by Gina Kincade
“George,” she smiled at him, leaning in to place a kiss on his weathered cheek. His skin flushed.
“Miss Lucy. A pleasure to see you. Will you be staying long?”
It was Lucy’s turn to flush. It was a gentle reprimand. She had stayed away from the house for a long while. In fact, she had moved out soon after her father had died. There were just too many memories.
“We’ll see.” She said.
George nodded, “They’re in the boardroom.”
“The boardroom?” Lucy was surprised.
“Lady Helen is full of surprises. I think you should see for yourself.”
Lucy looked at the transformed boardroom in awe. It had gotten its name from her father's working days. He liked to work from home and held almost all of his meetings at home, hence the name. Yes, Helen was definitely the ultimate hostess. She had transformed the room into a bright and classy affair. Gone were the long tables. Even the checkered floor tiles had been changed. Now, a chandelier hung in the center of the room. There was a buffet table with drinks on the other end of the large room. Tables with cluster of chairs had been arranged close to the walls, leaving the center of the room for dancing and socializing. It really was a classy affair, just like Helen.
Helen spotted her almost as soon as she entered the boardroom. She had on an elegant green evening dress that went well with the blonde hair that was piled artfully on her head, and her tall, slim body. Lucy had been jealous of Helen’s slim body when she was in high school. She had been a little chubby and unable to get rid of it no matter what she did. Thankfully, the baby fat had dropped as soon as she went to college.
“Lucy,” Helen looked happy to see her. Then she noticed what Lucy was wearing, “You didn’t like the dress I sent you?”
Here we go, Lucy thought.
“It was lovely,” Lucy replied, “It’s just not...” She bit her words when she saw Helen’s expression, but Helen already figured out what she had been about to say.
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have gone shopping for something you would like.”
Lucy barely held a grimace as she replied, “I didn’t it would be necessary. I like what you did with the boardroom.”
Helen gave a look, shook her head in amusement then smiled, “It is lovely, isn’t it?”
Lucy released the breath she held, grateful that Helen had dropped the dress issue. She nodded in agreement. “It is. Dad would love it.”
Helen beamed, her eyes looked shiny with tears, but she was smiling. Lucy hesitated then asked, "Are you happy?"
Helen pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes, careful of her makeup. Her gaze was far-away as she replied, "I am happy. I never thought that I would but...I promised him that I would, and I am. You've become a wonderful woman Lucy. Jeff would be so proud of you."
Lucy felt uncomfortable with the praise, mostly because it was rarely given. But her heart glowed at it, anyway.
“My two favorite ladies in the world,” Jake proclaimed as he appeared from the crowd of people and drew them both into side hugs.
Helen patted his chest affectionately, “Happy Birthday, Jake.”
"Thank you, Ma. The party is splendid; you outdid yourself."
He kissed her cheek, and she blushed. "I need to go make the rounds. Can't leave the guests to themselves. Spend some time with your sister." She cut a glance at Lucy, and she was gone.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Jake immediately asked, “What did you do?”
Lucy gave a delicate snot, “She didn’t like my clothes.”
Jake scanned the jeans, heels and shimmery silver blouse she had on. The blouse was off-the-shoulder and looked trendy on her.
“I think you look spell-binding.”
“I think you need to save some of the compliments for the debutantes present.”
Jake scrunched up his face, "Don't remind me. Mum has already taken me round. I have met every single, and available girl in the vicinity and I know their pedigree...they all come from good, wealthy stock."
Lucy laughed, “She just wants you to marry well.”
Helen had made it no secret that she wanted Jake to ‘settle down.' The problem was Jake did not think that twenty-nine was a good age to settle down. Whenever he talked with Lucy, he always said the same thing. He wanted to make his own money before he settled down. As far as he was concerned, all the money Dad had left was for Helen and Lucy. Lucy didn't think that, but she didn't argue with him over it.
“Don’t make me sound like a-”
Suddenly a slow grin grew on Jake’s face.
“What?” Lucy asked, turning to see what had caught his attention. Following his gaze, she saw Helen talking with two men, one older and one younger. She didn’t see why that was worthy of any note until Helen turned her head in their direction and nodded at her. The two men turned their gaze to her and Lucy suddenly felt uncomfortable. She had only seen that happen when Helen was trying to fix Jake up with a girl from a proper family. Jake’s muted laughter broke her out of her daze.
“Seems like you’re next on the marriage mart.”
“She wouldn’t dare,” Lucy muttered, but Helen was already making her way towards them, ‘gentlemen’ in tow.
Jake was already moving away.
“Jake, don’t leave me,” she hissed, but he waved at some random girl and started in her direction before Lucy could force him to stay.
Lucy manufactured a smile just as the entourage got to her side.
“Lucy, I’d like you to meet Ronald Presley and his son, Donald.”
