Vampires and Sexy Romance (8 page)

“Not just me. 
We’re
meeting them.”

It was Lucy’s turn to gulp
.  I really don’t want to meet this guy. 
Then Luvici’s words caught up with her.  “Them?”

Luvici held open the door gestured with his free hand emphatically for her to get up and get out the door.  “You’re the one who said you wanted an arranged marriage kind of deal.”

“Sure, but—” Lucy was on her feet and Luvici was shoving her out the door and past Darla.

“I’ll be gone for the rest of the afternoon,” he barked at a wide-eyed Darla.  “Reschedule all my appointments.”

“Do you want me to wait for you?”  Darla’s shrill, laser beam voice suddenly dripped with heat and honey.  Doe eyed, she smiled with what looked like genuine affection.  Either the chick was one hell of an actress, or she had it bad for her schmuck of a boss.

Luvici stopped and looked at her, his eyes turning soft, his breathing slowing—even his meaty head cocked ever so slightly to the side.  “This could take a while.  But yeah, would you mind waiting for me?”

Lucy felt like she was watching a real live Life Time romance of the week movie.  And then she remembered that Luvici, the schmuck, had a wife at home—whether she was waiting for him with open arms and pot roast, or not.

Yuck...

“I’ll wait,” Darla said enthusiastically.  “I’ve got loads of filing to catch up on.”

Luvici smiled, kind of laughed once under his breath, then turned and dr
agged Lucy out of the office by the arm.

“LET ME GO!”
  Lucy hollered, grabbing hold of the knob of a passing office door for leverage.  Four inch heels were never good for putting on the breaks in.

Luvici looked back at her.  His eyes had turned back to their previous glaring mode.  “We have to hurry, princess.”

Okay, that’s it!  Now he’s calling me that too...

“Get off me, you freaking troglodyte!”

Luvici let go of her arm like she’d burnt him.  He rounded on her and stood there, practically nose to nose with her.  His breath was making Lucy’s eyes water, but she wouldn’t back down.  This guy was just a big bully, and after all, who’s the one doing the blackmailing around here?

“I—am—not—a—caveman!”    He looked so pissed Lucy thought he was going to strike her.  “I went to Stanford, just like your old man.”  Suddenly his face seemed to crumble, and she saw that his eyes were getting glassy.

“Are you going to cry?”

“NO!”  Luvici roared.  But his face was starting to look like he was indeed getting ready to cry.

I really don’t need a blubbering fool right now.

“I’m not a caveman, the missing link, or a freaking giant...”  He hands were out, palms up, beseeching.  “I’m just big boned, for crying out loud!”

Lucy shook her head, and then switched to nodding in agreement.  “Sure...I totally see that.”

“Then why’d you say that?”  The hurt in his eyes made Lucy cringe.  Where was the nasty, lecherous weasel that was checking her out just ten minutes ago? 

“Everyone said that,” he grumbled.  College...even my goddamn wife calls me a Cyclops!”

“Oh,” Lucy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.  Okay, his eyes were a little close together, but with a little creative eyebrow plucking...

A tear was threatening to leak out of his left eye.  Lucy couldn’t take it if he started to cry now.

“So, where is this place, where we’re meeting creepy phone guy.”

Luvici got back that annoyed look on his face
.  I can handle annoyed, just not weepy.

“We don’t call Mr. Enoch creepy phone guy.  So remember that.  He’s rich and powerful...hell the entire family’s rich and powerful.  They all work for the company.  Hell, they are the freaking company.”

“Okay, Okay.”  Lucy put up her hands in surrender.  “He’s now only known as Mr. Enoch.  So where are we going?  And why were you in such a hurry?”

This elicited Luvici to check his watch, groaning and swearing under his breath as he gestured again for me to walk.

“We’re meeting Mr. Enoch and his nephew at Caulderon’s.”

Lucy smiled.  Her father had taken her there the day she’d passed her driver’s license exam.  And he’d said they’d go again when she got accepted to Stanford.  It was expensive.  They didn’t even serve tap water, only fancy French and Italian stuff with bubbles.

“Excellent!” she chimed.

Luvici started moving down the street with some real speed.  Now that he wasn’t dragging Lucy behind him, she suddenly had a hard time keeping up with him.

