Someone Like You (4 page)

“I loved them” she corrected.

“I’m glad you loved them.” He was rolling his eyes as he agreed to her correction.

“It’s too bad we can’t have dinner tomorrow. Some other time, perhaps?”

“Of course,” he replied quickly. “I’m sorry but I have to finish something.”

“Oh. Okay,” her voice sounded disappointed.

“I’ll see you,” he said, ending the call.

He huffed as he put down his phone. Alice came in. “Your car’s ready.”

“Thanks. I feel like walking.”

“Should I tell him to wait just in case?”

“God, no. I’d like to walk. Too much pressure today.”

“Your father would disapprove.”

“He’s not here.”

“Fine. I’ll call up Mr. Lane “

“Ben needs to relax.”

Ben Lane was the family chauffeur. He had been serving the Conrad family for over thirty years now. Ben had taught him to drive a stick-shift and a truck when he was sixteen, for which Lucas was eternally grateful for.

“He doesn’t do anything but drive.”

“Driving is tiresome, Alice,” he said with a raised brow and a sarcastic smile.

Alice huffed. “All right, I will. You take care now. Your father will hang my ass.”

“I wouldn’t want to see that,” he said with a shudder. Then he laughed.

Alice huffed again. “You’ll be leaving your things?”

“Just the laptop,” he replied, slinging a black leather messenger bag, “See you Monday.”

He exited his office and passed by the empty cubicles. He had a whole wing of his own in the twenty story glass and steel edifice that the Conrad Group owned. He entered the art deco inspired elevator alone. As the elevator went down, his thoughts shifted to what other excuses he could give to Jennifer the next time she initiated a date. The elevator gave a ding.

“Ground Floor,”
the automated voice announced.

He got off and saw the receptionist turning off her computer.

“Good evening sir,” she said.

He nodded and smiled.

Two security guards tipped off their hats to him.

“Been a long day, guys,” he said with another smile.

“Have a good night sir,” one guard said.

He stepped out into the cool autumn air and took a deep breath. The sun had set early and the lights all over the block twinkled in the night. He walked slowly for central park. He liked walking alone sometimes. It gave him room for private musings. Besides, his home was just across Central Park. Their company headquarters were located near the American Museum of Natural History, also across the home he barely shared with his family.

Reaching the building he lived in, he greeted the man by the door.

“Walked again?” the doorman at the Stanhope building asked.

“Felt like a nice night to walk,” Lucas replied.

He got into an elevator again and pressed the button for the eighth floor. Taking out a key for their unit, he was startled to see the door ajar.

“Mr. Conrad?” a voice began.

“Josefa,” he greeted the maid. “I thought you left already.”

“Your father asked me to do some extra cleaning,” she replied with a thick accent.

“Who else is here?” he asked.

The unit shone from ceiling to floor. Aside from being an austere businessman, Charles Conrad was also a neat freak.

“The other two left a couple of minutes ago, sir.”

“Did you get your pay check yet?”

“Yes Mr. Conrad. It was more than I expected.”

“Think of it as a bonus. How are your kids?”

“They’re good sir. Would you like me to do anything else while I’m here?”

“You could clean up my head,” he laughed.

Josefa looked at him quizzically.

He changed the topic. “You can come back next week. You can go now. Have a good weekend.”

She nodded, said thanks and excused herself and closed the main door.

He flung his messenger bag onto a table and took off his shoes, placing them inside a wooden shoe rack near the main door. He raised the blinds and turned on the lights in the kitchen. He was too tired to cook. They did have a chef but the chef was at their other flat where his father usually stayed. It was only a couple of blocks away. He decided for some Chinese take-out in the end.

While waiting, he watched the news again on an LED set on the kitchen counter. He liked the kitchen; it was the only area that his father had refused to renovate. It reminded him of his mother who made pancakes in different shapes. It was also a reason why his father never sold the unit and also the reason his father usually lived at the other flat while in New York. Too many bittersweet memories, Lucas knew.

His Chinese take-out arrived later on and he ate in silence, occasionally looking up to watch the news.

All of a sudden he wondered what it would be like to date someone he genuinely liked or loved. It had only happened once in high school. He had been a heartbroken fourteen-year old once. He wasn’t necessarily traumatized. It just made him more careful. He imagined embracing some faceless female and he sniggered, shaking his head. There was no room for mushy thoughts like that.

But deep inside, he was wishing for it.

