chardonnay. I relax slightly, realizing he’s letting me off the hook. Thank God. He’s definitely not buying my lie, though, and for some reason he seems content on letting me get away with it. For now.
A feeling of relief flows through me when the waiter returns with our food balanced in each hand. My stomach quietly rumbles as the rich aroma fills my nostrils and he sets the plates down in front of us.
“Anything else, sir?” the waiter asks.
“No, thank you,” Lucian’s quick to reply.
“Enjoy,” he says. And with a flash of a smile, the waiter’s gone.
Grabbing my heavy fork, I take a bite of the tender meat dipped in sauce, and my eyes widen as the sweet tangy flavor fills my mouth. Damn. Lucian is right.
“This is delicious,” I remark, waiting for Lucian’s gaze to meet mine. “Thank you.” I hope he knows how serious I am.
Lucian grins. “I knew you would like it,” he says confidently.
“So how did you become the CEO of your company?” I ask after a few more delicious bites. Having read the article about his rise to success, I pretty much know what Lucian is going to say, but I’d like to hear him tell it. I figure now is a good time as ever to hopefully turn this date around and focus on something that will lighten the mood.
Lucian eyes me. “How did you know I was CEO? Much less own my own company?” There’s a bit of humor in his voice. I’m sure he knows I cyberstalked him.
I freeze mid-bite, my mind racing with an explanation other than the obvious. Fuck. Lucian never told me what he did, and I never asked. Nor was there any mention of his occupation in the contract. I open my mouth to say, “I just assumed that,” but then snap my lips shut, feeling a bite of shame. It’s one thing to tell a lie because you’re hiding something too personal to share, it’s another to tell one to cover something harmless.
A blush reddening my cheeks, I sheepishly admit, “I looked you up on the net.”
I brace myself, half expecting Lucian to go into a rage for my intrusion on his privacy, but he just chuckles. “I was sure you had, my sweet treasure,” he says. “I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes. Hell, it’s the smart thing to do. I would never advise anyone to enter into a contract with a stranger without knowing something about them, especially someone you’d be entrusting with your safety.”
I’m relieved that Lucian hasn’t taken offense to my prying. For some reason, I keep waiting for him to punish me for any blunders. It’s like the line is blurring between Dom Lucian and real Lucian. I don’t know which one I’m talking to. “One thing the articles I read kept going on about was how young you were to head a successful startup,” I add. “That’s impressive.”
Lucian nods. “I had some help from a friend. He’s a silent partner now.”
“What about your family?” I ask. “Did you come from,” I wave my hand in the direction of the other guests, “this?” I don’t know how to word it.
“No,” Lucian says simply. “I’m from a blue collar family.” The ease in his voice is gone, and I can tell I’ve struck a nerve. “They’re dead to me now,” he says quietly.
I sit there awkwardly, frustrated that we somehow keep making each other upset, but not quite knowing what to do. The anger in Lucian’s voice... it’s raw. There’s pain there. And pain is an emotion I’m well accustomed to.
Moved by emotion and instinct, I swallow back a lump in my throat, and reach over and place my hand atop of his. His gaze drops to where our hands are joined, and my heartbeat slows. For an instant, I fear I’ve crossed the line. But he surprises me by giving me a glimpse of a smile and running his thumb gently over the back of my hand.
I tell him softly, my voice filled with empathy, my eyes finding his, “Sometimes family can do you worse than a person on the street would.”
Trust me, I should know, I think to myself as those dark images threaten to come back. Nausea twists my stomach, and I’m angry at myself for even thinking about them right now.
My words seem to have a profound effect on Lucian because he visibly relaxes in his chair. “Thank you,” he says warmly to me. He