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"Actually, yeah," she admits, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "I am."
"Great. There's a mall across the street. Let's grab some lunch at the food court and talk about the job." I gesture for her to follow, and she does.
As we make our way down the elevator, the hum of the machinery filling the small space, and she studies me with a curious expression. "You know, I'm surprised you're a food court kind of guy."
"What do you mean?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She gestures vaguely, taking me in – my designer suit, the sleek building we're descending through, the aura of power that seems to cling to me like a second skin. "You just seem more... upscale restaurant than cafeteria, if you catch my drift."
The elevator door slides open, and I shrug as we step out into the mirrored hallway. "Food courts are efficient. Normally, I'd send my assistant across to the mall to get me something, then bring it back so I can work through lunch."
"Ah," she says, her voice a mix of understanding and disappointment. "Well, I'd be happy to do that for you."
The offer surprises me. Lulu, the headstrong daughter of the Cuban Mob's leader, willing to fetch my lunch? That's not something I expected. "We'll see," I tell her, trying to sound casual. "For now, keeping you within eyeshot is preferable."
Her mood sours just a bit, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she walks beside me – this woman who's been thrust into my life, equal parts enigma and adversary – as we head out into the daylight and toward the mall.
We enter the bustling food court, the scent of various international cuisines mingling in the air. Navigating through the crowd, I glance at Lulu, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Do you have a preference for anything?" I ask.
She shakes her head, uncertainty flickering across her face as she looks around. Together, we explore the options, and she eventually settles on a pop-up sushi restaurant in the center of the court. We each grab a bento box, the colorful assortment of sushi rolls and sashimi arranged neatly inside, and sit down to eat.
The silence that envelops us is surprisingly comfortable. Lulu seems content, her gaze wandering around the food court as she chews thoughtfully. Watching her quiet happiness tugs at something deep within me, an unfamiliar sensation that I can't quite place. When we finish our meal, I lead her to a nearby café where we order two iced coffees before beginning a leisurely stroll around the mall.
"Any questions about the job?" I ask, wanting to gauge her thoughts so far.
Her lips curl into a mischievous smirk. "Yes. I'd like to know all your passwords so I can get into your secret files."
"Nice try," I say, chuckling at her audacity.
"Hey, don't worry." She grins, a twinkle in her eye. "I'll figure them out eventually."
"Really? If you can hack my systems, then you deserve to be teaching courses in cyber security, let alone attending college," I retort, only half-joking. For some reason, her bold claims make me uneasy, and I resolve to add extra security layers when we return to the office.
As we walk, the hum of conversation and laughter from fellow shoppers fills the air, blending with the soft strains of music piped through the mall's speakers. The atmosphere is light, a stark contrast to the tension that has defined our interactions until now.
As we continue strolling through the mall, Lulu's curiosity seems to grow. "So, how did you start your businesses? What are they exactly?" she inquires, her hazel eyes reflecting genuine interest.
"Ah, well," I begin, pausing to collect my thoughts as we pass by a lively carousel filled with laughing children. "I started small, just buying a piece of property and turning it into a rental when I was in college. I kept reinvesting the money, and from there, I grew a real estate company that now has an extensive portfolio."
"Wow, that's really impressive," she says, clearly taken aback by the scope of my accomplishments.
"Thank you, but that's just one component." I shrug modestly, trying not to let her praise go to my head. "I've since expanded into shipping, restaurant chains, and more recently, I took my software company public last year."
"Damn, you're like a business superhero," she teases, lightly nudging me with her elbow. "But what about your family? What are you doing for them?"
The question catches me off guard, and I feel a sudden tightness in my chest. This isn't the time or place to discuss such matters. "That's not something we should get into right now," I say curtly, averting my eyes.
"Okay," she accepts, sensing my discomfort.
As we make our way back to the office, I inform her of my plans for the rest of the day. "I'll be in meetings, so you won't be able to attend."
"Wait, why not?" she protests.
"Because they're boring business meetings," I explain, trying to discourage her. "Why on Earth would you want to sit through those?"
"Because my father never included me in the business side of things," she replies, her tone softening. "I want to be included."
I hesitate for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, I relent. "Fine, but I warned you it's going to be really boring."