Chapter Three: The Heels Have Done Their Trick

His brother couldn’t come and neither could his father. He had settled his brother’s deal the day after he’d blown his stack in the office. He gave the credit to his brother and Michael was thankful enough to buy him a 24-karat pen with his name engraved on it. He had a lazy Sunday all to himself, driving to the Hamptons (specifically Montauk) and staying in their empty vacation house.

There he drank a few bottles of his father’s collection of vintage wines, careful to choose the less expensive ones. Charles Conrad loved his wines and had one whole basement dedicated to it. He had a reason to be so relaxed that Sunday.

Two weeks later, a quick press conference was set up for Lucas’ baby retail project: Trekker. He was pretty early that day, taking a train down to the hotel where the conference was set. Alice ‘tsked’ about as she went on ahead in his car. He told Alice his nerves were getting to him, a good reason to take the train and walk. He hoped it would turn out well. He had to admit he was nervous. It was a rather large investment on his part.

He had arrived at the hotel two hours before the ten a.m. event and had coffee in the lobby. Then he walked around the lobby and around the hotel’s indoor pool and small garden. Dressed in dark jeans, a black coat, and a grey shirt with the Trekker logo on it and sneakers, he was nearly unrecognizable as a businessman and a successful one at that. He was still trying to calm his nerves when he saw a few people he recognized were from the media. He quickly ducked out of sight, going inside an empty tea room. He heard a shuffling noise. Someone sighed.

He cautiously moved about the room. He stopped in place behind a pillar. Did someone from the press see him?

He saw a slim woman with long, wavy dark brown hair. Her back was turned on him.

“Is someone there? Selma?”

She wasn’t from the press, then. He slowly walked away from the pillar. She spotted him just as he was about to open the door.

“Who are you?” her voice rang out.

He turned to face her with a sheepish grin. “Got into the room by mistake. Sorry.”

“What agency are you from? Are you spying on us?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Who are you?” her voice was more annoyed this time.

“No one,” he replied, feeling displeasure rise up in him too.

She walked toward him awkwardly. Clearly she wasn’t used to wearing stilettos. Suddenly she tripped and gave a gasp. Without thinking twice, Lucas reached out for her and caught her by the elbows just before she fell; if he hadn’t caught her, she would have hit the floor face-down.

“Oh god!” she muttered as he helped her up.

“You okay?”

Their faces were inches away from each other. He got a closer look at her. She had on black framed glasses and very fine features; her nose was perfect against her oval face. And her eyelashes were pretty long, so long that they nudged against her lenses.

Her cheeks were splayed with pink. “I am so—”

“Sorry? Yeah. It’s fine. Don’t you know how to walk in heels?” he joked.

She frowned and her lips pursed as she straightened her skirt and then her eye glasses. “I can manage walking in heels, thank you very much.”

“Sure, sure. Pretty obvious you don’t know how to.”

“Thank you for helping me, but you may annoy someone else now.”

“I’m annoying you?” he said mockingly.

“Are you too thick to even realize that?” Was he for real? He was infuriating!

“I’m hurt,” he said, placing a fist on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “But you really are annoying,” she added.

“How young are you?” he asked as she tried to walk past him.

She didn’t answer.

“Why can’t you walk in heels? I’m sure you’re old enough to—”

She frowned again. “I can walk in heels fine. But I like my running shoes and flats. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other more important things to do.”

“You’re excused,” he said facetiously. “What’s your name?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and left the room carrying a box. “It’s ‘Stay Away’,” she replied. Man, that was too harsh, but he deserved it. Jerk.

“I can help you with that box,” he called out.

She didn’t respond. The door closed with a slight bang. He smiled.

She was interesting. He smiled and shook his head. He had one more hour to go before the press conference. His phone rang.

“Alice?”

“Sir, where are you?”

“In the hotel, hiding from the press.”

“Well. if you could show yourself since I’m in the hotel, too.”

“Fine. Can we meet up somewhere that’s not in the press room?”

“How’s about the tea room at the third floor?” Alice suggested.

“Excellent. Meet you there in a few.”

This time Lucas was careful to use an elevator near the garden. Alice was waiting for him in the sparsely filled tea room, holding up his laptop bag and a few files. A few gentlemen were smoking cigars in the far corner.

“Honestly,” Lucas began. “I don’t understand why we have to have this press conference when we only have—”

“Your father thought it would be a good idea.”

“Couldn’t this have waited? It’s just models for Pete’s sake.”

“Good business for you and Temperley, sir.”

“I meant we could have had a grand press conference.”

“Which will happen in a month.”

