Talia Nassar

Oh my God. That turned out way better than I expected.

I sip on a glass of Merlot as I wait for Matteo who's attending to things. When Lucas' gaze lands on me, I raise my glass to him from across the room. He playfully shakes his head and continues cleaning himself off while discussing something with his server.

My smile falters and I shift my gaze away. Maybe I went a little too far? When the thought came to me that afternoon after googling Tiffany Voss, the next thing I knew I was asking Imani to order something with fur. And then somehow a bikini was selected. And then soon after, Imani thought to put in a label that said the fake fur item was authenticated real fur, which made me consider giving her a raise on the spot.

I shouldn't be feeling guilty, but a part of me does feel a teensy bit bad about the wine splashing on him for the whole restaurant to see. Who knew Tiffany was that much of an activist?

But I have to be prepared for whatever retaliation Lucas is going to throw my way. The more I think about it, the more my chest tightens. God, four months of this back and forth is going to feel like a lifetime.

As I'm about to turn back to see what Lucas is doing now, a deep voice hits my eardrums and causes my stomach to flip. "Any other tricks up your sleeve tonight?" Lucas says brightly before taking a seat across from me. He boldly pours himself a glass of wine.

My stomach does a couple more somersaults as I see him up close. He has on a crisp suit. Despite the white wine stain on his button-down shirt, his strikingly blue eyes make it impossible to look elsewhere. I set my glass down and give him a mock glare. "That's Matteo's seat."

Lucas glances around with a touch of drama. "I think you might've scared him off," he says before taking a sip of wine and leaning back. "You know the goal is to get the client to feel comfortable around you. Not having them call their mom to say their last 'I love you's."

A chuckle escapes my traitorous mouth. "You're so dramatic."

"You know you could've just asked me to join you for dinner. You didn't have to go through this whole charade of getting Tiffany to leave." He smirks and my cheeks warm.

It must be the wine. I need to slow down and drink some water.

Before I can even think of a response, Lucas continues. "I mean, I would've said no, of course. But it would've been nice to hear you beg for my company."

"Oh? Is that right? You think I'd beg for your company?" I grin and swish the wine around in my glass before taking yet another sip. Slow down, girl.

"Among other things, yes," he says in a low, velvety voice as he leans forward with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Heat invades my body like wildfire. For a moment, I envision myself on my back begging Lucas to touch me. I cross my legs and chide myself for taking it there. This is Lucas after all. Flirting with him is as dangerous as a child playing with fire. But like a pendulum, my mind swings backward. I didn't take it there. Lucas did first. Right?

Note to self: never drink wine again.

"You alright there?" Lucas asks with a cocky grin.

I shake my head before quickly nodding. I feel flustered and confused as to why my mind decided to debut an R-rated movie starring Lucas Handler and myself. Is this Lucas' doing or not? Get it together, Talia. This is Lucas. The Ass Lucas.

"Begging is not really my thing." I purse my lips which catches Lucas' attention.

"No, it certainly is not," he says as his eyes come back up to meet mine. He sits back in his seat with a contemplative expression.

For a moment, we both just sit here, maintaining eye contact and not saying anything. There is undoubtedly something charged between us. Some strange electric current is pulling me in. It's the same feeling I experienced the first night I met Lucas back at Harvard. While I was dating my ex-boyfriend Gary at the time, there's something about that night, specifically the time he and I talked, that always stuck with me.

My server swings by and lets me know that Matteo isn't going to be able to join me after all, but the meal is on the house.

"Oh, wonderful." Lucas smiles and glances at the server. "Can we add some of those calamari rings to the order? Actually whatever the chef recommends is great." He jerks his head as if he just remembered a very important detail. "And by any chance did Matteo need to call his mom?"

I scrunch my nose, trying to hold back my laugh, and lightly kicked Lucas under the table. He lets out an "Ow" and leans down for his shin before I let the server know that's all.

"I don't recall saying you could join me for dinner," I say with playful exasperation.

"But you kind of did. Remember the whole Tiffany thing and you secretly wanting my company?"

I shake my head and laugh. "Oh my God, get over yourself. I think we'll be spending enough time together over the next four months."

"Well, it's been two days and we haven't killed each other yet. I'd say that's a good sign and we're crushing this whole co-presidency thing."

"Don't speak too soon."

Our server places a bread basket before us. "More wine?" he asks.

"Yes," Lucas says just as I say, "No." The server looks toward Lucas and nods before seemingly off to get another bottle of wine.

