Chapter 22 #2
“Yeah, why not? All careers and businesses start out with risk. You gotta do it anyway. You’re smart and passionate; I have no doubt you could write something great. You probably already have.” His palm gestured toward my laptop.
A lump formed in my throat. “Thanks, Luke.”
“Let’s talk about the practical plan. Don’t go anywhere.” His pointer finger wagged at me, an order to stay put. He strode to the fridge, took out a beer, and placed it on the table next to my wine glass. Then he bounded up the stairs. He returned moments later with a legal pad and a pen.
He dropped into the chair beside mine, took a big swig of his beer, and wrote, Author Business Plan at the top of the page. His hand pushed the notepad to his right, positioning it between us.
“I mean, I don’t know if I have a plan per se, it’s more at the dream stage right now.”
“That’s why we’re making one. This is what they taught us in business school. You gotta take the vision and turn it into a plan.”
What had I done to earn this level of confidence from him? Maybe he was just an encouraging person. Either way, a smile spread across my face and happy tears brimmed in my eyes. He’s taking me seriously.
“Okay.” I swallowed.
“The first thing is a summary.” He gripped the pen in his fingers and scrawled: Lawyer and reading addict to write her own novels about: “We’ll leave that blank for now and come back to it. Next is goals.”
I chewed on my lip.
“These can be objective and start small.” He turned in his seat to face me, his thigh colliding with mine under the table.
His face was so close, I felt his breath on my cheek when he released it.
He didn’t pull his leg back, leaving it there, flush with mine, making my breaths shorter, my neck warmer. Should I scooch back?
I didn’t want to.
Hyperawareness of how alone we were—sitting in this quiet kitchen, the world dark outside the windows—set in. I lost my train of thought. What did he just ask me?
Oh right, goals.
He took a sip of his beer, watching my face intently, a ghost of a grin on his full pink lips, like he knew he’d distracted me.
“Goals,” I repeated. “I want to write at least four times per week, either for three hours or 1500 words.” He jotted those down in bullets. “I want to read books about writing, learn more about the craft, self-educate, you know?”
“Great.” His pen raced across the page.
“I want to turn the story I’m writing into a full novel and look into publishing it.” It was the first time I’d said it, even to myself.
“What are you calling it?”
“I don’t have a title yet but let’s say…Insider Trading Meet-Cute.”
A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “I need to hear more about this.” Black ink appeared on the page next to a new bullet: Turn Insider Trading Meet-Cute into full novel, then publish.
Ten words, now in writing, in the universe.
“Alright now let’s start with money. Like any new business, you’ll be operating at a loss for a while, but you still need to support yourself in the meantime.”
He jotted down categories: monthly expenses, monthly income, business investments. He turned and looked at me, nodding to the page.
“My expenses are pretty low, living with Mimi.” I estimated what my health insurance would cost if I quit, gas, groceries, and car payment. “And I’d insist on paying Mimi to cover taxes and utilities after she goes back to Florida.”
His eyes whipped from the notepad to my face. “You’re considering staying on the island full-time?”
I met his gaze. Wide-eyed, sincere curiosity stared back at me. I almost took it back, told him I had no idea if I’d stay on the island, but the look on his face stopped me. I nodded.
Did he want me to stay?
The corner of his mouth ticked up, my only clue the answer might be yes.
Luke cleared his throat and looked back down at the page. “What was that estimate again?”
I repeated what I’d want to contribute to Mimi’s taxes and utilities, and he jotted it down.
In the income category, he wrote down what he pays me. “Do you have enough time to write now? With all of Luna’s commitments?”
“Yes. Her schedule is actually good for me. It keeps me disciplined.”
“Good. And every six months you should negotiate a pay increase. Because of inflation. And increasing job challenge as Luna continues to hone her spunky attitude.”
“Luke, you don’t need to pay me more.”
“I’m just giving you objective advice I would give any business mentee.”
I shook my head but didn’t bother objecting aloud for a second time. Under no circumstances would I be asking him to increase my pay.
He stretched his long legs under the table and leaned back in his chair.
My knee silently protested the loss of contact.
My fingers skated along the spot where our legs had been pressed together for the last several minutes.
He looked like a man that was so comfortable—in his house, sitting at his kitchen table—there was no place he’d rather be.
“So, tell me about this Insider Trading book,” he beckoned.
“No shit, this dude goes into his girlfriend’s home office, goes through her private work documents, and then invests $100K into a company he knows is about to be bought.”
“It actually happens more often than you’d think.”
“Fuck, I feel bad for her. It’s not her fault she trusted the wrong person.”
“I do too! That’s exactly my point. But the investigator—he doesn’t feel bad for her at first. He thinks it was reckless she left the documents lying around. Until he gets to know her better and realizes what she’s lost far outweighs the magnitude of her error.”
Luke watched me intently as I spoke. “I think it sounds great. I want a signed copy.”
I shoved his shoulder. His body didn’t move at all.
“What?” he asked, eyes flaring with mock indignation.
“You’re humoring me.”
“I am not! I listened to the whole pitch, and it sounds good. I’ll watch the movie, too. I love that white collar crime shit.”
I didn’t fight my smile for once.
He’d opened another beer and refilled my wine glass while I rambled about my story and how I started writing it.
We hadn’t moved from the table, but we’d turned our chairs so we were facing each other.
I sat cross-legged, my sundress draped over my knees.
