Page 85 of The Singles Club
“That’s the thing. It’s me who should be apologizing.”
Huh?
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“You tried to tell me that you weren’t ready, and I knew you weren’t sure, even when you said yes… but when you tried, I thought it was enough.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I just wanted it so bad that I started to believe you wanted the same things too… and for that, I’m sorry.”
“I guess we both had a part to play in it.”
“We did. But in the end, we both got something we wanted. You have Paris, and I’ll eventually have a dozen children.”
I laughed. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”
“Thank you.” He stood up. “I won’t take any more of your time. That’s all I wanted to say, really… and I hope that we can be friends, or at least civil and not so awkward with one another if our paths cross again.”
“So long as it doesn’t involve you backing your car into my head, then yes, I’d like that.”
He winced. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, and I’m fine.”
“Good.” Lucas headed towards the door but turned before he opened it. “Oh, and Taylor is going to be in the Pink Ribbon Ball that Mia is helping with.”
My heart dropped to my stomach. “She’s a survivor?”
“No, she did preventative… she’s high risk since her mother passed from breast cancer. She is going to be standing in for her mom and herself.”
Preventative surgery? Wow. She must be a strong person.
“Taylor would like to work with a designer who doesn’t have a name yet and give them the opportunity to get some exposure. If you have anyone in mind, please let me know.”
I was beginning to like Taylor, and I had only met her briefly in the hospital. My mother had given me a very different impression of her.
“I do, actually. Her name is Imani, and she’s very talented. I’ll contact her, and if she’s interested, I’ll put you in touch.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
He reached for the handle.
“Oh, and Lucas?”
“Yes?”
“Taylor sounds amazing. I’m glad you found her.”
“Me too.”
* * *
Justin
Isabella had finished giving me the rundown of my daily to-do list and appointments. Usually, she headed back to her desk, but this time she lingered. I looked up from my emails. “Was there something else?”
“I was thinking. You don’t reallyhaveto come to the office every day. I mean, the only time your presence is required is for meeting a new client or closing deals. With technology these days, it’s so much easier to work remotely.”
“Is there a reason you don’t want me to come in?”
She pointed at her chest indignantly and waved me off as if I was being ridiculous. “No, I love having you here. I’m just trying to save you from all the vultures who try to hit on you.”
