20. Twenty
Twenty
Luke
The Capital Grille feels like a stage set tonight, with everyone playing their assigned roles to perfection. Crystal sparkles in something silver and extravagant while Marcus holds court at the head of the private dining room like a king overseeing his subjects. Even the other diners seem carefully chosen—Jacksonville’s elite, here to witness this merger of money and music.
Dad arrives exactly on time, looking stronger than he has in months. If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess he was putting on an act.
“Son.” He hugs me with just the right amount of fatherly pride. “Crystal, you look lovely.”
“Jim!” She air kisses his cheeks. “We’re so happy you could make it. Aren’t we, Daddy?”
Marcus raises his crystal wine glass. “Indeed. Nothing better than family coming together.”
The threat underlying his words isn’t lost on either of us, but Dad just smiles and takes his seat. I catch Jaxson’s warnings echoing in my head: The fewer details he knows, the more genuine his reactions will be.
“Luke, dear.” Crystal loops her arm through mine. “Come say hello to the Hendersons. They simply must attend the wedding.”
I let her drag me around the room, making small talk and accepting congratulations from people I barely know. My cheeks hurt from fake smiling, but Marcus watches my every move like a hawk studying its prey.
“To the happy couple!” Someone calls out, and suddenly, everyone’s raising glasses.
“Speech!” Crystal squeezes my arm hard enough to leave marks. “Luke, say something! ”
The room falls quiet, all eyes on me. Dad gives me an imperceptible nod—play the part, his eyes say. Just a little longer.
I clear my throat. “Crystal and I...” The words taste like ashes. “We’re overwhelmed by everyone’s support. This partnership—“ Marcus’s eyes narrow at my word choice, ”—this union of our families feels...”
“Destined,” Crystal supplies helpfully.
“Right,” I manage. “Thank you all for being here tonight.”
“And thank you, Marcus,” Dad stands smoothly, saving me. “For welcoming my son into your family with such... enthusiasm.”
The subtle emphasis isn’t lost on Marcus, but he just smiles that snake’s smile. “Family is everything, isn’t it, Jim? The legacy we leave, the empire we build...”
“Among other things,” Dad replies mildly.
Dinner arrives—perfectly cooked steaks and wine. Crystal chatters about venue options while her mother nods vacantly, clearly medicated into serenity. The other guests add appropriate commentary about flowers and dates and all the details I can’t bring myself even to pretend to care about.
“June weddings are so lovely,” someone gushes.
“Yes,” Crystal laughs. “Daddy thinks we shouldn’t wait too long. Right, Daddy?”
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth as I try not to choke.
“The sooner, the better,” Marcus agrees, watching me carefully. “Why wait when you know it’s right?”
“The band’s schedule… our tour,” I start.
“Can be adjusted.” Marcus’s tone brooks no argument. “After all, family comes first. Isn’t that right, Jim?”
Dad sets down his wine glass with perfect control. “Of course. Though these things do take time to plan properly.”
“Money makes everything move faster.” Marcus signals for more wine. “I’ve already spoken to several exclusive venues about dates.”
The room suddenly feels too small, too hot.
“Excuse me.” I stand abruptly. “I need some air.”
The restaurant’s back hallway offers a temporary escape. I lean against the wall, loosening my tie, trying to breathe.
“Quite the performance.” Dad’s voice makes me jump. He joins me, looking tired but determined. “Jaxson’s timeline? ”
“Three weeks,” I whisper. “So, there’s time… I just hate all of this. How Marcus needs to control everything.”
“We’ll handle it.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Your mother would be proud, you know. Standing up to bullies was always her specialty.”
“I’m not standing up to anyone,” I say bitterly. “I’m playing along like a puppet.”
“You’re protecting what matters.” His voice turns fierce. “Sometimes that means swallowing your pride and waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“What if we don’t get that moment?”
“We will.” He straightens my tie with familiar hands. “Now come on. Let’s go watch Marcus think he’s winning.”
Back in the dining room, Crystal pounces immediately. “There you are! Everyone’s asking about our wedding dance. I was thinking something from the band’s first album...”
I let her chatter wash over me, watching Marcus hold court at his end of the table. He’s already talking about board meetings and transition plans, only thinly disguising his future plans to take over the company .
“Whatever you want,” I tell Crystal because it’s easier than arguing.
She beams, squeezing my arm possessively. “See? I told Daddy you’d be perfectly reasonable once everything was settled.”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of champagne toasts and pointed comments from Marcus about ‘fresh perspectives’ and ‘necessary changes’ at Sterling Motors. Dad plays his part flawlessly, appearing just concerned enough about the company’s future without seeming suspicious.
By the time the last guest leaves, my jaw aches from forced smiling.
“Walk me to my car?” Crystal pouts prettily.
Outside, she turns into my arms, clearly expecting a goodnight kiss. I manage a quick peck, already calculating how quickly I can make an exit.
“Dream of me,” she sighs dramatically.
I will—but they’ll be nightmares.
Marcus appears as she clicks ahead on designer heels, walking to their car. “Excellent evening, wouldn’t you say?”
“Perfect,” I lie.
“Crystal’ s right about the wedding.” His tone hardens slightly. “No reason to delay joining our families... officially.”
The threat hangs between us like smoke. I think of Jackson, of Lila waiting patiently at home, of Dad playing his part so perfectly tonight.