He’d undone the top two buttons of his shirt, unfortunately only revealing the neck of a white undershirt.
Eventually, I looked back down. He watched me fidget with the skirt of my dress for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry your boyfriend called it a hobby.
He probably didn’t mean it to be hurtful, but I know it sucks to hear stuff like that when you’re dreaming about making it a bigger part of your life. ”
I looked at him. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience?”
“Yeah. I had more stable options back in Pennsylvania. Established construction companies where I could have gotten a desk job after college. People told me moving to a new place and opening my own business was risky and likely to fail. But I didn’t listen to them.
I wanted something that was mine; I wanted to create jobs, provide a more affordable option for people.
Our old boss always only wanted to take the big jobs, the most expensive renovations and new builds.
Anyone who called that just wanted a new bathroom, or a new deck, we’d turn down.
So I made that part of my mission: we’d do big and small jobs.
Starting out, it was a lot of the smaller jobs, but eventually those created relationships and leads, and now I get just as many big jobs, too. ”
“That’s a pretty awesome origin story for Karas Construction.”
He shrugged, humble.
This man.
“I mean it, it’s impressive.” I grabbed his forearm for emphasis, but quickly removed my hand. His gaze moved to the spot where I’d touched him.
“Thanks, Val,” he murmured.
“It’s inspiring, too,” I added. His eyes widened, like it meant something to him that I found him inspiring, like he was surprised I said that.
I finished my glass of wine and angled my head up to the ceiling, a soft sigh escaping my lips as my mind reverted to my own next steps.
Sensing the train of my thoughts, Luke said, “Honestly, Val, and I mean this in a nice way, but who cares if they don’t get it? You get it. You know why you’re doing it. So who cares what your old coworkers or anyone else thinks?”
Luke was right, of course. My therapist had been asking similar questions lately, too, especially after I finally revealed to her how much I loved writing, how I would be excited to wake up every day if that were my real job.
“I know you’re right. I’m…” I pursed my lips to the side. Luke’s gaze flashed to my mouth. “I’m working on it.”
Then my eyes caught the time on the stove: 11:00 p.m.
“It’s late,” I said. “I should probably head home.”
Luke nodded but didn’t move.
My legs found the floor and as I pushed myself up, the room tilted. Crap. Half a box of kids’ macaroni and cheese was no match for three generous glasses of wine.
“Actually, I don’t think I can drive,” I admitted, embarrassed. He glanced at the wine glass and then at my face. “I know it’s a short drive but…the wine went to my head.” I felt the need to explain and apologize. “I’ll just walk and come back in the morning to grab my car.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Luke, it’s only a mile—a twenty-minute walk, tops.”
“It’s dark, there aren’t many streetlights in this neighborhood, no sidewalks, and there’ll be a bunch of drunks driving home from dinner right now. No.” His voice was a command. “You’re sleeping here. Text Mimi, I’m sure she’s still up.”
He was standing now too, towering over me.
I tipped my head up and opened my mouth to protest again, but it was plain from his expression that he would have none of it: lips a thin line, dark eyes serious as sin.
It was hot as hell. The untamable part of my mind was already wondering how I could get him to boss me around again.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Nope. I’m going to go change the sheets in the guest room.”
“Luke,” I whined, dragging out the monosyllabic name. “You don’t need to do that.” I’m his babysitter, I’m supposed to be helping him, not burdening him.
In a few big strides, he was at the base of the stairs. “Help if you want, but I’m doing it anyway.”
I groaned quietly, grabbed my things, and followed him up the stairs.
“Thanks again for all the cleaning you did. My parents didn’t make any comments about the house other than to say it looked great,” Luke said as he tossed a corner of the fitted sheet in my direction.
“I’m glad.” I tucked the sheet around the edge of the mattress before moving to the foot of the bed. “Did you have a good time with them overall? Luna told me she did.”
“Yeah, it went well. They didn’t say anything else that implied Luna would be better off in Pennsylvania for the rest of the week, and Luna always has a great time with them.
I’m happy when she’s happy.” He shrugged, and warmth filled my veins.
“My dad actually mentioned the idea of retiring. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say the word before.
My mom said they’d love to spend more time here after he retires. And I do kinda miss them, honestly.”
“I’m sure they miss you, too. That’s awesome he’s considering retiring and they’d spend more time here when he does. They’d have to get their own place, of course.”
“Of course.” He grinned.
He fluffed the last pillow after putting on the fresh case. “Need anything else?”
“If I do, I know where to find it.”
“True.”
He walked slowly toward the door. I followed, so I could shut it behind him.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, he turned.
I stopped short. He lifted his arm, leaning his elbow on the door frame.
It was the perfect position, his head leaning just low enough that I could lift my mouth to his if I wanted to.
His eyes roamed to my lips, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. Was he doing this on purpose?
“Night, Val.” A smirk played on his lips as his gaze lifted back to my eyes. Slow. Covetous.
He didn’t move until I said, “Goodnight, Luke.”
I closed the door and leaned back against it. My fingers found my lips, my pulse still roaring. Maybe my little crush on my boss isn’t one-sided, after all.
I think he wanted to kiss me just now.
And I wanted to let him.
An image of Max’s goofy smile and wind-blown, light brown hair at the beach earlier today flashed through my mind like a tocsin. I have a boyfriend, I reminded myself. I wasn’t allowed to want Luke to kiss me.
Guilt crashed over me like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames I’d just felt down to nothing.