Page 3 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
If I were going to contemplate an affair—and I wasn’t—it would have to be strategic, with a successful businessman, preferably a banker or hedge fund manager.
I sat in the front with Mr. Hunk as if we were best pals and he was giving me a ride. Not so bad playing poor so far. Until he spoke inside the confines of the car. There was something about the timbre of his voice, the deep, rough vibration that had a hint of melodic vulnerability. It set me on edge, made me tingle with . . . something I’d never felt. It went way past the salivating stage, whatever this chemistry was.
“Where are you going tonight?” He said.
I looked at him and he flashed a brilliant white smile, his lips lush and inviting, almost girly in their plumpness. But there was nothing girly about his strong square chin. As I stared, the smile reached his bright-blue eyes, causing crinkles in the corners as if he could read my mind and it was some kind of amusement for him to turn on his female passengers.
But for whatever reason, I wasn’t amused and I wasn’t afraid of him. I was, however, intrigued by my crazy sexed-up reaction to him as we sat at the curb, the car idling.
“I really need to know where we’re going. I don’t want to wait here too long or the doorman will talk.” His smile changed to a grin, possibly a suggestive grin. I never blushed. Not ever. But at that moment I could feel some heat turning my face into a fireball.
Tamping it down, I ordered myself to get a grip. I knew how to be cold. Calculating. Strategic. Prepared. An extreme planner. The girl who outshone the boy scouts at their own game. I’d always competed and won against men in whatever game had been reserved for men. Until recently. Until I’d put my trust in those damn lawyers.
But what the hell does that have to do with riding with a hot Uber driver, Melissa? Have you no heart?
I decided to give the cold, calculating Melissa the night off.
“Nine sixty Fifth Avenue.” I smiled, giving reign to my natural reflex in the company of a handsome young man, even a lowly Uber driver. I knew I had a fetching smile with a dimple on one side and shiny white teeth and wondered if he felt the same reaction.
He raised a brow.
“Overlooking the sailboat pond in Central Park. Very upscale. Moving?”
“I wish.” I burped out the words in a spasm of total honesty, in a complete lack of guile, strategy, or planning.Who was I? Maybe I needed the cold, calculating Melissa back.
“Then what?”
“Visiting my more fortunate friends.” I tried the poor-girl persona on for size. May as well get used to it, right?
He scoffed. “Your address isn’t exactly anunfortunateone.”
“Alas, I no longer have the good fortune to live there. Moved out. Today. I’ve lost everything. My business and all my possessions except what’s in those three bags.” A weight I hadn’t even realized was there vanished from my chest and I automatically expanded my lungs to full force. Did the sky look brighter, the colors more vivid? Or was I hallucinating or suffering a nervous breakdown?
Funny thing was, I felt not one single nerve in my body. No anxiety. It disappeared in this magical little pseudo-Fiat driven by the ludicrously sexy Uber driver. Or maybe it was my reaction to him that was ludicrous.
Since when are you given to fantasy, Melissa?
Since I lost everything else in my life that had any meaning and fantasies are all I seem to have left.
“Sorry to hear it.”
“You don’t sound sorry.”
“Maybe I think you still have far more than you’ve lost.”
His words felt like a slap to my soul. A ghostly version of a bracing slap to my face.
Who is this man and who the hell did he think he was?
