Page 89 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“I found a showroom with offices above in a high-value location. And I’m in the process of hiring staff. There’s a lot to do before I go home to Italy in two weeks.”
“Is your father still doing well?” Margo asks.
Lucas aims one of those kindly, appreciative smiles at her. “He’s very well, thank you. I’m going home to take care of business for the Campionato Italiano GT in Monza.” He puts down his fork and looks at me. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a face-to-face meeting with my father. We’ve been Skyping at night a few times a week. When I’m not out gallivanting with Melissa.”
He tosses me a wink. One of those knowing winks that makes me sizzle like water drops on a hot pan.
“Speaking of gallivanting, I guess it went okay with your parents?” Margo says to me.
“As well as can be expected. They’re not thrilled, but they’re understanding. My father thinks we’ll never find them.” I’m glossing over because I don’t want to ruin dinner.
“I’m betting he’s wrong,” Lucas says.
Margo holds my hand and says, “I hope you do find them. Your parents will be fine. It’s not like you’re going to suddenly start up a relationship with these people.” She pauses, turns pink and asks, “Is it?”
“No. I have no intention of doing that. I just want to know who they are, what kind of people they are, and ask them why they gave me up.” I sigh. It seems so simple, and yet it seems as far away as asking for the answers to the mysteries of the universe.
“The wine is excellent,” Lucas says. “I notice you’re not drinking any tonight,” he looks at Margo.
As she lifts her glass of ginger ale to her lips, Margo announces to Lucas that she’s trying to get pregnant. A discussion of having babies and families ensues.
“I’d like three or four children, I think,” Margo says, aiming a cheeky smile at George.
“The more the merrier, as far as I’m concerned,” George says, mostly to Margo. “We have so much to give, it would almost be a sin not to have a passel of kids.”
I hold my tongue when Margo turns to me, but not so for Lucas.
He says, “I’m with you George. I want all the bambini I can manage and I expect that would be many, maybe up to a dozen.” He grins and turns to me with a flick of his eyebrow.
I nearly spit out my water. This is so awkward on at least two levels. First, Lucas and I aren’t even close to the let’s-get-married-and-have-babies stage. For pity’s sake, I can’t even commit to spending the night with him half the time. But that doesn’t bother Margo and George as they laugh along and look at me expectantly.
Second problem with this line of conversation is that I’m not at all sure about having babies. I’ve never seriously considered the whole kid thing. Having children has been one of those abstract future possibilities that almost seems like it’ll happen in some other lifetime. Not something that computes right now. But they’re all looking at me as if my response should be automatic and in the affirmative.
Of course, there’s a third layer to the notion of having babies that troubles me. It has to do with the fact that my own birth mother gave me up. The idea that she could do that frightens me.
What if I’m like her?
As I put down my glass and rummage frantically through my brain for a response that won’t ruin the night or commit me to having a dozen children, I get a pass.
George being George, he rescues from having to say anything with a charming observation about how most professional women wait until their thirties to have children these days. I blink and send him my deepest gratitude with a heartfelt smile and a telepathic hug.
“I’m sure I’m in that camp. The whole baby thing is in the future for me.” I give a sideways glance to Lucas. He’s still smiling and covers my hand with his. If I’d been brutally honest, I’d have said it was alongway into the future, but I need to make some concession for the sake of peace.
George closes the subject with his next question, cementing my loyalty to him forever, second only to Margo. And Lucas.
“You still living in Brooklyn?” he says to Lucas.
“Not for long,” Lucas says, darting me another look. “I found a new apartment in a doorman building in an excellent part of town not too far from here. I haven’t signed the lease yet, though.” He turns to me fully and says, “I want you to see it first.”
I nod. A little nervous excitement runs through me and I remember my vow to spend the night with him more often. It’ll be much nicer in a brand-new upgraded apartment close by.
“Sounds great. When did you have in mind?”
“Saturday. I’ll need to sign the lease as soon as possible before it gets snatched up by someone else.”
“Does it have a view?” Margo asks.
“I’m not sure,” he says, abashed. “I actually haven’t seen it myself. The realtor described it and it sounds like exactly what I need.” He looks at me with a devilish half grin, his dimple a shadow in the candlelight.
“Let’s do it tomorrow, Saturday. Ten a.m.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says and salutes me. Too late for me to be annoyed by the mocking since I’ve been getting it all my life. Hazard of being Type A. I tend to take charge.
“Sorry—whenever you can get the appointment will work. I have a few business calls, but otherwise, I’m yours all day.” I let the reality of my words zip through me, leaving me warm then hot and imagining all sorts of things. I’m afraid it shows on my face.
Lucas lifts one brow a millimeter. George clears his throat. Margo giggles.
