Page 118 of A Win-Win Situation
"I think I’m falling in love with you," I blurt out the words that have been haunting me for a long time, not expecting a response.
"I’m falling in love with you, too."
FORTY-ONE
LUCAS
"Where the hell have you been?" Liam spots us as soon as we sneak back to the party—apparently, we’re not discreet at all. "And why does your hair look like that?" he continues, and then he peeks at Leora. "You too? Why is it all tousled? It almost looks like you’ve just—" He laughs but when he notices the red hue creeping up Leora’s neck, understanding settles in and he looks back at me.
"Really? You just had to sneak away like two horny teenagers this evening?"
Leora is biting her lip, holding back laughter while her face is red as a tomato and I just shrug. "Stop acting jealous. When and what we do is none of your business, brother. Now, where’sAmmo?"
"He came a few minutes ago. He’s by the pictures. But please fix your hair before you go up to him. He’s already stressed enough, he doesn’t have to look at your sex-hair."
I rake a hand through my hair, trying to smooth back the locks and Leora does the same, combing her fingers through her beautiful waves that were wrapped around my fist a few minutes ago.
The way she took control just now might have been the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Little did I know that beneath her poised exterior, a fiery vixen resided. Seeing her confident and bold like that would have brought me to my knees if she hadn’t asked to taste me first, and what a taste it was.
I look at her, and when our eyes meet, there’s a particular gleam in them that makes me sure she’s thinking the same thing as me.
"Do you want me to hold your hand and take you to him?" Liam says with a mocking tone and I just shake my head at the smugness on his face.
"Let’s go." My hand reaches for Leora and we walk to meet my uncle standing in front of Leora’s picture wall. I haven’t seen it yet. She showed me some of the photos she found when she was planning this whole thing but seeing this live is something completely different. Seeing my uncle’s eyes light up with gratefulness and nostalgia as he gazes at the pictures—it's as if a bridge between the past and present has been built right here in this room.
He feels our presence and turns around, moving slower than he usually does. He greets us both and then he turns to Leora, a tear glistening in his eye. "You have given me a gift beyond measure, my dear. To see these memories come to life again, to feel their warmth once more. I cannot thank you enough."
Leora's smile mirrors the mistiness in her eyes. "It was an honor, Antoine. These memories deserve to be cherished."
We all continue to gaze at the photos as he points to them, sharing stories of his old friends and the little village where he grew up. When he reaches a particular photo, he pauses, his voice quivering with emotion. It's a picture that I've come to know well, but today, it takes on a new significance as I see it through his eyes.
"That's me and . . ." Antoine pauses, his voice nearly breaking.
His eyes linger on the image, and I gently complete his sentence, "You and Mum."
A wistful sigh escapes his lips, and he nods, the tears welling up but not spilling over.
"I miss her."
"I miss her, too," I reply softly, my own emotions bubbling to the surface.
Leora leans into me, squeezing my hand. "She’s beautiful."
My uncle smiles. "She was, indeed."
He clears his throat, "Lucas, I want to talk to you before the?—"
"Antoine," Michel greets, his tone lacking genuine warmth. My uncle is interrupted and the tranquility is shattered by Michel, accompanied by Melina. She walks up to us with an air of entitlement, and her disruptive entrance draws our attention.
He responds politely, although his face remains devoid of emotion, "Michel."
"You look tired. Are you sure you’re up for this tonight?" I can feel a nerve starting to twitch in my jaw, almost making me lash out at Michel. I'm still not over how he treated Leora during the brunch, and one misstep from him might just earn him a bruise or two. Which will not bode well for the meeting we’ll be having tonight.
Tonight is the night when the crucial vote takes place, determining whether I'll take over after my uncle or if they'll elect someone else to fill the seat. My palms are clammy as I glance around the terrace at the faces of the stakeholders—they hold our future in their hands. The anticipation hangs heavily in the air, and I can't help but feel a nervous knot tightening in my stomach. From my end, I truly believe they’ve been happy with how I’ve taken care of the company by my uncle’s side. I’veencouraged many changes and I was the reason for us starting to branch out, well, outside of Europe. It should be enough for them to see the potential in me. If they don’t, I’m not sure I’ll know what to do.
Leora has been a sweetheart this past week, she seems even more nervous than I am. She's been acting in the most endearing ways, trying to alleviate my own anxiety, though her own nerves were palpable beneath her composed exterior. She'd surprise me with my breakfast in bed and by leaving small notes all over the apartment. With her I can be honest, and I can tell her about the fear I have of losing, but here, in front of my uncle and Michel, I can't afford to show weakness. Not when the future of the company, my uncle's legacy, and my own destiny hang in the air. I know Michel has never liked us but I’m afraid he’s used his poisonous tongue to get the other stakeholders on his side.
"Don’t you worry about me. I’m feeling great," he answers.
