Page 13 of Passion

“Luke.” I smiled. “I’ll see you after a few hours.”

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up and headed straight for Tina’s desk. She would do the busy work of making the arrangements while I finished the boring meeting. It would still be boring, but I had something to look forward to now. I couldn’t wait to get home and help Vera settle in.

11

VERA

The car pulled through the gates after the driver typed in the security code. He drove slowly down the wide street, passing massive homes with sprawling laws, landscaped with towering palms and hybrid, tropical plants. The Southwestern architecture was reminiscent of my time in Albuquerque, a few squat troubadours interspersed with the Spanish mission-style homes. I marveled at each and every one of them. It felt like the driver took it slow just so I could gawk.

The car pulled into a driveway at the very end of a cul-de-sac, the largest home on the street. The driveway was lined with rock gardens, out of which sprouted giant elephant-ear philodendrons and more native palmettos. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Despite the hurricane and several palms that were missing leaves, it looked like his property hadn’t been touched. I almost felt like I was in the wrong place. Lucas was too laid-back to live in a place like this.

“Here, Miss.” The driver had hardly spoken to me except to confirm my name, which was challenging because, as Lucas had warned me, he hardly spoke English at all.

“I think we’re in the wrong place. Is this really Lucas Smith’s house?” I craned my neck to look out the window at the spindly palm tree overhead.

“This right house. I help you.” Before I could protest, he was out the door and around to the passenger side. He opened the door for me, then went to the trunk and retrieved my luggage. I hadn’t had a chance to even stop by my place and collect any clothing, so all I had were the few sundresses and bikinis I'd packed, along with the dirty sweatpants and other comfort clothes I had for traveling to the island. I didn’t know what I’d do for clothes, but I had no choice.

I stepped out of the car, and the driver was there immediately, handing me my bag. “You go.” He gestured toward the door and smiled, and I nodded. I hoped the housekeeper’s English was better than this guy’s. I didn't even know his name.

Following his orders, I headed for the front door, unsure whether I should knock, or ring the bell, or just walk in. This was apparently my home for a short time, but I had never been here, so it felt odd. My quandary was settled for me, however, as soon as I stepped on the porch. The door was whisked open by a gorgeous Latina with dark brown eyes, full ruby lips, wide hips, and long, curly hair.

“Oh, Ms. Vera, so glad you could make it.” She stepped aside, drawing her arm inward and bowing. “Come in, come in.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that I could at least understand her and walked past her. The inside of the house was more breathtaking than the outside. I could see straight through the open concept living-dining area to the back wall of the home where a crew of men in construction gear were actively removing boards from the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows. My jaw dropped at the sight. Lucas’s entire home was furnished in hues of white and black. A leather sofa curved around an open fire pit, a stainless-steel vent hood hanging above it.

“Here, here, let me take things.” The housekeeper, whose name I’d already forgotten, took my suitcase from my hand and continued in her improper English. “You go to living room. I take your bag upstairs. I be right back.” Her smile was gorgeous. I could tell she was very happy working for Lucas. She gestured with her hands, swatting at me, and I let go of the suitcase and clutched my phone and purse to my stomach as I wandered deeper into the home.

I stood by the back windows watching the violent ocean waves crashing on the beach just over a row of short hedges. The water was still stirred up by the powerful winds trailing behind the storm. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but soon the housekeeper was back and I was being ushered into the kitchen area to eat. She placed a bowl of some sort of soup in front of me, and I would have been rude not to eat, so I spooned a bite into my mouth and groaned at how delicious it was. She grinned and clapped, then turned her attention to other things.

When I was finished eating, I pushed the dish away and the housekeeper took it. As she did, I said, “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“I’m Ella. Now you come with me. I show you room.” She took my hand and walked faster than I thought someone of her stature could walk. I kept up with her just fine, my long legs out-matching hers. She led me up the winding staircase to the second floor where the view was even more fantastic. I watched the waves out the window from the landing while she opened the door to a bedroom then sent me in. “Go, go,” she ordered, “Mr. Lucas be home soon. Freshen up.”

I stumbled into the room, seeing more stunning architecture and décor. Lucas had a unique taste—mostly modern with touches of the Pueblo art I’d had the pleasure of viewing on trips to Arizona and New Mexico. I noticed an alarm clock on the nightstand, some men’s clothing stacked on a hope chest at the foot of his bed, and a novel on the dresser. This wasn’t a guest room. This was Lucas’s room. My suitcase sat on the bed. I turned abruptly.

“This isn’t right.” I heard a door open and shut downstairs and craned my neck over her shoulder. “Uh, I think this is Lucas’s room.”

Ella looked concerned. “No, this your room. Mr. Lucas say this your room.” Her hands flicked at me, urging me to enter the room, but I planted my feet. I glanced at the closet, a pair of shoes on the floor just by the door.

“Something tells me you’re mistaken.”

“What you say?” She scrunched her face up and shook her head. “I do what Mr. Lucas say. This your room.”

Confused, a little overwhelmed, and frustrated, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait until Lucas got home to settle this. I smiled and thanked her, and she left the room, but I didn’t move except to turn and study the room a bit more fully. A plain, white, cotton comforter lay across the bed, the headboard made of black leather. The bed was nestled between two windows, a third on the opposite wall. A television hung on the wall in the far corner, and to my right was another door, presumably the bathroom.

Lucas had expensive taste, and I felt like if I touched anything, I’d tarnish it somehow. Not that I was poor, by any means. I had grown up with money, but once I ventured out on my own, I had gained a new appreciation for how much things cost, and I valued things a lot more fully now. The painting on the wall would have cost at least three modeling shoots’ worth of income for me. It wasn’t something that escaped my attention.

The door opened, and I turned, expecting Ella, but saw Lucas. He wore a suit, tie untied and draped around his neck, the collar of his shirt open. The stubble on his face spoke of how long it had been since he’d shaved, a few days, maybe, but it seemed fuller since I’d seen him this morning.

“Hey, Vera. Ella told me you were here. I hope you’ve found everything to your liking.” His eyes took me in then landed on the bed where my suitcase lay. “You haven’t unpacked? Oh, and we’ll have to go shopping to get you a few things.” He strolled in, walking straight to my bag and unzipping it. “I can help if you’re tired.”

I didn’t want to be rude, but he had to know this was not okay. “Uh, Luke.” I cleared my throat and joined him, standing by the bed. He pulled a stack of my clothes out of my bag, and I picked them up, putting them back in. “I think there has been a mix-up.”

Lucas picked them back up and looked at me with confusion. “No mix-up.” He set them back on the bed and grabbed another stack of clothes.

“Yes, well this looks like your room.” I bit my lip. I really hoped he didn’t find me rude. He had offered such a generous gift of hospitality, and I knew better than to upset him.

“That’s because it is.” He grinned and set the second stack of clothes next to the first. Then he turned and took my shoulders. “The guest room had a window break during the storm, and the crews are still repairing it. It will be a few days before it’s fixed up. I thought you could sleep with me because… well… because of what happened on the island. If you’re not comfortable, I can sleep on the couch.”

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