Chapter 41
Lucas
When Amelia emerges from the bedroom, I’m standing by our private pool on the deck, sipping a vodka on the rocks.
She’s in a shimmering gold dress that hugs her figure over the glittering heels beneath, and her hair is cascading down her back like a fairy princess.
I’m speechless as she walks toward me. “You look exquisite,” I say sincerely, and she manages a smile.
As we leave the room, I find myself on edge again, unable to think of the right words to say to her. She’s distant tonight, but since her confession this morning, something between us has deepened for me.
I’m not sure what it is until we’re walking down the boardwalk together, the setting sun a vista of pinks and oranges behind her, and I have an overwhelming urge to hold her hand.
This is the most romantic setting anyone could wish for, and yet, we feel miles apart.
And that’s because that’s how it should be. We’re not together. We aren’t anything.
The sour voice in my head sounds a lot like my little brother Charlie, and I glance at Amelia. After a minute, I lose the battle with myself and take her hand. Immediately, her fingers link loosely with mine, and my heart swells in my chest.
What the hell am I doing?
We arrive at the restaurant a few minutes later, with many other couples already walking in ahead of us. It’s a little Bedouin tent-style setup, and there are no chairs; everyone is kneeling beside low tables on luxurious white cushions.
The smell of roast lamb and kebabs wafts through the air, and I breathe it in as Amelia looks around.
“There’s Barnes,” she whispers suddenly, and I look across the room just as Barnes looks up at us.
For a split second, his eyes widen in surprise, and then a look of such fury passes over his face I wonder if he’s going to walk across the restaurant and knock me out.
To my surprise, Amelia lets go of my hand and walks between the tables toward him. I stand there, staring after her like a lost puppy, wondering when the hell I lost control of this deal.
I can’t hear what passes between them, but my heart is in my mouth as I see Barnes talking to Amelia in short, sharp sentences. I can tell by the white knuckled grip he has on his fork that he’s fighting to keep a hold of his temper.
His wife, Marilyn, is glancing between Amelia and Barnes in consternation. I wait, feeling like an idiot that my assistant has gone over to smooth the waters with my business associate instead of me.
Then Amelia turns to me, kneeling at their table, and beckons me over.
Astounded, I walk quickly over and sink down beside her, attempting to look as if this was all in my plan.
“You’re a piece of shit, Crawford,” Barnes hisses at me, but the fury in his eyes has lessened a little. Marilyn does not look pleased, and I put a hand on my heart, bowing to her across the table.
“I realize you’re on vacation,” I say sincerely. “But I felt it was necessary to make the trip.” My eyes move to Barnes. “I want you to know how serious I am about this deal.”
Barnes scoffs. “About my company making you a few million dollars, you mean.”
“Don’t you mean making us a few million?” I ask. “You’re part of its future. Or are you reneging on our agreement?”
Barnes glances at Marilyn, who narrows her eyes at him.
“We’re having dinner, Mr. Crawford,” she says sharply.
“The only reason you are sitting with us is because this rather delightful young woman told us that you would pay for everything, and that there would be no shop talk until we’d finished eating. ”
I turn to Amelia, and she just raises her eyebrows at me as if she has me wrapped around her little finger. Perhaps she does.
“That’s a deal,” I say as the waiter sets two more places at the table. “I’m Lucas, by the way,” I say to Marilyn. “I’m not sure we’ve formally met.”
“Marilyn,” she replies. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Crawford. It seems to me,” she says, leaning toward Amelia, “that these men would do a lot better if they listened to us more often.”
Amelia raises her glass, and the two women chink them together.
“I quite agree,” Amelia says, and I can’t help smiling as she moves a little closer to me, our thighs brushing beneath the table as we order our appetizers.
It turns out to be a wonderful meal, for many reasons.
Not only is Barnes a huge fan of the movie Die Hard, allowing us to speak about something other than our companies for the first time, but Marilyn is also an artist.
She and Amelia immediately hit it off, discussing painters and exhibitions I had never heard of. Amelia is in awe of all the places in Europe that Marilyn has visited. I wish I could buy her a ticket to every one, with the way her eyes light up as they talk about Rembrandt and Picasso.
By the end of the night, the two women are getting along famously, and Barnes and I have barely had to fashion any awkward small talk.
We leave the restaurant as a happy party, chatting merrily together, and it’s only on the walk back to our room that Barnes sobers and I finally get to ask him the million-dollar question.
“I’m sorry for turning up like this,” I say finally, and he glances at me, placing his hands in his pockets as he whistles.
“I never thought I’d hear you apologizing to me, Crawford.”
“Well, I think it’s overdue.”
“You really came all this way just to talk to me?”
“I did. I heard a rumor you’ve received another offer.”
My palms are sweating as I wait for his response. I’m sure Barnes is deliberately stringing it out as the seconds tick by, but I force myself not to ask anything else. After a long silence, he clears his throat.
“I’ve received several.”
I chew my cheek. “I should have made you sign the paperwork before you left,” I admit ruefully.
Barnes chuckles. “Yes, that surprised me. I chalked it up to you giving me space to think, and then you walked through the door of that tent. I can tell you in no uncertain terms that that act alone could have cost you my company.”
I swallow, listening to Amelia’s heels ahead of me as she talks animatedly with Marilyn. I can’t look at Barnes. Coming here was always a risk; I just didn’t realize how big it was.
“I don’t like being hounded, Lucas. And I don’t appreciate my private time with my wife being interrupted because of your greed.”
I want to argue the point, but it would be futile. His company is going to make me a lot of money. In the end, everything comes down to that, and it would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise.
“But once again, your assistant may have saved your bacon,” Barnes says quietly.
“Is that so?”
“She told me I had every right to want to punch you in the face for turning up like this, but that the only reason you were here was to secure the best deal you could. For both of us. And that if you didn’t believe you could make my company greater—that’s an important word—not ‘great’, greater, then you wouldn’t be here. ”
I nod, keeping my mouth shut, knowing he isn’t done.
“I believe you’re passionate about what my people can do for you. I think you’ll build my company from strength to strength.”
We reach his hotel room, the ladies a little separate now, waiting in the gentle breeze, watching us curiously.
“I received Bishop’s offer, just like all the others,” he says. “It had four typos on the first page.”
I hide a smile, looking out at the ocean.
“I never even considered it. In fact, I never considered any of them. I was quite content to enjoy my peace and accept your terms when I got back. But as you’re so eager to have certainty, let me make this as plain as I can.
I’m sticking around, and I’m gonna make your life hell, but only to make us both greater.
Until then, you don’t need to worry that I’m reneging on anything.
I just want to watch the sunset with my wife and enjoy my vacation. ”
I nod, holding out my hand, and he shakes it with a little roll of his eyes that makes me laugh.
“See you on the flip side, Lucas. And stop dragging that poor girl to business meetings. She should be on a sun lounger with a cocktail being spoiled rotten.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, as Marilyn and Amelia bid each other farewell and we walk back towards our room.
“So?” she says as we walk up to the door. “Did he accept?”
“He did. Mostly because of you again. You do have a way with words.”
She smiles, looking pleased and relaxed, a flush to her cheeks from the wine, her eyes bright and happy.
“That’s good,” she says with a smile, and as I open the door and she walks in ahead of me, a feeling rises in my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time. As I watch her silhouette sway gently before me toward the pool outside, it’s as if I’ve gone back in time.
I’ve felt this before, an emotion I never thought I would experience with Amelia, and it scares me more than anything else ever could.
It’s how I felt the first time I fell for Megan, but far more potent, more intoxicating, more unbearable, because I know Amelia can never be truly mine.