His Absolute Proposal: An Illicit Billionaire Love Story (Elise, #3) (17 page)

"You, shut up!" I shouted at Lucent's father.  "How can you say that to him?  If you think that's all that Lucent is, if you think that's the only important part about him, then you obviously don't know him.  I don't know how someone can be so rude and awful when they live in such a beautiful place like this.  I suppose you really can't judge a book by its cover, now can you?"

Both of them stared at me.  Both of them had their mouths agape.  I didn't care.  I stood tall, too.  I could be strong!  I could be commanding and demanding and dominant in my own right.  I mean, yes, I liked to be submissive with Lucent, and I liked when he spanked me and tied me up and told me exactly what he wanted me to do and what he was going to do to me, but...

This wasn't that.  This would never be that.  I wouldn't let anyone badmouth Lucent like that, least of all his own father.  And what had Lucent even done?  He'd bought them this lovely house!  He never told me about that, but it wasn't like he had to.  His father said it, and so it must be true, and...

Lucent's father bristled, practically sneering at me.  "Who the hell is this girl?"

"Father," Lucent said.  "As I was saying earlier, this is Elise Tanner.  She's my soulmate."

A
fter that, things went from mostly bad to mostly worse.  Not in a directly confrontational way, though, oh, no.  Lucent's father muttered and mumbled to himself, berating Lucent for his idiocy under his breath.  Lucent did somewhat of the same for a moment.  The odd part was they didn't bother to really yell or scream or argue.  Everything seemed confined to a few words at a time, curt, back and forth, almost courteous except for the obvious animosity between them.

And then, well...

"Come," Lucent said to me.  "Let's go inside, Miss Tanner.  We've both had a long day."  To his father, he added with more than a bit of an acidic sting, "Thank you, father, for greeting us so kindly and welcoming us into your home."

"I should call the police," Lucent's father said.  "Don't tempt me, Lucent."

"You won't," Lucent said.  Just that, nothing more.

I wasn't sure if I should go with Lucent, or stay with his father and try to calm things down, or maybe leave entirely?  Except where would I go if I left?  And what would I do if I stayed outside?  To be fair, I didn't even know what I was going to do if I went inside, either.

I followed after Lucent as he walked around the side of the house to the front.  The door had an electronic keypad for entry, and Lucent typed in a code to unlock the door, then stepped inside.  I went in at his urging, but stopped to gape as soon as I stepped inside.

While the outside of the house looked something like a fancy version of a log cabin, the inside was... well, I supposed it could be a fancy version of a log cabin in some ways, or just a fancy version of anything, really.

A chandelier hung high up on the ceiling in a room just past the foyer, with a long dining table taking up half the space beneath it.  Intricate wooden chairs stood next to the table, waiting for someone to decide to take a seat.  Just before the dining room and right after the foyer were a set of hallways, as well, one to the right and the other to the left.  Branching off from the left hallway was a set of stairs leading upwards.  And far past the dining hall, through an open doorway, stood the kitchen.

"Your shoes," Lucent said to me while taking his own off.  He stepped out of them and bent to pick them up, placing them in a shoe cubby system to the right.  It reminded me of the office mailboxes we had at Landseer Tower, for dealing with less urgent business details, except obviously these were for shoes.

I stepped out of my shoes and placed them in an empty cubby.

"I apologize for what happened outside," Lucent said.  "I admit that I suspected something like that would occur, but I wasn't entirely certain."

"I didn't know," I said.  "I didn't know that you and your father didn't get along."

"We get along fine," Lucent said.  "Generally speaking."

"Lucent, that didn't seem like the sort of conversation two people have when they get along fine."

"We get along fine because we don't speak to one another.  I allow him to do as he wishes, and he allows me to do the same.  Or, I should say, that's how it often is.  Our usual exchanges happen via email or some other secondary method.  We tend not to have a good repertoire with one another when meeting face to face."

"I'm not sure that's how I'd explain what just happened, but if you say so," I said.

"I do," Lucent said, staunch.  Then, moving to face me more directly, he smiled.  "You have nothing to worry about.  We'll be fine here.  We won't stay long, and then we'll be off and away."

