Chapter 11 - THE FIRST DATE WITHOUT A DISGUISE
Our first proper date was at a bookstore café.
Lucas had suggested an exclusive restaurant.
I declined.
He suggested a private dining room.
I declined again.
Finally, I chose a small café near Lincoln Park where the tables were uneven, the coffee was excellent, and nobody cared whether a customer was worth ten dollars or ten billion.
Lucas arrived wearing dark jeans and a navy sweater.
I stared.
He smiled.
“What?”
“You look normal.”
“Thank you. I think.”
I laughed.
We ordered coffee and pastries.
Then sat near the window.
For the first few minutes, Lucas seemed unsure what to do with his hands.
I enjoyed that far more than I should have.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
He considered denying it.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
I laughed.
“Lucas DeLuca is nervous?”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm accustomed to people wanting something from me.”
I studied him.
“And you think I don't?”
He smiled faintly.
“What do you want?”
I considered the question.
Then answered honestly.
“To know whether the man behind the reputation is someone I'd enjoy spending time with.”
Lucas looked at me for a long moment.
Then smiled.
“That's fair.”
We talked about childhood.
Our families.
The things we'd wanted before our parents began making plans for us.
Lucas admitted he'd wanted to become an architect.
I nearly choked on my coffee.
“An architect?”
He laughed.
“Why does everyone find that surprising?”
“Because you own half the buildings in Chicago.”
“Not half.”
“Fine. A suspicious number.”
He smiled.
“My grandfather wanted me in the family business. I studied architecture for one year before leaving school.”
“Do you regret it?”
He considered that.
“Sometimes.”
I looked down.
“I understand.”
He studied me.
“What did you want?”
“To run hotels.”
“Don't you?”
“Not directly. I advise people who do.”
“Why not own one?”
I smiled sadly.
“Because Father spent years convincing me that taking a visible leadership role would embarrass him.”
Lucas's expression darkened.
I held up a hand.
“Don't look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you're considering purchasing a hotel just to prove a point.”
He laughed.
“I wasn't.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Lucas.”
He sighed.
“Perhaps briefly.”
I shook my head.
“You're impossible.”
We talked for three hours.
No contracts.
No family politics.
No discussions of dowries disguised as partnerships.
At one point, Lucas asked about my company.
Not its valuation.
Not its clients.
But why I'd started it.
I looked toward the window.
“Because I wanted to build something nobody could take away by telling me I didn't understand.”
He nodded.
“That makes sense.”
I studied him.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Why are you changing your businesses?”
He took a breath.
“Because I finally realized that being feared isn't the same as being respected.”
I remained silent.
He continued.
“My family taught me that loyalty meant protecting everything we owned, even when it hurt other people.”
His expression softened.
“I don't want to live that way anymore.”
I looked at him.
“That's a difficult change.”
“Yes.”
“And it won't happen overnight.”
“I know.”
I smiled faintly.
“Good.”
Outside, evening lights appeared along the street.
When we finally left, Lucas walked me to my car.
He stopped several feet away.
“Grace.”
“Yes?”
“Would you like to do this again?”
I smiled.
“Maybe.”
He laughed.
“That's cruel.”
“I'm considering Kevin's emotional needs.”
Lucas shook his head.
“Poor Kevin.”
Then I stepped closer.
“Lucas?”
“Yes?”
“I'd like to do it again.”
His smile softened.
“Good.”
He reached toward my hand, then stopped.
“May I?”
I looked at him.
The most feared man in Chicago.
Asking permission to hold my hand.
I smiled.
“Yes.”
His fingers closed gently around mine.
May you like
And for the first time in three years, I left a date without feeling relieved that it was over.
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