I sigh and call out to the server before he can get too far, "Slightly chilled, please."

Lucas' lips quirk a little before he shakes his head. "I just think it's important to get to know each other a bit more since we'll be working together so much. Don't you think?" he says while grabbing a piece of bread and buttering it up.

"Oh please. I already know everything I need to know about you."

"Tell me then. What do you know about me?" He leans forward and tilts his head to the side. His freckles are more visible up close.

"Hmm. What do I know about Lucas Handler?" I pause, mentally picking up The Lucas File, which has 'Do Not Open' postings all over it. "For starters, you live and breathe golf."

"Well, I don't know about that. It's more of a hobby than an obsession," Lucas adds before I can continue.

"What else? Hmmm." My mind dusts off another sheet in the file. "You're wealthy and you've been wealthy your whole life."

"I mean no objections there." His shoulders perk up to reach his ears briefly and he smiles. "But why do you say it like it's a bad thing? Aren't you rich too?"

"Yeah, but not that rich. You're like rich rich."

"I didn't realize you were keeping tabs on my financial status."

"Someone has to. Don't forget I've seen the way you spend your money. That extra guac is no joke." I smile widely as Lucas starts laughing.

"Alright, what else?"

"Hmm. You're stubborn."

"So are you and don't you even deny it." He squints in a mock challenge.

"You're self-obsessed."

"All I hear is you describing yourself."

"And everything you've ever gotten has been handed to you on a silver platter."

He makes a face and tilts his head back. "What the hell? Who told you that?"

A coil starts to wrap itself around my lungs. A part of me can't believe I said that out loud. It's always been something I thought but never actually vocalized. "No one told me. I just, I mean can you blame me for thinking that? You're Lucas Handler," I say with emphasis on his last name. "You work at Handler Finances. It just seems like dad Charles gave his son what he wanted." Wow, Talia. You are digging yourself deeper here.

A tight line appears over Lucas' mouth and a deep crevice between his brows. "Is that really what you think?"

The seriousness in his expression make doubts flutter across my mind. "Can you blame me for thinking that?" The words are sharp against my tongue like I accidentally sprayed perfume in my mouth.

When he doesn't respond, my mind spins. Did that hurt him? I grimace and instinctively reach for his hand on the table. I didn't anticipate my mind to focus on the touchpoint and for it to feel like fire against my skin, but I keep my hand there regardless. "Hold up. Why are you upset? We've been saying stuff like that to each other for years."

Lucas remains seated and sighs, not moving his hand from where I grabbed onto it. "Yeah, I know. I just. It just feels different now."

Even though I asked the question, Lucas' answer aligns exactly with what I'm feeling. Something does feel different. "Okay. Tell me to go to hell. Tell me how I have it all wrong. Yell at me. Do something other than look like a dejected puppy." I'd rather face a thousand yelling Lucases than have to witness myself causing Lucas to feel whatever this is.

The corner of Lucas' mouth tilts up and a light flickers across his gaze. "Are you going to start begging me for it?"

I scoff and quickly pick my hand up, feeling instant coldness as well as relief from the overwhelmingly mind-grabbing contact. "You ass."

While Lucas smiles at my response, it doesn't reach his eyes. I remain quiet, mentally begging him to say something. When he clears his throat and shifts in his seat, my senses heighten.

"I see how it looks. Rich kid gets handed a job by his rich dad. But that couldn't be further from the truth." He pauses, and I nod slightly, hoping it prompts him to continue. "My dad didn't actually want me for the job of president. He always said he didn't think I had what it took. But I worked damn hard to get to where I am and proved not only to him but to the board that I deserved that position."

My heart sinks. I was so quick to assume the worst. Guilt is starting to eat at me like a virus. Lucas didn't assume the worst with the rumors surrounding me, why didn't I do the same? "What about now? Does he want you for the CEO position?"

Lucas nods, deep in thought. "It's complicated. Lately, he's been more and more supportive about things and he's said he thinks I can do it, but there's always a catch to it. I have no idea what he's planning but I honestly don't give a fuck anymore."

A range of emotions swirl through my chest. Maybe I don't know Lucas at all like I thought I did? My head spins. All of it's too confusing to process right now. I tuck the new info into The Lucas File and store it back into my mental filing cabinet, toward the back. I shift in my seat and lift my glass. "Well, cheers to learning new things."

Lucas smiles and clinks his glass against mine. "Don't think this means that I won't be getting you back for that fur stunt."

"I'd never dream of it."