Chapter 4
Chapter Four
ALISON
I hear Lexi laughing on the phone and I know automatically it’s a man she’s talking to. A man she clearly likes because she never sounds like that when talking to me, or anyone else for that matter.
“I think it’s a great idea. No, I’m not sure, I haven’t collected the mail yet,” she says, all giggly. “Oh, you’re too funny… I completely agree, it sounds like fun.”
What the heck? Since when has Lexie got a not-so-secret admirer?
I strain to listen, trying to decipher who she could be talking to, and why she didn’t tell me about him.
The truth is, I've been like a cat on hot bricks since my conversation with testy Tristan. I want to put his goddamn pretty face on a dartboard and hit the bullseye. Several times.
I have to phone my client back today — something he damn well knows — and make an excuse as to why I haven’t closed this deal yet.
Telling them Tristan Lucas is an asshole with intestinal woe, and a bad tan to match, won’t exactly cut it.
Not that I believe that fake tan story. The asshole is just playing with me and for some reason I think he enjoys it.
But I’m a professional, and I know I can win him over in the end.
Tristan Lucas isn’t as slick as he thinks he is, and I’m going to prove it.
Lexi laughs again and I roll my eyes. Then my eyes almost bug out of their sockets when I hear her next words; “You are the sweetest, Joshua!”
Joshua? As in… No. My trusty, loyal, patriarch, do-gooder assistant would not be cohorting with any fucking Lucas Property Brother knowing full well that they are the enemy.
Okay, that may be going a little overboard, but like father like sons, right?
I’ve no doubt the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree where those muppets are concerned.
And after dickhead dad’s stunt this morning, I can’t believe that Lexi would giggle like a schoolgirl with Tristan’s son.
“I’ll be sure to let her know. Okay, will do, you also have an amazing day… buh-bye!”
Sounds like consorting with the enemy to me.
I pick up my empty mug, not that I need an excuse to walk through my own office and question my staff, but I have to keep my hands busy.
“Please do not tell me that was Joshua Lucas on the phone?” I give her a pointed look that she swiftly ignores.
I say Joshua Lucas like I’m talking about the spawn of Satan.
Not that he’s a bad kid or anything; in fact, he’s always very polite and courteous, something he clearly doesn't get from his father. But since I’m pissed at dear old dad, my grievances unfortunately extend to him too, even if it is by default.
“It was.” Why is she smiling? “Ugh! Joshie is just the cutest.”
“ Joshie ?” I hold up a hand. “Lexi, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times?—”
“Keep your panties on,” she scolds. “It was strictly business… sort of.”
“Sort of? Do I need to pull out the contractual agreement and highlight the part about conflicts of interest?” I don’t like how screechy my voice is becoming, but this family annoys me to no end.
They all act like they’re perfect, like they have it so together.
“We do not conspire with the enemy! He’s a Lucas!
Need I remind you that his father is a complete and utter douche canoe? ”
She laughs. “I’m not conspiring with anyone.
In fact, Mason is the one I spoke to about Tristan being difficult, I was seeing if he could twist his arm.
Then Joshie stepped in and called me as a follow up.
If I was planning on boning him, I wouldn’t be so blatant about it.
I’d totally sneak around behind your back and deny any wrongdoing, but rest assured.
..” She straightens her spine and rolls her shoulders back.
“I’d never spill any of our trade secrets, and that wasn’t why he was calling. ”
I wave my mug at her. “So spill! What did he want?”
“Tristan has agreed to have dinner with you to discuss the contract.”
I stare at her for a few moments, kind of like when you’ve been staring at the sun for too long and your eyes begin to burn. The only problem is, the dots scorching my eyeballs didn’t seem to be fading. “What?”
“Dinner.” She motions up to her mouth with her hands, as if she’s eating, then she pats her belly. “Yum yums, tonight, eight pm. Wear something that shows your amazing legs off and we might get this deal done.”
I blink a couple of times before my brain catches up. “I’m not having dinner with that rat bastard!”
“Oh, yes you are. I hate to break it to you, but this is still a big commission, one that we need. We can’t let Tristan throw his weight around, which is what he’s doing because he’s a smart ass.
”She smirks. Okay, there have been a few bills lately, and maybe that is part of the reason I was so testy about getting this signed off.
I’ve got money in the bank, we’re not going to go broke, but the high-end clients I deal with are few and far between.