“Caulderon’s is just a couple blocks away,” Lucy yelled after him.  “Why are you in such a rush?”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her again.  Looking down at her he said, “We have to dress you.”

Dress me?  But I’m not naked...

But then it hit her.  Jeans and a frumpy top weren’t going to impress people that were rich and powerful, or that frequented Caulderon’s.  And then Lucy remembered that creepy phone guy—er…Mr. Enoch—had said he was looking for a “suitable young lady.”

Definitely, I need something else to wear.

With a sudden desperate tug at her heart she realized she didn’t have enough money to even buy underwear in the shops they were passing by, no less a dress.

“I can’t afford these shops.” Lucy said, grabbing hold of Luvici’s wrist as he jerked toward a boutique’s entrance.

Luvici rolled his eyes.  “It’s on me, kid.”

“Thought you were broke?”  she groused, stopping in her tracks, hands on hips.

“I can’t afford your little blackmail scheme, but I can tote the bill for a dress.”  He looked down at Lucy’s shoes.  “Maybe we can find something that will go with those shoes.”

Maybe,
she thought as she followed Luvici into the boutique.  Lucy had to stop.  She turned and breathed in the scents:  Designer clothes, Italian leather, silk, Egyptian cotton.  And all of it new...

She suddenly felt a little light headed.

“Lucy!”  Luvici shouted, tearing her out of her reverie.  “Get in here.”

He was holding open the door to a changing room.

She stood there and just stared at the big man.

“Get in here and strip.” he said.  “I’ll pick something out.”

Lucy shook her head.  There was no way this overgrown slouch could pick out something pretty, refined and appropriate. 
Just look at Darla.

Luvici caught her by the arm and shoved her into the five by five, mirror clad changing room.  “How are you going to pick me out something?”

Silence.

“I mean, not that I’m doubting your fashion sense,”
But, oh god I am
. 
Look at the way you dress. 
“You don’t even know what size I am!”

Suddenly something flew over the changing room door and dangled from Luvici’s meaty fingers until Lucy finally reached out and took it.  It was a dress, ivory colored silk with a delicate pattern of exotic flowers.  Gold thread was woven into the fabric.  And low and behold, it was her size.

I hate that everyone seems to know what size I am now!

But just touching the soft, soft silk, and holding it up against her, looking in the full-length mirror in front of her, she couldn’t deny the big oaf had incredible taste. 

“Thanks...Frank.”

“You’re welcome.  Now try it on.”  Lucy could hear him pacing outside the little room.  “If we hurry, we can get you manicured and your hair done...maybe some demure makeup.”

Lucy had to agree.  Her makeup was overdone.  She’d been aiming for sultry with a side of dangerous.  But that didn’t go well with the dress.  And her hair and nails really needed work.

He had a good eye.

“And please tell me those shoes match the dress.”

Lucy looked down at her shoes and smiled.  “Perfectly.  Where did you get such a good eye?”  Then Lucy remembered that Luvici liked girls
and
guys.  There had to be some gay/bi-sexual fashion gene in there, somewhere.

There was a long silence, but just as she started pulling off her top Luvici started talking.

“I was going to be an art major, in college.”

“You’re an artist?”  She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Not good enough to be a professional...but I really wanted to own a gallery someday.”  She heard him chuckle unhappily to himself.  “But the family—my father—insisted I go to law school.”

She recognized the edge to Luvici’s voice.  His father hadn’t approved of him, and it still cut him like a knife.  She could relate.

She slipped into the dress, easily zipping herself up, then inspected her reflection in the panorama of the mirrored walls.  The dress was a knock out; elegant, yet fresh and young.  

Lucy came out into the store with a flourish, turning in a grand gesture, smiling up at Luvici.

“Not bad.”  He handed his charge card to the rather intimidated looking sales clerk.  

Moments later he was ushering Lucy into a small beauty parlor with oriental decor, and an all oriental staff.

He walked right up to the gorgeous woman standing behind the counter.  Her hair was like black glass, not a fly away or split end anywhere, and her skin was flawless.

“Ming Na…my friend here needs a manny-peddy, a trim, styled—maybe a twist—and makeup.”  Luvici gave the woman that raised eyebrow look Lucy already hated.
             

“Sure thing Luvici,” The woman sounded like she hated that look too.  “Why don’t you ever bring in that secretary of yours?  She needs a lot more work than this one does.”