“Say Alice, I need a favour from you. I’m looking for someone. I have a feeling she works for Margo,” he suddenly said, filled with a crazy idea.

“Did she do something to vex you?”

“No, I need you to do something for her. She seems a bit gullible enough if you say the right things. Do we still have those yoga pants and shoes on hand? I want her to wear them.”

Alice’s eyebrow rose. “You’re not kidding?”

“No, I mean I do, but this time I’m not.”

“All right. What does she look like?”

“Pretty cute.” Pretty damn cute, he added as an afterthought.

“Well that helps a lot now, does it?”

“She wears black framed glasses, around five-three in height. Dark brown hair, slim figure, terrible with stilettos—”

“That won’t be too hard to find,” Alice chortled.

“Tell her what you want, just make her wear them.” God, I hope she wears them!

“You do know that the two models chosen by Margo have already worn their athletic gear?”

“Trust me on this,” he said. “Get her name and text it to me.”

“When have I ever doubted your eccentricity?” she sighed leaving.

He checked his watch. Thirty more minutes. He ordered a mug of hot tea, trying to calm his nerves. He kept telling himself that all would go well. It wasn’t a grand press conference anyway, but there were a lot of media personnel, more than what he expected. He also hoped that the woman he had just met would wear the yoga outfit. As soon as he finished his tea and paid for it, he went down to the conference room, ready to face the crowd. A text message came. Alice had come through. He smiled in triumph.

He entered the back door to the conference room. The room had a cavernous ceiling with modern features and large glass panes and two sparkling chandeliers. The room was large enough for a hundred people and there were close to seventy in the crowd. From across the hall, he saw the woman he had bumped into earlier wearing a yoga outfit.

She doesn’t look bad at all. She has curves in all the right places, a tiny waist and firm looking muscles, he thought, gazing for a few more seconds. She looked like a classic Hollywood actress sans the glitz and glamour. More like a girl-next-door look, one you could like easily.

She still wore the glasses, and looked uncomfortable in such a snug outfit. She was with Margo Temperley who looked every bit as surprised as the young lady beside her. He saw Alice explaining and Margo just nodded with an odd expression on her face.

Lucas’ marketing director for Trekker went up the podium
.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I’d like to welcome you to the media launch of Trekker, the trendiest sports apparel to grace America!”

There was a round of applause and the director continued talking about how Trekker came to be and what their plans were for the year. As soon as he finished his short introduction, he called on for Lucas. This time, Margo and her two models and her assistant (in yoga gear) were near the stage.

“I’d like you all to welcome our Chairman for Trekker, Mr. Lucas Conrad.”

Lucas took a deep breath and gave a shy smile as he stepped up on the podium. There was a resounding applause, specifically from the female reporters and writers. He heard some giggle and squeal on how attractive he was in person. Photographers clicked away.

Alex’s eyes narrowed, looking at the man. A sudden terrible realization hit her.

“Thank you everyone for coming,” he began. There was a boyish and charming quality about him that drew people’s attention. “I guess my director for marketing took most of my speech away already…”

The crowd laughed appreciatively.

“Trekker is aimed for the young and young at heart. This was born out of a necessity to have an active lifestyle with gear that is reasonable on the wallet. I’m honoured to work with Ms. Margaret Temperley of Temperley Models. She has been gracious enough to provide us a beautiful model, the face of Trekker for 2012.”

Margo looked proud as people acknowledged her and her models.

Another round of applause.

The models with Margaret smiled at the photographers. Margo blinked. It was in singular form, not plural. She thought he wanted two, though the contract wasn’t complete yet…

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the face of Trekker- Miss Alex Forbes.”

Margo’s eyes widened as did the models, as did Trekker’s director for marketing. Alex’s eyes widened most. What the hell was going on?

Alice nudged Alex to go up the podium, removing her eye glasses. Alex did so with reluctant baby steps. Did they hear it right? Did she hear it right? This was some kind of sick joke. The man she met at the empty room…he was turning the tables on her because she snubbed him. He was the owner! He was the damned owner of Trekker! He was Lucas Conrad! She felt her cheeks burn as she stood stiffly and gave a forced smile.

“
Oh my god. Oh my god
,” she thought over and over again.

The crowd gave her reluctant applause. She wanted to melt, disappear forever. She was going to get fired for sure. She dreaded facing Margo and everyone else at the office. Lucas held her shoulder.

“Miss Forbes has been gracious enough to join this media launch from her very busy schedule. We have recognized her as the perfect face for Trekker because of her active lifestyle and her zest for balancing hard work and play.”