“The Ferrari just wasn’t sending the proper message.” He thrust his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shifted from his right leg to his left. “I thought this might be a little more practical.
“It suits you.” I nodded.
He grinned like that was what he was hoping I’d say.
“So, uhm, were you planning on staying in?”
“Yeah. I am in for the night. But I just made myself some supper. Would you like to join me?” This would be interesting.
“Are you sure?” He straightened. “I’d love that.”
“Well, come on it.” I stepped aside. “Please, wipe your feet. I like to keep my house clean.”
“You have a beautiful home.”
"It's not a mansion." I snipped. "But it's mine."
Lucas looked at me nervously.
“What are we having for dinner?” He asked.
"Bologna sandwiches and potato chips," I replied proudly.
“My favorite.” He grinned slyly, taking one of the sandwiches off my plate and sitting down on the couch.
I sat down at the other end and left a good deal of space between us. We ate in silence as Humphrey Bogart was visited in his office by Lauren Bacall to help stop a man from blackmailing someone else.
“Tilly?”
“Yes, Lucas.”
“I love you.”
I kept my eyes on the screen.
“But I don’t have any money, Lucas. I’m not the girl for you.”
"Yes, you are." He insisted.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’d be willing to leave it all behind if you’d just say you’ll give me one more chance. I’d leave it all.”
I looked at Lucas and saw his eyes red with tears.
"I've hurt you so bad. I don't blame you for being skeptical. But if it takes five years, ten years, a hundred years I don't care. I'll prove to you that my love is true. There will never be anyone but you, Tilly."
I sat stone still and stared at the television. Before I could move Lucas scooted closer to me. He took my hand in both of his and stroked it gently, holding it to his cheek then squeezing it before looking again at my face.
When I turned to him I smiled. I couldn’t help it. But I didn’t say a word.
“But there is one thing that we need to do.” Lucas wouldn’t let my hand go.
“What’s that?” I whispered.
“Well, I’ve been such a jerk that I’ve never asked you out on a real date.”
“You’re right.” A smirk crept across my lips. “Airport food doesn’t count.”