The following few days were a frenzy of thoughts, sketches, and restless nights. Emma poured herself into the commission, attempting to get the core of what Lucas had asked for, even as her head returned to their chat. She could not shake anything about him, no matter how hard she tried.
She had always been adept at organizing her life and separating her emotions from her employment. But Lucas Stone had stretched the boundaries, thereby rendering it impossible to consider anything else. She detested his simple sloppiness beneath her skin. Her stomach knitted in knots every time she considered him and the way his gaze had cut through her barriers.
The fact that his assistant reminded her of the piece's deadline in multiple follow-up emails didn't help. Though the anxiety was building, she knew she had time. Lucas was not just customer; he was Lucas Stone, a guy whose one word could either ruin or launch careers. The idea was sufficient to keep her sane at night.
Emma's phone chimed one afternoon while she was seated in her studio surrounded by half-formed ideas and incomplete drawings. She froze looking at the screen.
Stone, Lucas Stone.
Her thoughts whirling, her heart skipped a beat as she glanced at his name. Why would he be phoning her? Was the commission faulty in any way? Worse still—was he intending to call off it?
She swiped to respond with quivering fingertips. Hello?
Emma, His voice was silky, as if he hadn't only sharpened her anxiety. "I wanted to follow the development of the work.
Trying to keep her voice steady, she said, "I'm working on it." "I think I have the direction I want to go from some sketches I have done."
"Good," he replied, and her ears picked up his grin. "I sensed you would be the ideal candidate for this."
His comments warmed her despite her own self-loathing. She was not accustomed to praises, particularly not from someone like Lucas. But his tone was sincere, something that would have made her feel as if he wasn't only chatting about the artwork.
"I was wondering if you would want dinner," he said, his voice laid back but the connotation was anything else. "I would like to go over the project more."
Emma felt her heart hammer in her chest. Dinner calls for using Lucas Stone? She knew this was risky ground. She should say no; she should keep things purely professional, as she always has done with her customers. But the words stopped in her mouth, and she discovered she was nodding instead.
She responded, "I—okay," her voice barely above a whisper. "When?,"
"Tonight," he said without skipping a beat. "I will have my driver pick you up at eight."
Emma drew in a firm gulp. " Alright."
She gazed at her phone, her head whirling as the conversation finished. She had just agreed upon what? Dinner with Lucas Stone transcended mere dining. It was crossing limits and a step into something she wasn't ready for. She was a portion deep inside, however, that was thrilled even as the uncertainty bit her. inquisitive. Attracted to him in a manner she was unable to express.
Emma was a whirl of anxiety by the time eight o'clock arrived. She had three costume changes and finally settled on a basic black dress that felt classy but comfy. Her pulse pounding as they drove to the restaurant, the driver inhaled deeply and got into the vehicle.
Lucas was waiting for her at the door when she arrived; his black suit was exactly fitting and his eyes brightened at sight. She felt, for a time, as if she had entered a dream. The restaurant was sophisticated, darkly lighted, with background gentle music. It was the type of location where bargains were negotiated and lives were transformed.
Lucas clasped her hand and grinned. "I'm glad you showed up."
Emma's breath seized in her throat as his hand stayed just a second longer than required. She had never felt this way before; Lucas Stone was the only solid object she could see as the earth under her feet changed.
And that more than anything scared her.
Emma entered the restaurant with her heels quietly clicking on the polished marble floor. The evening air was cool. Though the room was enveloped in quiet hum of discussion and clinking cutlery, Lucas's presence dominated it. The instant she entered, his black eyes latched into hers, and it seemed as if the whole planet melted away.
"Emma." His voice was kind, like a soft hug calming the frantic frenzy in her gut. He drew out a chair for her, and as she settled down she smelled the smallest trace of his cologne—rich, earthy, and unquestionably sedative.
She offered him a little, tense grin. "I appreciate you inviting me.".
