CHAPTER 2: The Decision He Didn't Make
897 Words
The moment Andra shut the door after leaving his coffee on his desk, Lucas's shoulders slumped. He ground his teeth, looking at the glass panel as she walked back to her desk.
She looked at her phone, and he could see how she tensed up at whatever it was she saw.
Maybe she'd gotten something in her eye. It would explain the slight redness he noticed earlier.
Lucas opened the file before him and flipped through slowly, pausing to sip his coffee. The bitter taste burned his tongue.
His gaze settled on the third page. Finance had suggested a revenue forecast that was too optimistic. He picked up a pen and underlined it, then he realised that he had underlined more than necessary. He put down the pen.
Lucas reclined in his leather chair, watching as Andra typed away on her computer. Her hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves in a way that tugged an ache in his chest.
His personal phone rang as he crossed to the wall of windows. He picked it up and looked at the contact ID briefly before he answered.
“How are you? I'm on my way,” a female voice said.
“Imogen, it's…it's not necessary.”
“You should be at home with your family now.”
“I’m just fine. You don't need to come here. I'll see you some other time.”
“But I want to see you. It's not fair that you should still be showing up there when you're supposed to be grieving. Can't your staff hold the fort for a few days?” Lucas glanced absentmindedly at the glass panel.
“Nobody here knows, Imogen. And I'm capable of running my company, grief or not.” His voice was stilted.
“Fine. Will you go to the estate or to your house in the evening?”
“I don't know, but I won't see you tonight.”
“Lucas…”
“Please, Imogen. I have work to do.” She said nothing else, so he hung up.
He was contemplating how proper it would sound if he sent for brandy barely thirty minutes after requesting coffee, when he heard his door open.
Lucas forced a smile as David Ferguson approached.
“David.” He nodded to the blond man who walked with a precise, confident gait.
Lucas could not look at David without remembering the way he had cried openly at Jenna's funeral yesterday.
David extended a palm and clasped his best friend’s hand tightly.
“Man, you look like a storm,” he commented.
Lucas grinned. The movement hurt his jaw.
“At least I'm contained, aren't I?” Lucas asked, walking back to his desk. David followed and sat opposite him.
“Did you tell her?” He asked, motioning to Andra outside.
“No.” Lucas's voice was raspy.
“She looked like she was going to start crying any minute, so I thought…”
“My sister's death is a personal issue. I don't need office sympathy.”
“Lucas, you really look like hell. How are you holding up?”
Lucas gave a slight smirk. “I can't lock myself up and cry like my mother, can I? The Langston Line has to be running or unnecessary questions will come up.”
“You aren't running The Langston Line now. You're barely functioning. And it seems to be reflected in your secretary.”
“No. She has her own issues. Can't pry. I just need a drink or two.”
Lucas's hand hovered over the intercom button.
“Not here,” David said quietly.
“I won't slur my words or forget how to walk if I have a little whiskey.” Lucas hissed out an almost-laugh.
“Not here, Lucas. I'll book you at Blackout tonight.”
Lucas looked at him sharply. “No.”
“You haven't slept or eaten in two days. You're obviously not fine.”
“I am fine.”
“Then come and prove it. A drink, a change of scenery.”
“Take your driver. I can't trust you behind the wheel now,” he added when Lucas remained quiet.
“I don't want to go anywhere.”
David shook his head, pulling out his phone.
Andra tapped on the door and came in with a file, which she placed gently on his desk.
He held his breath when she bent close to him. Her scent reached him before he could stop it.
“This came in from Finance, sir. We need your signature on it.” She tried to polish her tone, but he caught the quiver in her voice.
“I'll attend to it.” It was all he could do to not look in her eyes as she stepped back.
“They need it now.” Her voice was small. She was holding her phone in such a death grip that he could see the faint outline of veins on her hand.
He opened the file and scanned the document briefly before signing at the bottom of the page.
Her phone pinged as he closed the file, and his eyes strayed to the device.
She noticed and pressed the phone closer to her body, turning the screen away from his view.
As she hurried out, Lucas swallowed down the question that had crept up his throat.
- Writer
