“No…I dated someone for a few months after her.” I stiffen, not expecting his answer. Had I thought I was the first person to spend my nights with him? As if interrupting my silence correctly, he continues. “It was nothing serious. I needed a date for different events and Laurie needed…financial assistance.”
“Oh. My. God,” I stammer, as I turn to stare at him. “Why does this sound so familiar?”
Lucian stops abruptly, pulling me from the traffic on the sidewalk. “This probably isn’t the best place to talk about this, but I don’t want you stewing all the way home. Trust me; there are no similarities between you and Laurie. She was a spoiled socialite I met at a party. At the time, I had just made the grave mistake of sleeping with Monique and couldn’t get her to leave me the hell alone. Laurie served that purpose. She had expensive taste that she couldn’t afford on the allowance her father had put her on. I helped her out with that, and she gave me the illusion of a relationship to hold Monique at bay.”
“What happened to Laurie?” I look around almost as if expecting to see her standing behind me. Dear Lord, surely she isn’t still in his life; that would be more than I could bear.
“Things are finished with her and were before you and I met. She…wanted more and I didn’t.” A sudden chill runs up my spine that has nothing to do with the nighttime air. Lucian, feeling my shiver, tucks me back under his arm. “You’re cold. Let’s go home; we can talk there.”
I let him lead me to the apartment, an uncomfortable silence falling between us. My place in his life seems fragile and uncertain. I feel silly that I have even imagined for one moment that Lucian could feel for me the way I feel for him. I am an inexperienced, unsophisticated college student, and he is a rich, successful businessman. What could he possibly see in me? Am I just another way to keep women like Monique from throwing themselves at him? I walk to the kitchen for a bottle of water as he fixes himself a drink. “Can I get you anything?” I ask from the doorway.
“No, baby.” He settles on the couch and pats the place next to him. I really want to make an excuse to go lick my wounds in another room, but I know it’s childish. If I want Lucian to see me as a mature adult, then I need to act like one. Do I want him to regret opening up to me no matter how much I hated his answer? I sit next to him, playing nervously with the cap on the water bottle. “I can practically hear your mind spinning from here, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I wish I could just shut my mind down for the evening and take everything he has said in stride, but the questions loom. “When you said Laurie wanted more, what did you mean? Like marriage?”
Lucian doesn’t seem surprised that I have returned to our original conversation; he almost seems to be expecting it. “Eventually, I’m sure that was her goal. She wanted access to more of my life, such as my homes.”
“She wanted to live with you? That would make sense.”
“No, baby, she wanted to see my homes, spend the night here. Laurie was never in this apartment or my house. She was in my apartment at the office a few times while I was changing for an event, but that’s it.”
I am completely blown away by his statement. How could he have dated someone for months and never had her here? Of course, would I be here now if not for the fact that I had first walked through the door as his cleaning lady? I am certain the confusion I’m feeling must be apparent in my voice as I say, “That seems strange to me. Didn’t you spend the night together…at least some of the time?” I can tell Lucian is getting tired of my twenty questions, but he continues to answer patiently.
“We dated…we had sex at her place, but I didn’t spend the night, nor did she spend the night with me…at any time. Lia, you know what happens sometimes when I sleep. I never wanted anyone to witness my…nightmares, so I avoided that risk.”
Swallowing around the lump that seems to be wedged in my throat, I ask the one question I need to know, regardless of how badly his answer could hurt me. “What about me? Would I be here if I hadn’t forced the cleaning issue?”
He takes his time, not jumping to put my jumble of insecurities to rest. Finally, as my nerves are screaming, he says, “Maybe not as quickly as your first trip, but yes, I feel certain we would have ended up exactly where we are now.” He stares at the strand of my hair he’s twirling around his finger as if captivated. “From the moment we met, I have been helpless to stay away, even though I should. There is just something about you that draws me in, makes me want to believe in things that scare the hell out of me.”
I reach up, cupping his face in my hands and looking into his tormented eyes. “What’s wrong with believing in something, Luc?”