Lucas – 6. chapter

Lucia was sitting in the armchair turned directly toward the wall clock. Leaning back, her head resting against the chair back, she stared intently at the second hand, wondering whether sheer willpower might be enough to stop it. If it ever worked, it would be now.

The hand moved anyway, betraying the truth. One minute left until four.

Lucas’s door was closed. She briefly considered which rule mattered more. The ban against opening that door, or the promise to show up at four. In the end, she decided it wouldn’t matter. If he wanted to punish her, he would simply declare whatever suited him as the reason.

Thirty seconds. Fifteen.

She stood. Smoothed her skirt. Walked to the door. Took a deep breath and opened it.

He was on the phone, standing with his back to the door. At the sound of the door opening, he turned sharply, surprise flashing across his face. When he saw her, his gaze flicked to his watch, then back to her. He waved her inside.

“I’ve told you everything,” he emphasized into the phone as he closed the door behind her.

“Mm. How long?” He continued the call calmly.

He pushed the guest chair away from his desk and into the center of the room, motioning for Lucia to sit. He didn’t look at her as she did. Instead, he walked to the couch and picked up a tie that had clearly been laid out in advance. One of two.

She almost smiled at the choice. Against the dark brown leather backrest, the red silk really stood out.

He remained standing, rolling the tie between his fingers, listening intently to the voice on the other end.

Lucia felt the pressure rising even faster than it had outside the door.

“Call me as soon as you have it. Thanks.” He finally ended the call and placed the phone on the desk.

Still, he didn’t look at her.

He walked around the chair, took her hands, and tied them just as he had the day before. Perhaps a touch gentler, but there was no denying the firmness. Then he stepped back, leaned against the edge of the desk, crossed his ankles, and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“So. We can begin.”

He smiled broadly, making no attempt to hide the insolence and challenge in his gaze.

“Mm,” she said, trying to sound calm.

“What’s the highest level of education you’ve completed?” he asked, matching her tone.

“High school. It’s in my résumé,” she replied, far too casually.

He pushed off the desk, took a step toward her, reached for the top button of her blouse, and undid it in one swift movement before leaning back again.

“Answer in full sentences. And politely. Understood?”

He smiled.

With her lips pressed tightly together, she nodded once.

“Good girl. What’s the highest level of education you’ve completed?”

She took a deep breath to suppress the surge of anger his praise sparked and answered.

“Ladislav Sára High School in Bratislava.”

“Have you completed any courses? Economics, accounting, anything like that?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Hm. Then how do you know how to make spreadsheets like that?”

“I don’t really know. Not exactly,” she shrugged, staring at the carpet.

He stepped forward again and undid another button.

“Try again,” he prompted, already leaning back against the desk.

“Probably the internet. It’s not that difficult.”

“The internet?” His voice was skeptical. “I studied this for four years, about ten years ago, and I couldn’t remember how to do it. And the internet was enough for you?”

She chose to ignore his tone and nodded.

A step closer. Another button.

“Full sentence. And polite,” he said firmly.

“Sorry. Yes. The internet was enough for that.”

“Okay… I don’t believe you.”

He stepped forward again. Another button. This one let him catch a glimpse of her bra. Black satin. No lace.

He wondered briefly whether she wore that every day or if she had chosen it for him. Had she known he would undress her?

His attention and gaze returned to her.

“Let’s change the subject. What car do you drive?”

His smile widened. She frowned. Was that really enough for him?

“Uh. It’s brown,” she managed after a moment.

His eyebrow lifted in disbelief as he stared at her.

“You’re joking, right?” he said, his voice firm.

“Not really. Some BMW. I think.”

This time he approached slowly, deliberately. He undid another button just as carefully and pulled the fabric aside to expose more of her skin.

“I’m a woman. I don’t know cars. Really.”

He traced the edge of her bra with his fingertip, waited until she gasped, then met her eyes.

“You REALLY think I’m going to buy that?”

“Lucas, please, …”

“Forget it!” he cut her off. “You don’t have much of a chance at mercy today.”

She swallowed hard. She repeated to herself what she had the day before. There was nothing to be afraid of. He was good at intimidation, but he definitely wouldn’t do anything serious to her.

She took a deep breath and tried again.

“That car isn’t mine. It’s borrowed. It’s brown, probably a BMW, and it has four wheels. I honestly don’t know!”

He studied her, then crossed his arms. He knew she was lying. He simply knew. Still, she was doing it pretty well.

He was about to move when his phone rang. He answered almost immediately.

“Yes? …Great.”

He hung up.

“I’ll leave you alone for a moment.”

As he passed her, his knuckles brushed her cheek.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he smirked, already closing the door behind him before she could even scoff.

The first five or ten minutes of waiting seemed fine. But with every passing moment, the unease grew stronger.

What was so important that he was willing to leave her like this?

She had a very bad feeling that whatever it was, it had everything to do with her.