Lucy turned her smile to them. Ronald shook her hand with both of his, and a ‘Please call me Ron.' Donald lifted her extended hand to his mouth for a medieval kiss. The touch of cold, wet lips against the back of her hand caused her to shiver. She had the desperate urge to wash her hands, thoroughly. She forced herself to keep the smile pasted on her face.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
"Likewise," Ron replied while Donald smiled at his side. The name, Ron, was a little too appropriate for the older man because of the flaming red hair on his head. Even aging had not dimmed the shine of the color. He had an elegant air about him despite the hair. Between herself and the two Presley men, they were an ad for red hair, bottled or otherwise. His son on the other hand, though possessing the same hair as his father did not carry it off as well as his father. Donald would have been considered handsome by some, even his excessive powdering of freckles could have been charming. But, the way he looked at her made her uncomfortable.
“...let’s leave the youngsters while we discuss...”
Lucy snapped out of her thoughts. What? Was Helen leaving her with a guy she just met? There was a reason she had avoided Helen’s parties. She was hopeless at conversations that were not about her art. Not, because she was ignorant or anything, but most of the people she talked with usually pretended to know more than they actually did about any given subject. She had given up after one guy had talked about the charity he worked with to help the country of Africa. Then, he had gone so far as to say that the poor natives still lived in huts. One of her good art friends was an African from the Democratic Republic of Congo and the pictures she showed her was definitely not of people who lived in huts. Africa was not one huge rural country, and Lucy disliked nothing more than ignorant people attempting to pull superiority.
“Your mother says you’re into art.”
Donald hadn’t waited for Helen and Ron to wander off before he started chatting her up. She wanted to protest the ‘Mother’ word, or question what he knew about art, but he continued.
“I’m a bit of an art enthusiast myself.”
Lucy barely lifted her brow, “Hmmm...really?”
"Yes. I actually wanted to study art in college, but father wanted me to go into the family business." His skin flushed at this confession. "Helen didn't say what kind of art you're into."
Lucy debated giving him her usual
answer for any of Helen's guests but decided to go with the truth.
“I design tattoos.”
His brows went up and...was that interest in his eyes?
He lowered his voice as though sharing state’s secrets, “You do? That sounds like so much fun?”
Does it? Lucy wanted to ask.
“I’ve always wanted to meet a tattoo artist. I even thought about a tattoo once, but my father would go mad if I did that.”
Lucy’s hid her surprise well. Points for Donald. He wasn’t a snob. Most of Helen’s acquaintances usually turned up their nose at her once they found out she was a tattoo artist. Lucy couldn’t resist prodding.
“You could always get a tattoo where no one can see it.”
He seemed to roll that through his mind then, “That actually never occurred to me. That’s something to consider.”
Once again, the red-haired man had managed to surprise Lucy. “If I finally decide to get one, can I ask you to do the design for me?”
Mutely Lucy nodded.
“Can I get your number?”
Lucy gave it to him.
AFTER THAT EPISODE, Helen had tried to introduce Lucy to other ‘eligible gentlemen,' her words, most as snobby as the other. At first, Lucy managed to avoid Helen. Soon, it became evident that Helen was just as determined to have her way. After she had met Jamie Knight, the third cousin of some celebrity, she had finally taken refuge in the kitchen. George had happened by, and she had dragged him out of the boardroom just as Helen had honed in on her again. Thankfully, George had been kind enough to promise to steer Helen away from the kitchen for a while.
Lucy sat in one corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as the waiters hustled in and out of the kitchen with more champagne and hors d'oeuvres. It was fascinating for her to watch them at work. In its own way, it was a kind of art, a carefully orchestrated dance as they bustled in and out and balanced everything with elegant finesse. Her stomach rumbled from staring at all the food. She hadn't eaten anything since she had spent the evening avoiding her Helen. At that moment George walked into the kitchen from the hallway kitchen entrance. He stopped just inside the door when he noticed the big smile she directed at him. A small smile had tipped the corner of his lips before he resumed his stern demeanor.
“Miss Lucy?”
“I’m hungry, George. I didn’t get anything because...”
She didn't need to finish; he got the picture. He went to a lady who seemed to be in charge of the waiters, had a few words, and soon she had shrimp gumbo on a bed of rice with a side of coleslaw. She hadn't had seafood in a long time, and shrimp was always her favorite.
Planting a big kiss on George’s cheeks in gratitude, she tucked into the food with gusto. She always enjoyed great food whenever she could. She was a little bit of a foodie. The only problem was that she wasn’t a great cook. Mostly, she had learned because Helen had insisted, but she had never been adept at it. So, most of the time, she ate at really great places and cooked when she couldn’t afford to go out.
She was just about finished with the food when George came in again. “Call for you from a lady who calls herself Andrea. She says you are very good friends.” He raised his brows at the last part.
Andrea. Andrea! “I’ll take it in the library.”
George nodded and escorted Lucy out.
“HELLO.”
“Lucy, it’s Andrea! We met at the-”
“I remember. How did you get this number?”
“I have my sources. Besides, your number is not listed. Here was the only option, especially when I heard your step-mum was throwing a bash for your step-brother.” Lucy could hear the smile in Andrea’s voice when she added, “You didn’t tell me you were Jake Cooper’s sister.”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
Andrea sniffed, “That’s hardly fair given I just spoke to Ryan about mentoring you.”
Lucy gasped, not sure she had heard right. “What...what did you say?” She whispered.
