Chapter 5
Chapter Five
TRISTAN
The more I think about what Mason and Joshua were saying, the more I get used to the idea.
I suppose sitting down to have one meal with Alison at Ruby’s — one of my favorite restaurants —wouldn’t kill me.
In fact, it might just give me the spoke I need to stop dragging out the inevitable and sign off on the deal so we can all get paid.
There’s also a nagging part of me that wants to gage if she’s going to the stupid reunion.
Joshua and Mason made extremely valid points about venturing down memory lane by going to Palm Springs. If it means I can drum up more business and brag a little about my accomplishments, then so be it.
Not that I care about the latter, but it sure would be sweet to show all those idiots from high school — who said I’d never amount to much —what I’ve been doing these last twenty-five years.
While other kids were out with their friends having fun over the summer, I started learning the ropes in contracting and doing odd jobs for cash.
I’ve always loved the property market, and helping my handyman father out on weekends really opened up my eyes to seeing different properties and meeting all kinds of people.
It led to a deep fascination and love for buying and selling real estate. I love to make a deal.
I still remember closing my first property in LA when I was nineteen years old.
My mouth pulls up at the corners at the thought of it.
I knew so very little back then, but spent years learning from the ground up and following realtors who had been in the industry for years, breaking down their success and working out strategies for growth.
I learned every damned thing I could about the business, and it became a bit of an obsession. One I still feel deeply.
I’ve always loved buildings, especially places with some kind of historical value, which are few and far between around LA.
But whenever I come across an older building or a renovation that’s been done really well, where people have really thought about it and brought the old back to life with some of the new, I can’t help but really appreciate the transformation.
People may not know it by looking at me, but I value the small things, even down to the different building materials used in any one given project.
I came from humble surroundings; my mom stayed home to look after me and my younger brother, Jon, who still runs Lucas’s Home Handyman services in Thousand Palms, where we grew up.
My dad retired a few years back and was more than happy to have one of his sons to take over the family business.
They’re proud of both Jon and I, and at times I feel guilty that I didn’t stay in there and want to fix up people's houses, but it was never my passion or my dream.
I feel less guilty knowing that Jon’s happy doing what he’s doing, and Lucas’s Home Handyman gets to live on.
I’ve done well for myself in real estate.
I hit the market at just the right time when I started out, and things have only grown since then.
Last year, I topped a billion dollars in revenue.
My parents are looked after in their twilight years, Jon too.
He’d never have to work again if he didn’t want to.
I was able to give all my sons the best education money can buy, but I feel like I taught them values, too.
Nothing was handed to me on a silver platter, and I didn’t want any of them growing up with a silver spoon in their mouths.
I like to think I taught them the value of work ethic, and feeling the passion in what you do.
Persistence is key. It’s a motto I still live by to this day. And to see my sons all thriving in the family business fills my heart like nothing else.
On paper, I have it all. Except for a beautiful woman to come home to every night.
I’m helpfully reminded of my single status most days, not that it’s something I’m worried about.
I’m not short on finding a date, I’ve done it often enough.
But since my divorce all those years ago, it’s always been about sex.
Nothing meaningful. I’ve been on a million dates, but nothing has ever stuck.
Maybe my marriage breakdown left a permanent scar etched into my heart.
Judging by the lack of serious relationships I’ve had since then — or a relationship at all — maybe it’s true.
When I made my marriage vows, I meant every word. But over time, with children plus the stresses of work and climbing up the corporate ladder, things took their toll on both of us.
I loved Ella, there’s no doubt about it. And things were amicable during our split. We respect each other and co-parented the boys with relative ease. She’s the mother of my kids, and we spent many wonderful years together, but we knew when we’d grown apart.
I sigh over the nostalgia. Instead of dwelling on the past, I shift my thoughts to tonight and the dinner I’ve been forced into. Damn Mason. He’s the one who arranged Ruby’s tonight, as per Alison’s request. It didn’t take long for her to squirm.
I don’t know why my thoughts turn wild, or why my growing erection tents in my suit pants. It’s Alison Archer, for fuck’s sake. I can’t explain why the mere thought of her pert little mouth, pouting in annoyance at my earlier words, does things to me.
Stop being a dick.
I shake it off and ignore my body’s response to the thought of me fucking the living daylights out of her. That would wipe the fucking pout off her face.
I remind myself she’s my archenemy. Someone to keep at arm's length, not fantasize over because I haven’t been laid in a while.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe I need to get back out there, or at the very least, get laid.
I spend a little longer than normal getting ready for dinner. After a quick afternoon workout in my home gym, which has spectacular views of the Santa Monica Mountains, I shower and choose my finest Hugo Boss.
My home is more like a sprawling estate, nestled in the picturesque hilly slopes of Brentwood.