Yes, I thought, perhaps, but that didn't mean that everything would be fine forever.  Even disregarding our current odd predicament, I disliked the idea of Lucent arguing with his father.  Why, though?  It wasn't any of my business, was it?  No, not quite, but something bothered me about it, and I didn't quite know what.  It wasn't the mild threat of him calling the police, but something more.  The talk of rumors, of me being just another of Lucent's girls, and the connotations therein.  I didn't know what to make of it all.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to be incredibly anticlimactic at the moment, Miss Tanner.  It's been a rough day and we've had a long drive.  I'm going to lay down for awhile.  Care to join me?"

I smiled.  "Sure."

At that, Lucent brought me to a door that looked like it belonged to a closet.  Except, no, it was a basement door, with plush, carpeted stairs winding downwards.  He flicked a light switch to the side and moved to take my hand, guiding me down into his secret dungeon hideaway.  That's how I liked to think of it, at least.  In truth, it was, um... well, it looked like an apartment building all its own and not a basement of any sort.

In the middle of the immediate room was a pool table, with a bar countertop built into the wall, a small room and walk-in wine cellar behind it.  A large TV filled most of one wall further into the long room, with a couch in front of it, cornering off a little viewing area between the bar, the TV, and the pool table.  Lucent led me further down to another door, which we went through to reach a bedroom.

Nothing as wondrous as Lucent's bedroom back in his apartment in the city, but what it lacked in grandeur, it made up for in size.  The bed was nearly twice as large as I thought it ought to be, with enough pillows and blankets to suit it.  Lucent laughed at me as I stared at a bed that was bigger than my bedroom back in my apartment.

"Are you curious as to what sort of mischief we can achieve in a bed of this size?" Lucent asked me.

"A bed's a bed," I said to Lucent, attempting to act nonchalant.  "I'm sure we could achieve mischief no matter the size."

"Too true," he said with a wicked smirk.

Unfortunately we didn't get up to any mischief making, though.  Lucent lifted the blankets for me, offering me a spot, to which I gladly accepted, slipping onto the plush, cushioned bed.  It felt more like a pillow or a cloud than a mattress, but I kind of loved it.  He got in at the other side, then cuddled close to me.  We kissed, soft and sweet, savoring each other's company.  I found it difficult, what with the scene that had just happened outside, but I had a plan and I planned to enact it as soon as...

Lucent fell asleep, dozing softly while I lay my head on his chest.  Neither of us had bothered to remove our clothes, instead simply finding careful comfort in the cloud-like mattress.  I feigned sleep to help him fall asleep, but as soon as I was sure his breathing was steady and he wouldn't wake if I left, I snuck out of bed.  I retraced our steps, rewinding our path, heading through the game room, to the stairs, to the front door.  Before I went out of it, I checked the far kitchen window quickly.

Lucent's father sat outside, the same as he had when we'd first approached.  I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but he didn't see me watching him.  He stared out at the lake, working on whatever he was working on, hands busy and moving constantly.

I tiptoed to my shoes, slipped them on, opened the front door, and stepped outside.

Maybe I shouldn't be doing this.  Or, in all honesty I didn't think I should do this.  Something forced me into it, though.  Some intuition, or necessity, an unknown, urgent need.  I walked alongside the house to the back and then quietly up the short steps to the porch where Lucent's father sat.

He heard me as soon as I took my first step up the wooden porch steps and turned to look my way.  He didn't say anything until I joined him, sitting in an empty chair opposite him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," I said.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

It was like neither of us had just been involved in an argument, though I supposed maybe that was true; his argument was with Lucent, and for whatever reason I hadn't been apart of it somehow.

"No," I said, though this wasn't exactly true.  "I mean, yes.  Yes, something
is
wrong."

"That's how it is with Lucent," he said.  "If I didn't tell you, you would have found out some other way."

I blinked at him, confused.  "No," I said.  "I'm happy with Lucent.  I don't mean this to sound rude, but I meant that it was something with you.  Not you exactly, but what happened between you and Lucent."