This market has never been more competitive, and I’ll bet Tristan is trying to steal my clients so he can take all the commission for himself.
Not that he’s ever done that before, but I wouldn’t put it past him.
I sell houses in the tens of millions of dollars; I can close a deal.
But then I’m always reminded of my ex-husband telling me over and over that he’ll make sure I leave with nothing.
Even though it’s not true, the idea that I could be poor terrifies me.
He’s made life difficult, and that’s tricky when you have a child together and you’re trying to co-parent.
“Fine, if I’m going, then you’re going, too.”
“I’d love to help a girl out,” she says, “but I have my nephew's recital tonight, and he’s really excited that I’m going to be there. So sorry, no can do.” She reaches over and squeezes my forearm, adding, “you’ve got this.”
Of course I can’t ruin a kid's dream or make Lexi do anything at such short notice, so it looks like it’ll be just me and the big bad wolf. Just perfect. Could this day get any worse?
“This is ridiculous. He could just sign already, or meet in either of our offices, the man is completely unhinged.”
“And hot for you.”
“Lex, for the last time, he is not hot for me! He’s a complete ladies’ man and sleeps around.
Side note: I find that kind of thing really gross, especially an older man who should know better.
Some of the broads he gets photographed with look young enough to be his daughter…
if he had one.” I pull a face of utter disgust, and when Lexi opens her mouth to remind me of the photoshoot model who did, indeed, ask me out, I make a ‘zip it’ motion up over my mouth.
“Don’t stick up for him. If you’d have heard his smirky tone this morning and the things that flew out of his mouth, you’d have plenty to say to him. ”
“Save those fighting words for dinner, eight pm, at Ruby’s.”
I sigh. “My favorite restaurant? Ugh, do I have to?”
“Have dinner with him? Yes, you have to. And you’ll be civil, polite, and lovely because you’re a professional who can easily wipe the floor with him. Remember those breathing techniques we ran through? And finding your happy place?”
Little does she know, my happy place right now is swinging a baseball bat at Tristan Lucas’s head. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
I try to remember those coping techniques — smelling salts may also come in handy — but I’ve had way too much coffee today and my nerves are shot.
Still, I straighten out my jacket and stand taller.
“You’re right. I am a professional, and I’ll try my best to play nice, even though I can’t guarantee I won’t throttle the man by the time I’m done with the appetizers. ”
Okay, so I may not be able to throttle him in any crowded place, much less my favorite restaurant, but I can think any old thing I want while meeting with the enemy.
Seeing him is the last thing I want to be doing, but at the same point, I’ll do anything to get this deal done for my clients, and if Tristan wants to play hard ball right up to the end, I’ll play.
She narrows her eyes. “Pinkie promise.” She holds out said pinkie and I huff.
“This is so childish.”
“Because you know you can’t go back on a pinkie promise.”
“I’m only promising to meet with him in a very public place so I don’t choke him to death with his stupid suspenders.”
“Does he wear suspenders?”
“I was going for humor.”
“Oh.” She laughs. “I get it now… So, tonight, remember to keep your eye on the ball. Envision the main prize; commission that you worked hard for. A happy client. An even happier assistant. All you have to do is play nice, oh, and don’t bring up the reunion, that way you can hopefully avoid him.”
“I didn’t say yes to the reunion,” I remind her.
“Well, think about it. You’re fucking fabulous. I mean, can we just take a moment of appreciation for curves and pencil skirts. Aaaand , what a great way to rub Gareth’s face in it when he sees how hot you are, and what the stupid moron is missing out on.”
“I doubt he cares.”
She taps her nose. “He didn’t want a divorce, remember?”
“I remember only too well his lying, cheating ass with that young broad, then trying to come groveling back to me.” I shudder in utter disgust.
“Well, what better way to show him you’ve moved on. He’ll see red when he sees you talking to Tristan. Weren’t they arch enemies back in the day?”
“I won’t be talking to Tristan, or to Gareth because I’m not going.”
She sighs. “Can’t you just play nice for one weekend?”
“We already had this conversation. I don’t need a man to hoist me up, or to lean on. I was married to a jerk, and while I appreciate your flattery, I’m going to go and make myself a triple shot of coffee because now I’m being forced to dine with the man I hate.”
“Love you, too!” Lexi calls after me.
The things I have to do for a buck.