Twenty
TWENTY
LEORA
F or today's brunch, with the very not-charming and untrustworthy Michel, I dress in an adorable white Zimmerman embroidered sundress with puff sleeves and I pair it with light beige Saint Laurent sandals.
I look at myself in the mirror, taking a moment to admire my outfit. It looks sophisticated and elegant; my hair is up in a ponytail and my makeup is light. Thanks to my tan, a little blush and mascara goes a long way.
Will he like it? The thought crosses my mind but I try to push it aside. I take a deep breath, trying to remind myself that what matters is what I think and today, I think I look great.
Before leaving, I grab my favorite accessory—my bag. The closet is not short on bags either, and I choose a Saint Laurent Mini Cassandra bag that matches my shoes perfectly. I slip on a pair of sunglasses but before I make it out, I hear a soft knock on my door. Opening the door, I’m met by an effortlessly handsome man in his white linen shirt and beige chinos. Lucas completes the look with matching boat shoes and Ray-Bans tucked into the collar of his shirt, exuding a sense of refined style.
His gaze scans me slowly, and there’s an approving look in his eyes.
However, the tone in his voice is curt. "Let’s get this brunch over with."
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed," I mumble under my breath.
"Excuse me?" Lucas arches an eyebrow, catching my muttered remark.
I respond with a fake smile, feigning innocence. "Oh, nothing, husband."
Lucas quirks a corner of his mouth at my sarcastic tone but chooses not to engage. With a casual gesture, he leads the way toward the elevator.
While we wait for the elevator to arrive, the mounting silence becomes too much this time and I can't help but blurt something out, "So, is the rest of the year going to be this awkward?" Lucas looks at me, his expression shifting to one of confusion.
"I'm sorry?"
Realizing he didn't catch on, I press further, "I said, are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment and only talk to me when you have to?"
His response is swift, his tone sharp, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment."
"Yes, you are."
Lucas watches me, a hint of irritation crossing his features. "If you'd pay more attention, you'd realize that not everything is about you." The words hang in the air, a weight settling on my chest. I don't respond, but I look at him, silently questioning if he's right. Am I selfish?
The elevator doors open with a ding , saving us . We step inside, as always I take a deep breath to try to calm myself down, but it's pointless because of the fact that I might die from this elevator. I can’t seem to continue the conversation which builds up my frustration even further. Stupid elevator fear.
I'm just grateful I'm not alone in the elevator. If it gets stuck, at least there's two of us—we could put our heads together to come up with a plan. Oh, who am I kidding, I'd be on the floor crying.
As we exit the elevator to the garage, a sleek black car pulls up in front of us, and the driver steps out to open the door for us.
"You’re not driving?"
"No, I need a drink or two to get through this brunch."
We climb inside and settle into the leather seats. I try to sit as far away from him as possible, needing space, but he follows, choosing the seat in the middle and caging me between the door and himself.
"I really don’t like you today," I whisper so the driver won’t hear.
"Yeah?" he says, his arm wrapping around my waist as he tugs me closer to him, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I don’t like you much today either." I feel a shiver run down my spine as his breath tickles my ear. I push him away, but he only chuckles in response.
The car ride is quiet, and I feel the tension between us growing with every passing minute. This time however, there’s another type of tension mingling in the air as well.
I stare out the window, trying to distract myself from the uncomfortable situation. I’ve caught him glancing at me a few times, although I'm sure he has noticed my own glances as well. Until I impulsively blurt out, "We need a safeword."
What the hell am I saying?
Lucas turns to me with a raised eyebrow, looking intrigued by my sudden suggestion and amusement glimmers in his eyes before he adopts his usual stern gaze again.
"Continue."
"Let’s say we’re talking to someone and suddenly we don’t know what to say, we use the safeword for the other to jump in and save the situation."
"Wouldn’t it be obvious to know where to jump in?"
He has a point. If we’re next to each other, then we’ll probably know if the other is struggling.
I pause for a moment, thinking. "Okay, what about when you are talking to someone else and I need you? What then?"
"Okay, we can have a safeword if you need it. What do you want it to be?" he asks curiously.
Well, I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. I ponder for a moment, trying to come up with a suitable word. I want it to be something natural and discreet, like a fruit or something common.
After a brief pause, I smile as an idea comes to mind.
"How about 'pineapple?’" I casually suggest.
Lucas looks at me with furrowed eyebrows, an expression that I interpret as a silent "no."
"Okay, then what about 'ocean?’" I press on.
"Leora, we live on the French Riviera; the word ocean will pop up quite often." He states in a tone that makes me feel utterly ridiculous, but to my dismay, he has a point.
"Then you come up with one if you’re so smart," I say a little defensively, crossing my arms over my chest.
"How about 'coconut’?"
I scrunch my nose, considering his suggestion.
"You like 'coconut' but dislike 'pineapple’?"
He stays silent for a few beats, lost in thought, and I watch him. When he’s focused, he scrunches his forehead and a little wrinkle appears between his eyebrows. Before I can stop myself, my lips turn up. He’s adorable.
A knowing smirk spreads across his lips. He watches me, clearly happy with what he came up with.
"How about 'amaretto' then?" he suggests.
"Amaretto it is," I agree, rolling my eyes.