He seated across from her, his gaze fixed only on her face. "I like this. Talking about the project in a more laid-back environment seems appropriate.
Emma nodded, not really sure how laid back she felt. There was obvious conflict between them, an undertone of something whispered but definitely genuine. Her fingers slid over the margins of her menu in search of something—anything—to anchor her.
Breaking the quiet, Lucas stated, "I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with." Though his voice was consistent, there was a depth behind it that transcended simple banter. "I consider your perspective of the world to be unique."
His comment made her cautious even if it warmed her from the inside out. She had been here before, attracted by someone's words only to discover she was broken when their behavior did not line up. But Lucas... he sensed something more. Perhaps it was just her not let anybody this near in years.
She murmured softly, "Thank you," staring right back at him. "I want to make sure it really speaks to you; I have been working on some sketches but."
Emma saw her pulse quickening as his lips turned to a gentle grin. " Whatever you produce will be absolutely perfect."
When the waiter showed in later and delivered them menus and took their drink orders, the moment was broken. Emma ordered a glass of wine and returned the menu with slightly shaking fingers. Lucas saw, his eyes softening as he leaned closer.
Emma, you are not prone to anxiety. It's just supper.
Still, it was not simply supper. Not for her. Not when every look, every word seemed to have more weight. She fretted at the tug she felt between them.
She softly laughed, attempting to release the strain. "I know," she said. "I just am not used to this."
Lucas slanted his head to observe her. " Not used to what?"
She pointed between them, "this, dinners with people like you."
He arched an eyebrow, a flutter of entertainment flickering across his features. "People favor me?"
Her cheeks flaming, she continued, "You know what I mean." You're... unique.
" Different how?," asked
Emma stopped, gave her remarks much thought. Though the reality was Lucas Stone was unlike anybody she had ever met, she wanted not to say too much or give him the wrong impression. Though she knew it was risky, she wanted to be closer to him because he was strong, authoritative, and yet she sensed something fragile about him.
"You are used to getting what you want," she remarked at last. "I'm not sure I match into that world."
Lucas's grin faded, his demeanor becoming more austere. "I doubt you understand how much you fit in my world."
She was shocked by the remarks, and for a little while she stopped breathing. He was not only discussing art here. She was aware of this now. He was referring to something deeper, something that both thrilled and scared her.
Her voice just heard above the gentle clink of glasses and silverware surrounding them, "I'm not so sure about that."
Lucas slanted forward, staring at hers. " I am."
Emma pondered what it would be like to let go—to give in to the relationship between them—for a little minute; the intensity in his eyes was enough to get her pulse racing. Then the memories of her prior grief slammed over her like a wave, and she tensed, gently drawing back.
She forbade herself from falling in love with him. Not as like this. Not after she had labored so hard to surround her heart with barriers.
Lucas reclined back in his chair, allowing her the time she needed; he seemed to feel her change. Emma was appreciative when he refrained from pressing her or advocating more.
She apologized, her voice quivering somewhat. "It is merely... I have not done this in a long time.
She trailed off not knowing how to complete the statement. Lucas nodded, however, understanding without her having to clarify. His eyes softened, and he stretched across the table to feel her fingertips. Though it was short, the touch warmed her in a ripple kind.
He responded gently, "I get it." "We have no hurry about anything."
Emma exhaled the breath she hadn't noticed she was holding, her shoulders somewhat at ease. Perhaps he did not share the others. Lucas Stone could have been unique. She let herself hope, but even then she felt a part of her terrified to believe it.
The remainder of the evening was a whirlwind of conversation—Lucas inquiring about her artwork, her influences, while Emma turned back the questions to him. She discovered he was not only the strong CEO everyone believed him to be. She was captivated by layers of more than just surface level information about him.
She was increasingly conflicted however, the more she discovered. She could see herself being caught in, the barricades she had erected around her heart gradually collapsing. She also doubted her readiness for it.