He stood abruptly. “Right. Good. Well, I’ll send that information off to you as soon as I’m home.”
“’Kay.”
“Good evening, Sam.”
“Night, Lukas.”
The next weekwas filled with a tuxedo fitting, getting my blood work done, making arrangements for Bubbles—Maggie was all too happy to care for her. Packing was interesting because I’d never packed to go anywhere other than the hospital, and I’d had to do some research on essential travel necessities.
I was equal parts excited and terrified. Not scared to physically travel, but that I’d inadvertently embarrass Lukas. I was sure there were many other people he could have asked. As handsome and rich as he was, he had to know hundreds of people. Yet, he’d chosen to ask me, and I was feeling some serious pressure.
Thanksgiving was in two days, and then the gala was the following week. I was sweating a lot—like, I hadn’t known the human body could produce this much moisture through pores. What if I perspired like this at the gala?
“Are you freaking out?” Natalie questioned as I leaned on the counter at the shop, going over my travel checklist.
“I am, as a matter of fact.”
She snorted. “I think this is so cool that you’re going to New York, gonna dance at a fancy party, and meet some gorgeous people—because you know they’re gonna be prettttttttty!”
“It is cool, Nat.” I stood and grabbed her shoulders. “Too cool for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, this is not even in the same league as your coolness.”
“You lie too well.”
She chuckled, stepped away, and began wiping the counters. “I’m not lying, Sam. You underestimate yourself. You’re super good-looking, smart, kind, funny, you have this ability to make people gravitate toward you. Lukas wasn’t stupid asking you to go; he was brilliant.”
“How is he brilliant asking me? I don’t know things like mergers and acquisitions. I can’t even spell acquisitions without the assistance of spellcheck.”
“Sam.” She was laughing. “You don’t need to know any of that. Did Lukas tell you to do a deep dive into understanding the inner workings of Wall Street and whatever it is he does?”
“No.”
She raised her brows. “Therefore, he just wants you to be you.”
“Me?” I slumped against the counter. “I annoy him.”
“Annoyed,” she corrected.
“No, no, I think I still annoy him. I’ve just worn him down, or he has some sort of Stockholm Syndrome.”
She cackled. “Idiot. No.”
“I just don’t want to be the reason these people refuse to help his companies.”
She tossed the dirty cloth into the bin and looked at me. “Did he tell you anything about his companies, these people, what the business side of it was?”
I turned my head, the side of my face plastered to the cool metal. “No.”
“Then there probably isn’t any business talk that is going to happen. Chill.”
I’d try to chill. I’d fail, but I’d at least try.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lukas
“Dude, is that The Beast?”Sam stood in front of the bookstore, his bags beside him and his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them.