Lucent's father laughed.  "You're a character, aren't you?  Come to my house, start yelling at me, then you come outside and start rambling about something being wrong with me.  Really, you're a piece of work."

"I'm not rambling," I protested.  "I didn't mean it that way, either.  I'm not good at this."

"Well, go on.  Get good at it.  Tell me what you mean, or leave me alone."

"You're just like Lucent," I said, thinking out loud.  "Or maybe he's just like you.  I'm not sure."

That gave him pause.  He stared at me, seemingly reassessing his opinion of me.  "Missy, why would you say a thing like that?"

"You both have different ways of doing it, and you say different things to do it, but it's basically the same," I said.  "You both get straight to the point.  Lucent has a somewhat more formal approach, but you're more rugged and gruff about it."

It was strange to voice my thoughts, because it was more than just that, too.  Lucent's father looked like a more rugged and gruff Lucent, as well.  If Lucent was the austere, stern businessman, his father was similar, yet a no-nonsense, rugged lumberjack.  Maybe not exactly like that, but that's what they both reminded me of; similar yet different.

"You got me," his father said.  "I'm just trying to protect you."

"If you're trying to protect me, who's going to protect Lucent?" I asked.

He paused again, looking unsure as to whether I'd really just said that.  I offered him a quick smile and held out my hand.

"I'm Elise," I said.  "It's nice to meet you."

He took my hand and shook it, conflicted between giving me a tight, stern shake or a dainty and delicate squeeze.  "John," he said.  "Likewise."

"John," I said, repeating his name and claiming it for myself.  I nodded, finding it satisfactory in its own way.

"You're a strange one," he told me.

"Yes," I said.  "I know.  What are you working on?"

He held out his work for me to see, offering it up.  I recognized it immediately, though it confused me at first, too.  I took it in my hands at his prompting, shifting it around this way and that, gazing at the beauty of his handiwork.

Small, fitting perfectly in both my palms, I now held a glass snowglobe.  The bottom was carved of wood, with intricate details cut away in the shape of vines and bushes.  Trapped in the center of the globe, standing high in the middle of its base, stood a porcelain ballerina.  She had one toe touching the ground, with the other foot pressed against her base leg's knee, arms stretched high as if grasping at her glass confinement.  When I twisted the globe in my hand, little snowflakes fell all around her, clouding her view.

She seemed lost to me.  Or that's what I thought.  Lost and alone, trapped in a cage, somehow seeking a way out, yet unable to find it.  And, even still, she danced.  She performed beautifully, ignoring her isolation and her confinement, bringing wonder to her world, even if everything around her was the size of a small snowglobe.

I flipped the snowglobe around and glanced at the bottom quickly, then stopped.  I couldn't hold this.  This wasn't something I should be touching.  Underneath, carved in light letters, was a name: Abby.

I handed it back to John quickly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, brow furrowed.  "Never had someone respond like that before.  Usually everyone's got a million questions."

"That's her," I said, conflicted between looking him in the eyes and refusing to look at him at all.  "Abby."

"That's what the name on the bottom says," he said.

"No, I mean, that's her, isn't it?  Lucent's Abby?"

John froze.  "I don't know what you're talking about.  You're going to have to explain."

How could he not know what I was talking about?  This had to be it, and yet... but then it struck me.  Oh, no, he knew.  Of course he knew.  But he didn't think I should know.  And, to be honest, maybe I shouldn't.

I wasn't going to be coy.  I wasn't going to hide it from him.  I didn't think I needed to, first off, and I didn't think I should, second.  I wanted him to know something very important about me, and a part of that was letting him know I knew something important about Lucent.

"He told me," I said.  "I know what you said before, about thinking that I'm just another one of Lucent's girls.  I know about that, too.  To be honest, I can't say I'm overly pleased, either.  I've found out a lot about Lucent these past few days that's been somewhat startling, but I think it's good in a way, too.  It's a revelation, you know?"

John shrugged, noncommittal, returning to idly carving at the base of the snowglobe.  He picked aimlessly at it with a carving knife, not actually cutting any new pieces of wood away, simply running the blade back and forth along  pre-existing lines.