Page 127 of Boss of the Year

Page List

Font Size:

“It’s difficult to thrive under the pressures of what other people want you to be,” he said after a minute or two. “No matter what those pressures are.”

“Yeah, it must be really hard being a billionaire.” I couldn’t quite keep the bitterness away. Maybe he was right, and my family did bring that out in me. Or maybe there was something about Lucas that made me feel brave enough to speak my mind.“All that money, people wanting to be around you all the time. Sounds horrible.”

“It’s not real, Marie. None of it is. And I didn’t choose this life for myself.”

“No, but you kept it,” I returned. “And who would walk away from that kind of money, even if the cost of maintaining it made them unhappy? Or was immoral, for that matter. Some people think billionaires shouldn’t even exist, do you know that?”

His mouth folded into a tight line. “I’m aware of that theory. Are you one of them?”

“What if I were? It wouldn’t matter, right? Not just because I’m a nobody, but because you’d be crazy to give up everything you have. People would think you were legitimately insane.”

I didn’t know why this was bothering me so much. I had spent enough time with Lucas to know that the man felt trapped and had since he was a small child, and here I was, picking at him like a scab that had never healed. I couldn’t imagine never being able to choose one’s life purpose—my family was poor, but at least I’d been given that freedom.

“Is that why you visit your mother?” I wondered. “In Arizona, I mean. Do you pretend to have a different life there with her?”

Lucas went still, and I feared I’d overstepped.

He pushed a hand through his hair, spreading water through the short strands. “I—maybe.”

I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.

“She’s a watercolor artist—quite a good one, actually.” His voice was careful, controlled, like he was testing each word before he spoke it. “I only got to see her for a week every year after she left. Maybe a few weeks in the summer when I was in college. We were never completely close, but there’s a warmth between us. A kind of…realness, I suppose, that I don’t find many other places. Though I saw it tonight.”

“With my family?”

“Yes. I don’t think you know how rare that is. Everyone is pigeonholed by their families, but not everyone can be themselves with the people who raised them. You may have changed a bit, but it’s obvious that your family loves you for who you are. I doubt I could say the same about mine if I stopped writing checks for their yachts, clothes, and whatever else they spend all that money on. My mother, though…she never asks me for anything.” He tipped his head. “Sort of like you, actually.”

The honesty in his voice made my chest ache. How long had it been since Lucas had been able to just be himself? To exist without the weight of everyone else’s expectations?

“You were good with the girls,” I told him. “Xavier noticed too.”

“Would it shock you that I like children?”

“Honestly? A bit, yeah.”

“I always have.” He shrugged. “When Daniel was born, I was so fucking excited to have a little brother. Disappointed, of course, when I realized that a baby was terrible company, but even then, I was always happy to spend time with him.”

I snorted. “You didn’t realize that at eleven?”

He gave me a pointed look. “Eleven-year-olds are not known for their foresight. All I really knew was that I wouldn’t be alone anymore.”

The sad truth was an arrow through my heart. I wanted to climb into his lap like I had in Japan, guide his head to my shoulder, and kiss him until his sadness left.

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Not with me.

But that would be a lie, and Lucas wasn’t done telling stories.

“When I was in high school, I tutored to meet the community service requirements for graduation. I liked working with the little ones who were about Sofia’s age.”

The image made me smile: a lanky, teenage Lucas hunched over a copy ofPeter Rabbit, holding little boys or girls in his thrall.

“Why haven’t you gotten married and had kids, then? And don’t tell me it’s because you can’t find anyone special.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Do you want a family?”