Book I - 3

SCARLET

I still couldn’t get over the thought of Luke being here in Cambridge. I’d been debating with myself whether to show up and introduce myself formally, but how could I? I couldn’t ask Mom for his number. I didn’t know where he lived.

However, I was more concerned about what I would feel if I saw him. I would certainly have mixed emotions. I’d heard Thomas assigned him to a new business project in Cambridge, and he would stay for three months. It would be enough time before I graduate in two months. I badly needed the help of someone with IT expertise for my thesis. Luke had been an IT genius during his Harvard days.

I frowned at my wristwatch. The Uber came at last, after fifteen minutes of waiting. I dragged my suitcase along with me and stepped into the car. To my irritation, my phone rang the moment I settled in the car.

“Good evening, Miss Scarlet Carter?” The driver greeted me. “Your destination is JFK airport?”

“Yes, thank you.” I drew out the phone from my pocket. Jax’s name appeared on the screen. “Yes, what is it?” I snapped.

“What’s with your tone?”

“I’m sorry. I’m going to be late for my nine o’clock flight.”

“Is it today?” he asked, then cleared his throat.

“Yes. Why did you call me?”

“I just want to remind you of our agreement. Nine days to go, Ericka.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you just find another woman to screw this weekend?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve been busy. I flew back home last night.” He groaned. I noticed the grogginess in his voice. Jax told me he was a businessman and often flies around the world. I wasn’t sure if I believed him, but he made it clear how much he hated liars, so I guess he was telling the truth. Though, I didn’t bother asking about it.

I frowned. “Isn’t your home in New York? I still don’t understand the coincidences between us.”

“Yet, you won’t let me see you. I’m starting to hate answering your queries about your job. Are you sure you’re a graduate?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be able to register in the app if I wasn’t, right? Also, as I said, your expertise in IT is wider than mine. I’m still new to this.”

“I’m pretty sure you also didn’t give your real name on Pro-Express.”

“Ericka is my real name,” I lied. “But I’m sure yours isn’t Jax.”

“Do you want me to tell you my real name?”

“No. Thank you,” I declined right away. I had stalker tendencies. If I knew about him, I would search for his name on the internet.

“You’ll soon find out when we meet.”

“What if I’m ugly?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not.”

“I said, what if? What if I’m not your type?”

“Then I’ll cover your head with the bedsheet.”

I laughed. “Okay, okay. Because I’m sure you’ll be disappointed. I’m not pretty.”

“I don’t care. I only care about how wet you could get if I’m inside you.” And there, I felt something building up inside me.

“You don’t care about appearance, do you?”

“No. I care, but it would be much easier if you’d tell me what you look like.”

“I look like a woman.” I giggled. “Why are you in New York? Didn’t you just arrive in Cambridge a few days ago?”

“It’s family matters. Something came up,” he said. “I can easily find you when you get here, you know?”

“You won’t do that.”

“I said I could. I didn’t say I will. And I don’t stalk. I only search for people if they commit fraud.”

“Good. Because I’m going to sue you.”

He laughed softly. “I’ll see you in nine days. When is your flight back?”

I shrugged. “Maybe in a week.”

“Good, I have to hang up. Have a safe flight, Ericka.”

“Thanks.”

I hung up and tried to call Thomas, but his line was busy, so I just sent him a message. I told him about my expected time of arrival. I just hoped he received it. He’d insisted on having me picked up at the airport.

He was happy that I was finally coming home. If only he could wrap me in a box with a ribbon as a present to my mother. Thomas was a great man and a good husband to Mom. He never stopped talking about how much he loved her whenever we talked over the phone. But I’d heard that he was a strict man and the King of the house—and me being late could upset him.

However, his son Luke was no prince since he hardly stayed in the house. Then that made my Mom the Queen. I wonder… would they treat me like a princess? I giggled at the thought, but I remembered I didn’t want to be one.

The flight went smoothly. Honestly, I was excited and nervous at the same time. It’d been six years since I last saw New York. As usual, the airport was crowded. I dragged my luggage off the baggage carousel and decided to find Thomas’ driver.

After a few minutes of searching, I still couldn’t find him. Mom said he should be a man in his early forties, and he had my picture so he would quickly find me. My shoulders and feet were beginning to feel heavy. I thought he got stuck in traffic.

I drew out my phone and decided to call Thomas. But, as I was scrolling through my contacts, someone approached me. I lifted my head to see who, and to my surprise, Luke was standing in front of me. I gasped a little at the sight of him. My heart pounded abnormally.

“Hello, little sister,” he greeted. His voice was cultured and strangely familiar. My imagination and memory didn’t do justice to how beautiful he was. He was even more gorgeous than when I last saw him. He was dressed in a tailored, navy-blue suit with a gray silk tie and a Constantin wristwatch, and I was sure he was wearing a pair of custom-made shoes.

My knees started to feel weak. Luke’s deep gray eyes pierced through mine, and his chiseled jaw was sharp and defined.

“Luke,” I breathed. “How did you find me?”

He flashed out a half-smile. I almost melted. “I remembered your face a little.”

“Where’s…. Where’s the driver?” I asked, my mouth still feeling dry. He was too beautiful; it was too much to handle.

“He’s not here. Come on.” He snatched the handle of my suitcase from me. I felt tingles in my stomach when his fingers brushed mine.

“Wait. What’s going on? How come you are here?”

“Unfortunately, Dad asked me to come and pick you up.” He looked briefly at his wristwatch, his left eyebrow raised. “Come. It’s getting late.” Luke walked first.