Luvici smiled.  “I like Darla just the way she is.  Now can you hurry?  We’ve got...”  He looked down at his watch.  “Forty-five minutes.”

“It’ll cost you, dog.”  Lucy almost didn’t catch the “dog” reference.  She’d said it so matter-of-factly.  Lucy suddenly wondered how many women Luvici was cavorting with.  Or was he just that infamous?

The woman named Ming Na whisked Lucy back to the sinks and scrubbed her hair with the most enticing smelling shampoo.  Exotic essences of flowers and fruit enveloped Lucy’s senses.  Then she ushered her into a salon chair, and as she snipped away all of Lucy’s damaged ends, two other women started work on her hands and feet.

“No fake nails!”  Lucy and Luvici said simultaneously. 

“Just make them even, and match the dress.”  Luvici finished.

By the time they were done, her nails and toenails shined a lovely pale pink, and her hair had been flat-ironed to perfection.  It was almost as glassy as her hairdresser’s.  Two minutes later Ming Na had washed and moisturized her face, and was already making quick work of Lucy’s make up. 

As she walked out of the salon, Lucy had to admit, besides being ten pounds overweight, and that her shoes were designer rip offs, she’d possibly never looked so good.

Finally,
Lucy sighed to herself with relief as she looked in the salon mirror. 
Mirrors love me again.

~*~

Walking into Caulderon’s, Lucy felt more than good, she felt fabulous.  She hadn’t felt pretty in a very long time, and now she felt absolutely beautiful.  No.  She felt stunning and gorgeous, and she knew without a doubt that every head in the restaurant was turning to look at her.

She felt the self confidence return to her step.  She suddenly felt powerful.

Luvici stopped at the maître de’s podium, and after only a moment’s pause to take in Luvici, the host’s face turned warm and inviting as he beckoned them into the restaurant.

The place seemed larger to Lucy, now.  Even though she’d only been there the once, she’s taken it all in with an air of entitlement.  Now, she knew that your life could be changed, leveled to dirt and mud—and special sauce—so now she was taking everything in with much more care, savoring the moment.

But something in Lucy decided she didn’t like the way she was feeling.  An expensive dress, a quickie salon experience and getting to enter a high priced eatery weren’t things she had ever imagined she would be thankful for.

What’s wrong with me?

Luckily, Lucy didn’t have time to ponder this.  In seconds the host had shown them to what was most certainly the best table in the house.  Center stage, two waiters and two assistant waiters stood like sentinels, waiting to act on their customer’s every command and wish.

Okay, this is nice
, Lucy thought as one of the wait staff pulled out her seat and then gently pushed it in once she sat down.

Lucy was so taken with this formality that she almost didn’t notice the two men that had stood to greet her.  They were still standing, looking down on her with matching looks of mild irritation.

Lucy shot up out of her chair, and thankfully didn’t knock anything over in her haste. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, suddenly feeling clumsy and rude—though she wasn’t quite sure why. 

The older man spoke, extending his hand, “Not at all.”  It was creepy phone guy, aka Mr. Enoch.  “I’m afraid I should be more…flexible.  Regrettably, I’m old and set in my ways.  Please forgive me, Miss. Hart.”

Okay, his voice may still be kind of creepy.
She took his rather warm hand,
but he really couldn’t be any more handsome and ingratiating
.  She could well imagine him holding court with royalty, and she was sure he and Shirley would get along perfectly.

She smiled to herself just thinking of Shirley chatting him up on her bus.  The idea was preposterous.

Mr. Enoch released her hand, giving her a tiny dip of his silver haired head in salute.  Then he turned to the other man at the table.

Wow!
  Lucy thought, looking up into his handsome, dark featured face.  Dark chocolate brown eyes you could get lost in.   His lips were kissably thick, with just a touch of pink.   And his bone structure was perfect; Prince charming in the flesh.  Not to mention how his suit was tailored to hug his lithe body to utter perfection.  The chocolate and caramel in the suit only accentuated his dark skin and hair. 

Oh, and his eyes—drowning deep.
Can’t get overt those eyes.

But then she noticed the look on the handsome younger man’s face.  It was a look she’d never seen coming from a man.  Usually men looked at her with admiration and longing.  That she was used to.  But this guy, he looked at her with clear distain.  Lucy had never had a perfect stranger look at her with such pure contempt.