“Send her up.”

His eyes scanned the area.  The entire floor had been gutted, the partitioned off providing office and living space.  He’d decided to have her to meet him in the apartment area but now he was questioning this wisdom in inviting her here.  Regardless of his indecision, it was too late to make a change.  Lucien walked to the elevator, and he adjusted his clothes.  He inhaled deeply, and with the intake of air, he reminded himself of the importance of this meeting.  He didn’t just like this woman; somehow thoughts of her scrolled in his brain like a perpetual loop.

Cling...cling; went the elevator.

When the doors opened, Ona stood on the lift, completely out of her element.  Lucien noticed this, so he was swift on the mark; greeting her and not giving her the chance to feel out of place.

“Ona...”  He used a familiar term because this is what he felt in his heart.  He offered her his hand, when he said...

‘Welcome to my home.”

Ona was taken aback because when she’d agreed to come, she’d thought this meeting would be conducted in an office.  She looked pass him, and she could clearly see a sitting area, and the room had a homy feel.  Her mind filled with misgivings but the thoughts didn’t last for long.  She stepped aside because Lucien had joined her in the elevator.  Now, her confusion doubled.  He smiled, then he said...

“When we spoke last night, you made it clear that you had a timetable to adhere to.”

Ona tried to recall the conversation, when she noticed the closing elevator doors.  Lucien said...

“The ferry... You said that you have to be on the last ferry.”

Being in his presence was so overwhelming.  His cologne.  His good looks.  His annunciation.  Him.

Ona collected herself and she said...

“Yes.  That is correct.  I must be on the last ferry.”

“Fine.”  He said.  And in the next second, the doors to the elevator spread wide, and they were in the lobby again.  He stepped off, and he waited for her to join him.  When she did, they walked and he said...

“I thought that perhaps the best place to talk is at the property that I think will be the best place to relocate your program.”

Lucien’s strides were long, but he paced them so as not to leave her lagging behind.  Ona didn’t know what to say, so she thought it best to remain quiet.

When they walked through the lobby, then out onto the street, they were met by another limo and another driver.  Lucien spoke to the man, but the entire exchange didn’t register with her because, Lucien had overtaken her.  They were entering the car, when a woman’s voice stopped them.

“Lucien...”

Ona turned and she noticed two women quickly approaching them.  They were on Madison Avenue, and all around her, she could sense an air of wealth.  Ona wanted to fade into the background, but she felt Lucien’s hand bracing her elbow.

He spoke to one of the women, saying

“Chantel...I didn’t realize that you were still in the city”

“Manners brother.  Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Lucien’s sister had seen pictures of Ona Zelle, but on the photos she’d been bandaged and broken and based on those images; the woman standing in front of her was nothing short of a walking miracle.  A beautiful walking miracle at that.  Now she understood her brothers sick futile fascination and when he didn’t do the introductions, she did...

“Hello, I’m Chantel Delors-Windsor and this is Marisela Pettier.”

Lucien said...

“Ona, Chantel is my sister and Marisela is a close family friend.  Ladies...please meet Ona Zelle.”

Ona noticed a frown from the other woman.

Chantel said...

“And as for your question brother dear...there has been a change of plans.  Marisela and I wanted to get a little shopping in, then ate lunch at Barney’s.  Now we’re headed to her flat, then it’s off to the helipad.”

Chantel’s gaze set on Ona but her remark was directed to her brother...

“Clive and I are flying to The Hamptons with Marisela.  We’re spending the Memorial Day weekend with her and her parents at their house.  What are your plans for this weekend?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Marisela brushed aside a lock of blond hair, when she said...

“You’re more than welcome to come.  Actually, I had meant to call you since our last meeting.  I wanted to thank you for your advice after my parent’s dismissed their team of lawyers and investigators.  If it weren’t for you, I would have given up too.  But after our conversation, you persuaded me to follow my gut.  So...I hired a new team of private investigators.  I wanted to thank you for giving me hope.  You were right to remind me that Tollin would never kill himself because he had too much to live for.”

Lucien refrained from showing his annoyance.  He didn’t have to look at his watch to sense the clicking passage of time.  His time spent with Ona was limited and this conversation was not a part of that plan.  In spite of his schedule, he couldn’t completely dismiss Marisela because she’d taken Tollin’s death the hardest and he genuinely wanted to help if he could.

He said...

“I have a few contacts in the districts attorneys office.  Call me next week, after the holiday.  I’ll make a few calls if you think that it’ll help.”

Marisela placed her hand on his arm, wrapping her delicate fingers there when she said...

“You are such a dear Lucien.  I really wish you would reconsider and join us this weekend.  It just won’t be the same without you.”  Her eyes pleaded with him, and if he’d been alone, he might have given in.  But he wasn’t alone and he casually stepped back until her hand fell away.

Lucien guided Ona to the limo.  He urged her towards the limo opening while distracting his sister and her friend with gracious platitudes.

“Maybe next time--but please give my best to your parents.  And Chantel--tell Clive that I’m still waiting for that handball game.”

“Lucien...”

His sister called his name, but he didn’t answer.  He smiled and when he was partway in the limo he said...

“Sorry, can’t talk now.  I’ve got to go.”

He slammed the door, even though he accepted that he would be asked to explain his actions later.

The limo pulled away from the curb, navigating through the rush of early holiday traffic.  All around them, people were moving, trying to finish their business, get home or get out of the city.  This wasn’t the first time Ona had seen this, but it was the first time she’d experienced it while riding in the back of a limousine.  Her brain was collecting information, and she was trying to make sense of things.  Then her brain locked on Marisela--and the strange way she peered at her.

She wasn’t sure where she’d gathered the nerved, but Ona asked a question.

“That woman--is she someone special to you?”

“My sister?”  He said.

Ona didn’t have any right to question him but she couldn’t shake the image; the way that woman looked at her, then at him.

She said...

“No...not your sister.  The other woman.  Is she your intended?”

She asked because he’d been invited to join her and her parents, and she didn’t fully understand Non-Samaritan cultures.

Lucien practically choked when he said...

“Intended?”  He remembered the word from his research.  Intended was a person chosen for marriage.  His body revolted, because Marisela definitely wasn’t his choice.

Lucien shifted in his seat to face her.  His eyes held a serious expression when he said...

“Ona...I don’t have an intended...and I am not engaged to be married.”  He painted a finer brush over his point.

“That other woman is a friend to my sister.  Our families are good friends.”

He didn’t say anything further mainly because her brow had been raised, and he watched as it lowered, leveling out.  As he’d stared at her, he still couldn’t get over how amazedly beautiful she was.  And she didn’t have on a lick of makeup.