“I talked to Ryan about mentoring you. He hasn’t given a, ‘yes,’ yet but I’m sure once he meets you, he will agree to do it. You are just as talented if not more than he was at your age.”
Lucy didn’t hear the compliment. Her mind hadn’t gone past ‘...once he meets you...’
"...if you're free tomorrow; I can arrange for you to meet him. I think the soonest you get started the better."
“Tomorrow??!!” Lucy nearly shouted.
“Tomorrow isn’t convenient?”
Lucy nearly smacked herself on the head. It was Ryan ‘Jazz’ Milton. Con would kill her if she said anything but, ‘Yes.’
“Tomorrow is perfect.”
"Great! It'll be perfect, you'll see. Give me your number, and I'll text the address to you."
Lucy gave it to her.
“I’m so excited for you,” Andrea said.
Lucy was quiet for a moment. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you helping me?”
"Why? That's a big question. The simplest answer, you really are talented, and you deserved a break. But don't assume I'm a saint. I have my own motives. Maybe, one day I'll tell you about them."
Lucy was pensive about Andrea's motives, but when it came down to it, she was going to meet Jazz, and for now, that was enough for her to worry about.
“Whatever your reasons, thank you.”
“I’ll send you the details,” something in Andrea’s voice alerted her that the woman might not be comfortable with gratitude, “Just be there on time. My brother hates tardiness.”
At this Lucy laughed, “I’ll probably be too early.”
SHE WAS RUNNING LATE! Helen had wanted her to stay the night after the party, but she had made her excuses. Instead of going home as she should have, she had been too excited. She had gone over to Con and Stace’s. Con had been out of his mind with ecstasy. He had almost invited himself along, several times. Despite Stacy’s prodding, neither of them had slept a wink. They had talked all night, and come up with new tattoo design for her to show Jazz. It had not been a question in his mind that he would say, ‘No.’
Lucy pulled up in front of the tall residential building that Andrea had sent to her. Andrea had simply said it was a meet. Lucy had not known if she should bring her portfolio or not. In the end, she had.
The door man raised his brows at her as she walked towards the building. She told him which floor she was going and who she was there to see. An expression crossed his face, but it was gone too quickly to mask it. He opened the door for her, spoke to another man in the reception area who motioned her over as he called up the room.
“There’s a Miss Lucy Sanders to see you.”
Lucy watched him, expecting to get turned away, for some reason. What if it was all a big joke? What if Jazz had changed his mind?
“I’ll show you up.”
Lucy nodded frantically and hurried into the elevator before Jazz called to change his mind. It was when the man pressed a button in the elevator that she realized they were going to the penthouse! The reality of who she was meeting dawned on her, and she felt a near panic. What if Jazz didn’t like her work? What if he said he wouldn’t mentor her? What if he thought she didn’t have talent?
The sound of throat clearing alerted her that she was not alone in the elevator.
“You’re Lucy Sanders?” It was not a question, “I follow you on Instagram. Your designs are inspiring.”
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, “Thank you! I needed that.”
“I’m Adam,” he said, “You’ll be fine.”
Lucy nodded not sure he knew why she was here but glad for the company.
“Thank you, Adam.”
The elevator pinged as it opened into a hallway.
“I’m afraid this is where I leave you. It’s the suite on your left. Good luck.”
The elevator was closing as he said the last part. Lucy felt so desperate that she almost called him back. Taking a
deep breath, she approached the door to her left and pressed the doorbell.
“Come in,” a deep voice called from within.
Taking one more fortifying breath, she opened the door and walked in.
The first thing she noticed was how bright and cheery the room was. The open living room must have been built on the corner walls of the building, for it was a beautiful, open view of the city from the many windows that decorated the walls. The effect; the room was flooded with light.
He was standing by one of the windows. His back was turned to her and the light streaming from the window where he stood made it hard to see him at first.
“You’re late,” he rumbled.
“I’m sorry, it was-”
He turned at the moment she would have begun her explanation, and she was struck silent. He was huge. She had known he was a tall man from the pictures she had collected as a teenager, but she had never imagined him this tall or this massive. He had to be about six-five and probably almost two hundred and fifty pounds. Her eyes ran over his features, unconscious that he was doing the same for her. His chocolate brown hair crowned his head in unruly curls. They were just past shoulder length and obviously needed to be cut. His jaw was sprinkled with a light beard that gave them more definition. His lips were sharply defined and unforgiving, but the pink fullness of them begged to be kissed. Her eyes swept across his cheek bones to his eyes, and he found them trained on her.
She blushed. She couldn’t help it. She had crushed on him most of her teenage years. Seeing him now, more magnificent than her girlish dreams, it did something to her inside. It also built a determination in her to make this work. He must choose to mentor her.
"Come closer," his voice had gone deeper, and there was something in his eyes that warned her to beware, but she couldn't figure out why. The hair at the nape of her neck stirred, and she felt a queer premonition pass over her. She stiffened. Ryan ‘Jazz’ Milton wasn’t watching her like a normal man would. He watched her like a hunter would a prey. For some reason, she felt like she had walked into the lion’s den, and she had to watch her every move or she would be eaten up alive.