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Instead, I was copying papers, taking notes, and answering phones.
“Stop sighing. You sound like some lovesick girl.”
I glare at Samuel sitting next to me, too busy with his cellphone to notice me.
I could have been waiting outside the Louvre for Rachel with a bouquet of flowers and an apology. I didn’t even get a chance to see her last night when I got home. Her light was off. I had wanted to have breakfast with her in the morning, but unfortunately she had just run out of the apartment right when I finished with my shower.
It would’ve been nice to have some shower sex; continue with our fun from last night.
I tilt my head back, closing my eyes briefly while imagining her leg wrapped around my hip; my cock grinding against her front while she gasps against my ear.
“We’re here,” Samuel says in a sing-song tune and my eyes snap open, finding him already standing outside the taxi, waiting for me while staring at his watch. “Don’t make me light a fire under your ass. You know how much your father likes punctuality.”
I don’t say anything while sliding my body out of the taxi. Checking the time, I see we’re only five minutes late. Although, five minutes late in my father’s world is pretty much like being an hour late. He’s the most impatient asshole I’ve ever had to deal with in my entire life.
I trudge up the stairs while Samuel bounds up the steps. He holds his phone up to his ear and I already suspect it’s my father when I hear, “Yes, yes. We’re here. Traffic was terrible.”
I fight the need to roll my eyes. If I start now, I will never stop. A man dressed in a tux opens the doors for us, and as soon as we enter, we are greeted by staff waiting at the reception, giving a slight bow of their heads while they carry pristine, white napkins in their hands. I frown at the green carpet beneath my feet decorated in gold and black swirls. The walls are white while a chandelier hangs from above decorated in gold and what appears to be white pearls.
“Good day, sir,” says the man in the front with a slight tilt of his head. “Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m meeting with the Brent family.”
“Ah yes, of course. Right this way.” The man gestures towards the main entrance and I follow Samuel. I frown at the emerald sofas and the row of chandeliers lighting the room. Large windows display green gardens while a woman in the back of the room plays a violin. My stomach churns when I see my mother and father sitting next to a window. My father is busy with his phone. He’s tall and reedlike. The only way he stays in shape is by golfing, playing tennis, and screwing women behind my mother’s back.
Not like she really cares, I think while turning my gaze to my mother, who sips on her glass of champagne. She still looks quite young, due toBotoxand whatever other plastic surgery she’s done to her body and her face in order to stay beautiful. Her blonde hair is neatly done, hanging over her shoulders while her white suit clings to her well-endowed figure.
I look nothing like her; rather I look more like a younger, less scary version of my father. If it wasn’t for the birth certificate as proof, I would’ve thought I was born from a completely different woman. But, either my parent’s paid someone off, or Mom actually did give birth to me. I guess it doesn’t really matter. She turns and her blue gaze lands on me, making me wish I could disappear.
I force a smile and straighten my back, wanting to get this done and over with as quick as possible. My smile falters when I see Alex sitting with my parents, slumped over in his chair and dressed in all white Puma gear. He looks bored, but perks up when he sees me approach.
“Lucas,” he says with a forced smile. “Long time no see.” He holds out his hand and I take it, giving him a firm shake.
I guess we are pretending he didn’t force his way into my apartment the other day. I’m fine with that. “What are you doing in Paris?” I ask, hoping I sound excited.
“Alex is here for a marathon, Lukey,” says Mom. “Isn’t that great?” She takes another sip of her champagne, downing it quickly. A server approaches, refilling her glass before she has time to reach for the bottle.
“Wonderful,” I say with too much enthusiasm.
“It better be done tomorrow,” I hear father say to the poor person on the other line. He scowls at his plate as if the person is right in front of him. “It was supposed to be done yesterday.” Father’s scowl darkens. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Either get it done, or you’re fired.” Father hangs up the phone and shakes his head at Samuel. “I swear, kids these days are getting dumber and lazier.”
Samuel chuckles. “Not all of them,” he says while nodding towards me and taking a seat next to my father.
I hold back a sigh, sitting next to Mom and grabbing a glass. I need alcohol if I’m going to get through this meeting. And lots of it. The server steps forward, grabbing my glass and pouring me a hefty amount. I try not to down it in one go. Over the brim of my glass, I see Alex raise an eyebrow at me.
“I hope you don’t mind us showing up like this,” says Mom sweetly while taking my hand and giving me a gentle squeeze. I don’t know who she’s talking to.
“It’s no problem at all,” Samuel answers. “It’s been too long. I was actually surprised you didn’t make plans earlier since Lucas is interning with my firm and all.” Samuel smacks my back and I bite back a grunt.
Father’s gaze slides to me and a shiver ripples through me, making my skin want to crawl away under that dark gaze. I take another sip of champagne, waiting for the interrogation to begin. His head tilts to the side while he scrutinizes me. I wonder what he will decide is wrong this time. My suit? My haircut?
“I hope Samuel isn’t giving you a hard time, son,” he says instead, making me blink in surprise. “I would have liked if you worked with me in New York instead, but it’s great you have Samuel to teach you the ropes.”
I force a smile and nod. “I thought it would be best to learn under someone different. Someone who won’t give me preferential treatment.”
Father nods and I know I’ve said the correct words.Yeah, just say what he wants and then he will leave me alone.
“Well, we are just so proud of you,” Mom says while tapping my hand. “And of you, Alex. Can you believe these boys are growing up so fast?”