“No reason at all,” I agree, hating every word.
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Very good, then. We’ll start venue hunting Monday.”
I watch them drive away in his luxury car, Crystal waving from the passenger seat like a princess in a parade. Dad appears at my shoulder, looking as exhausted as I feel.
“Home?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah.” I loosen my tie completely. “Need a ride?”
“Marie’s waiting.” He studies me carefully. “You did well tonight, son. Just...”
“I know.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Be careful.”
The drive home feels endless. All I want is to go to Lila’s and wash away this night with her quiet understanding and steady presence. Instead, I park in the driveway and head straight for the shower, trying to scrub away the feeling of Crystal’s possessive touches and Marcus’s calculating stares.
Three weeks suddenly feels like an eternity.
The morning after the engagement dinner from hell, I run until my legs burn, trying to outpace the memory of Marcus’s threats and Crystal’s shrill voice. The sun climbs higher as I push myself along the beach, sweat soaking my shirt despite the ocean breeze.
By the time I circle back toward home, the morning crowds have thinned, leaving the beach nearly empty. That’s when I see her.
Lila emerges from the waves like something from a dream, water streaming down her curves, her purple swimsuit starkly contrasting against her sun-kissed skin. Her blonde hair falls in wet ropes down her back as she walks toward shore, completely unaware of how the rising sun turns the water droplets on her skin into diamonds.
I stop dead, unable to look away. Unable to breathe.
She bends to pick up her towel from the sand, and my mouth goes dry. Every line of her body is a masterpiece—strong from hours in the kitchen, yet graceful and perfectly curved in all the right places. She’s nothing like the society women at last night’s dinner, with their sharp angles and artificial perfection. Lila is real, warm, and absolutely magnificent.
I should turn away. I should go inside, take a cold shower, and remember all the reasons we need to keep our distance. Instead, I find myself following her path toward our deck, staying close to the dune line where the sea oats provide cover.
She climbs the steps, humming something under her breath—one of our songs, I realize with a jolt of pleasure. The towel’s draped around her shoulders, but it does little to hide the way her wet swimsuit clings to her every curve.
“You’re staring,” she says without turning around.
Caught, I step out of the shadows. “Can you blame me?”
She faces me then, and the morning light catches the water droplets in her eyelashes. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere more... appropriate?”
“Probably.” I climb the steps, drawn to her like gravity. “But I couldn’t look away.”
She turns and opens the glass sliding door. I silently follow her inside, turning to face her.
“Luke...” Her voice holds a warning, but she doesn’t step back as I move in closer.
“You looked like a goddess,” I tell her honestly. “Rising from the sea like Aphrodite...”
A blush colors her cheeks. “I look like a wet mess.”
“You look perfect.” I reach out and catch a drop of water sliding down her neck. “You’re absolute perfection.”
Her breath catches. “We shouldn’t...”
“I know.” But I can’t stop touching her, tracing the path of another droplet down her collarbone. “Just... let me look at you—touch you. Please.”
She shivers despite the warm morning. “How was last night?”
“Horrible.” My hand slides to her waist, continuing to her hip, feeling the warm silk of her skin through the wet fabric.
“Crystal’s already planning the wedding. Marcus insists we don’t wait.” I inform her. But the words taste sour in my mouth—talking about Crystal doesn’t seem right when I have Lila in my arms.
“Really?” Her eyes widen.
“Yeah,” I rest my forehead against hers, needing her closeness. “But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Somehow. ”
She lifts her hand to my cheek, and I turn into her touch. “Luke, you look tired.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about us, about everything we can’t have yet. So, I went running instead.”
“I can tell.” Her fingers trace the sweat at my temple. “You’re all hot and...”
I kiss her before she can finish, unable to resist any longer. She tastes like salt water and sunrise, like everything pure and real in my complicated world. Her towel falls forgotten as she winds her arms around my neck, pressing her damp body against mine despite my sweaty running clothes.
The kiss deepens and turns desperate. My hands slide over her wet skin as I pull her closer, needing to feel her warmth, her reality. She makes a soft sound that nearly breaks my control.
“We have to stop,” she whispers against my mouth.
“I know.” But I kiss her again, softer this time. “I know.”
“Someone could see...”
“Right.” I force myself to step back, though everything in me protests the distance. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“
“Don’t.” She touches my lips gently. “Don’t apologize for this. Not ever.”
A door slams somewhere down the beach, making us both jump. Reality crashes back like a cold wave.
“I should go,” I say reluctantly. “Before someone...”
“Yeah.” She picks up her fallen towel, wrapping it around herself like armor. “Be careful, okay?”
I back away slowly, memorizing every detail—the way the morning light plays on her damp skin, the slight swelling of her well-kissed lips, the look in her eyes that tells me she’s doing the same.
“Luke?” she softly calls as I reach the steps.
“Yeah?”
“You look pretty perfect yourself.”
The compliment warms me all the way to my lonely apartment, where I finally let myself remember every detail of our stolen moment—the taste of salt on her skin, the soft sounds she made, the way she felt pressed against me.
I touch my lips, still tasting sea salt and sunrise, and try to believe that everything will work out. That somehow, we’ll find a way through this maze of complications and obligations. The morning’s stolen moment replays in my mind—Lila rising from the waves, perfect and real, a vision worth any wait.
For now, that memory will have to be enough.