I say, forcing a smile, but Lucas is already shaking his head.
