Page 67 of Boss of the Year
“But we’re not done with this conversa?—”
I ended the call before she could continue.
I haddinner laid out just as Lucas walked into the dining room right at 7:10, just like always. I was particularly proud of this meal, which included a tuna tartare appetizer, a main course of crisped duck magret in a guava-red wine reduction with farofa and sautéed collards, followed by mango macarons for dessert.
Lucas paused in the doorway, his gaze flicking over the spread. He looked tired. There were lines around his eyes Ihadn’t noticed before, and his tie was hanging undone around his neck.
Tired, yes. But also as edible as anything on the table.
I shook the thought away.
“Thank fucking God,” he declared as he eased into his chair. “I haven’t had a decent thing to eat all day.”
I slid into my seat without being asked. Every night, Lucas had insisted I join him for dinner, and I found I enjoyed our nightly ritual of simple conversation. The second night, he’d told me a story about his first year at boarding school, when he was hazed by upperclassmen so much he slept under his bed for a week just so they couldn’t kidnap him for pranks. I recognized it for the trade it was—a way to show me that in some ways, I wasn’t alone in my anxiety.
The next few nights had progressed similarly. We swapped stories or facts about our very different childhoods, but somehow managed to find more in common than I would have imagined. Both of us found the news stressful, though Lucas was forced to stay on top of current events for his job. Both of us struggled with our siblings making idiotic decisions and waiting for us to clean them up. And both of us prized peace above all else.
Lucas had a thing for sunrises, borrowed from the week he spent each year with his mother in Arizona. Even now, he got up most days to watch them for the same reason that I was happy to take on the breakfast shift at Prideview, even when I was eighteen. It was the most tranquil time of day.
“I thought you were going to a fancy restaurant today for lunch.” I hadn’t packed him anything for that reason.
“The restaurant was a tourist sand trap. The potatoes tasted like freezer burn, and I’m pretty sure the meat was four days old.” He swallowed his tuna tartare in two bites, moaning around the flavor in a way that I found very distracting. “God,that’s good. This is exactly why I needed you to come. Did you send some down to Robbie?”
I nodded. “He usually eats the first draft.”
“Lucky bastard. If I could get home before seven, I’d join him.”
We ate in companionable silence for a few more minutes.
“So, what did you do today? Make it to that flea market Robbie found?”
The question was casual, but something in his tone made me shift in my chair. “Oh, no. I was too busy with meal prep. Plan out the rest the menus for our time here. Reorganize the pantry. You know.”
I had done these things; it was true. I’d also caught up on my favorite Netflix shows and had gotten far too sucked into the newest season ofLove is Blind.
Lucas’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “You stayed in all day again?”
“Like I said, I had plenty to keep me busy?—”
“Marie.” He set down the fork, though not without a longing glance at the duck speared on the tines. “It’s Saturday. You’ve been here five days, and the farthest you’ve gone is the market with Robbie.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I told you, I’m fine. I don’t need?—”
“You know what?” Lucas set down his napkin. “Let’s eat this delicious meal you made for us in the park.”
I blinked. He said “us.” Not “me.” “What?”
“A picnic. In the park.” He was already gathering his plate and cutlery. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Lucas, that’s—we can’t just—the food will get cold, and I don’t have anything to pack it in, and?—”
“Then we’ll eat first and go for a walk after.” There was something in his expression I hadn’t seen before. A differentshade of determination, maybe. Or concern. “You deserve to get out. I’ll take you. Just like Louis did in Paris.”
The reference to my friend caught me off guard. That Lucas remembered, that he understood why I had needed Louis. His sincerity disintegrated my resolve.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. “A walk. After dinner.”
“With me,” Lucas agreed, then went back to devouring his food.
