Page 50 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
Chapter 17
She kisses me and holds me and I try to loosen up. She mistakes my tension for concern about my father and though that worry is present, underlying everything like cement weighing me down, I’m ashamed at how deeply buried it is under my concern about her, and us.
Do I tell her now, tonight, before we leave for Italy?
Once we get there it’ll be too late. It will be obvious who I am.
As I hold her in my arms, running my hands along her back, soaking in the feel and comfort of her scent, her skin, her substance, I realize I have no choice. It’s not easy, but I let go of her.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll book the tickets now.” She sits down on the couch and starts tapping on her phone in quick precise movements, then she stops and looks up at me.
“I need to know your last name.” She laughs. The absurdity hits me. It’s as simple and as practical as that. Taking a deep breath, I tell her.
“My last name is Fierro.” I wait.
She says, “Like the car?” She’s back to concentrating on her phone and continues the efficient tapping with her thumbs.
This is the moment, the exact moment that I should say something. Sucking up all the apprehension I hadn’t realized I was carrying, I tell her.
“Yes. In fact, my family is the Fierro Motor Company.”
“Aha. Wait—what?” She looks up at me again, distracted.
My answer is a small smile and a nod because I’m not sure I can say it twice. It feels stupid, like a silly worry, like I’ve been hiding a great big secret of little consequence.
“Did you say that your familyisthe Fierro family? Your familyownsthe Fierro car company?” The rise in her voice would be comical if I wasn’t starting to tense up now.
Making myself own up, I say with a firmness that would make my father proud, “Yes.”
The phone falls from her hand and clatters to the floor as she stands. She looks puzzled and uncertain, confused. She comes to me. I stand and rest my hands on her shoulders, keeping her from my embrace.
“But,” she waves her hands, “but I don’t get it. Why did I not know this? How—why would you not say? And why the hell are you driving for Uber if your family owns the f—cking Fierro car company? That’s just wrong on so many levels.”
Letting out the sigh first, before I try and explain things to her, explain things tomyself, a smile comes from realizing she’s focused on the practical before all else and I’m grateful she’s not feeling the distrust or betrayal that I’m worried she’ll feel.
“I told you I had a disagreement with my father, that I declined to go into the family business.”
“But even so.” Her words are soft. She puts her hands on my chest and eases one hand up to caress my jaw. If I didn’t guard against it, I’d choke up again, but I can’t. I can’t think about my decisions now. To spite me, my mind refuses to budge from thought about the rift between me and my father. It’s easy to see now that it was all on me, that I caused the rift with my youthful arrogance pushing against his paternal authority.
But I don’t feel young or arrogant now. All I feel is worried and she must see it on my face.
“What is it? Don’t think negative thoughts,” she says like she’s my second-grade teacher. And, so help me, it makes me hot to hear her scolding pep talk. Finally, shutting out the worry, I pull her in tight against me.
She persists, “Your family has money, don’t they?”
I nod.
“I told you my father said if I didn’t major in engineering he wouldn’t pay for college.” If I was confessing things, I needed to confess all. “I refused his money after that. I knew he hadn’t meant it, knew my mother would never let him get away with it, but I was—am—stubborn.”
She looked up at me with a grin. “You mean you’re proud? You let your pride get in the way?”
I laughed. I had accused her of having too much pride. More than once.
“Touché. Guess it takes one to know one.” Pulling her back in tight, holding her again, feeling her against me, I feel the moments between us ticking away and wonder if this is all there is to it. Was I wrong about Melissa? Was I worried for no reason about her reaction to me keeping my identity a secret? I had been convinced she would be angry.
I wonder if there will be repercussions to revealing my family name and wealth and legacy to her so late, too long after I knew I should have. Maybe there’ll be anger yet. Holding it secret out of misguided rebellion had become a habit. Till now, there had never been anyone worth mentioning it to. Except Melissa. It’s not been a secret only from Melissa. I’ve lived my life in New York City these past years as an anonymous student, someone with no money. It was what I wanted. The secret seems unimportant now, beside the point. So what if I’m a Fierro, eldest son of the proud Fierro Automotive family?
Looking back, I wouldn’t have done it differently. I was comfortable in my anonymity, enjoying the low-rent lifestyle. Up until the moment I met Melissa. Only a week ago.