It was built in 1939 and pretty much a full renovation that took me and my brother the better part of two years.
I bought the house years ago after my divorce, and although I don’t get to spend as much time as I’d like at home, it’s still a place I consider my sanctuary.
With my frustrations temporarily at bay, I pull on a black button-up shirt with the tag still attached. I yank it off, quickly discarding it and decide I won’t add a tie, or my usual cufflinks, leaving two buttons undone at the nape. I’ve almost gone rogue.
As I drive to the restaurant thinking about my conversation with Alison this morning, a little guilt creeps in. I know it’s too late to change it now, but maybe I can redeem myself during dinner by giving her the fucking papers. I have them with me.
When I park and casually stroll into Ruby’s, the server who’s named Gina according to her name badge, greets me with a smile. “Good evening, Mr. Lucas.”
A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth just as my phone pings from in my pocket. “Good evening.”
“I have your usual table.”
I’m not sure how she knows that, since I don’t remember seeing her before, but I nod as I fish my cell from my pocket and follow her.
As I walk across the restaurant to the quiet corner table where the bi-fold windows open out to a very mild fall breeze and a closing ombré sunset of orange and gold, I quickly open the message from Joshua in our family group chat.
Joshua
Have fun tonight, Dad, if you remember the meaning of the word. Oh, and let's put this deal to bed, yeah? P.S. BE NICE!
I scoff at his words, well, the part about being nice. Alison isn’t here yet, so I take a seat as Gina pours me a glass of still water.
“Would you like anything else to drink for the moment, Mr. Lucas?”
I glance up from my phone. I could do with a shot right about now, just to take the edge off, but I decide against it.
“I’ll wait for my date—” Fuck. The words are already out, not that Gina knows any different.
This isn’t a date, dickhead. It’s a business proposal.
“No problem, I’ll be back with the menus in a moment.” Gina trots off back to the front reception and I bring my gaze back to my phone.
Another text drops in.
Bradley
Not the Anderson contract still? I thought that was a done deal already?
Then another…
Noah
Dad have fun? In what alternate universe are you living in, Josh?
Typical of Noah to not be one bit concerned with the contract.
He’s more a go with the flow kinda guy and everything works out eventually.
Joshua is a mixture of both Bradley and Noah; serious when it counts, but he has a playful side, too.
Bradley is more like the middle ground with all of us, always the voice of reason and has his mind permanently on the job.
Like me, he’s practically married to the business.
I also couldn’t help but notice Joshua was in an impromptu good mood this afternoon, and I’ve no idea what that was all about.
Probably a woman.
I quickly type back.
Me
Thanks for the pep talk, Noah. Who says I don’t know how to have fun? I’m at the restaurant now, as it happens
Noah
Taking one for the team on behalf of the Andersons
Me
I’ll grin and bear it as much as I can, but this is Alison Archer we’re talking about
What’s one meal? I can do this.
My clients haven’t been desperate to sell, but Alison’s couple offered three-hundred k more than others were offering. They want it bad, and that’s why I feel like a dick doing what I did. I let my ego get the best of me.
Bradley
If you’d signed off earlier today, this could have all been avoided, Pops. Just sayin’
Me
You know you’re sounding more and more like Joshua every day, son
Joshua
I assume in the way you mean I get the job done, without all the bullshit?
Bradley
Sure, that’s what he meant
Noah
I thought bullshit was your first language, Josh?
Joshua
I’ll remember that when I need a favor from you
Noah
Just keeping it real
Joshua
I think Dad just wants an excuse to wine and dine Alison Archer
Bradley
Finally you’re saying something that makes sense
I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose as I watch their messages unfold.
Me
Like I’d need an excuse? What I did today was strategy, keep the opposition on their toes. It’s textbook stuff
Noah
Great until our opposition starts plotting their revenge. I thought the first lesson in real estate was not to burn your bridges?
Me
You’re a romantic, son, just like your mother
Bradley
Cut the crap & admit it, Dad. You’ve been jonesing over Alison for years
I reach for my glass of water, amusement on my lips as I watch the messages bouncing in.
Joshua
That escalated quickly
Bradley
Deny it any time, Dad
Noah
Who says jonesing anymore?
A female voice alerts me and I almost choke on my sip of water.
I cough into my fist, my eyes snapping up as I half stand.
The first thing I see are long, tanned legs peeking out from the sexy slit of Alison’s knee-length red dress.
My eyes ascend, roaming over curvy hips, a cinched waist, and a rack I’d sit up and beg for.
Long, red hair flows over one shoulder, perky lips, creamy skin… and finally, emerald-green eyes that sparkle brighter than any diamond I’ve ever seen.
Alison Archer sure knows how to make an entrance.