Page 63 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Lake, I think you know he likes you. He’s just a guy. I bet from the dawn of time, guys have been running away from commitment. My brother surely has.”

Her bright-blue eyes bulge. “You have a brother?”

Don’t panic. Just keep smiling.“Yeah.”

“Older or younger?”

I’m caught in a moment of confusion. I never should have mentioned I have a brother. And I certainly don’t want to talk about Max.

I slap myself on the chest. “Are we really talking about me right now? My brother is my brother. And he’s awfully boring. The question is, what are you going to do about Mason?”

She narrows an eye. “You think he has commitment issues?” Suddenly, she groans as if a vexing thought just dropped into her head. “You think he has mommy issues? I bet he does. Of course he does. All guys do!”

I chuckle as I stab a fork into my tepid salad. Lake seems to be all I need to take my mind off of blowing it with my boss, Hercules Valentine. “You’re overthinking it. Just ask him out and see what he says.”

I wink at Lake as she gnaws on her bottom lip. I’m eating my salad in peace. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem suspicious of me after hearing Hercules say he saw me eight days ago. Mason didn't seem suspicious either. Maybe him being skeptical of me is all in my mind. I'm the only person who knows for certain that I'm a mole—and I’m not going to out myself. The best thing I can do is relax, enjoy my job and my new friends, and perform my duties to the best of my abilities. And now that Hercules has a girlfriend, I don’t have to think about him either. I’m free. I’m unburdened. I’m happy.

Lake’s still frowning thoughtfully as she taps the table with her index finger. Then she abruptly stops and sits up straight. “Do you like art?”

Throughout the rest of lunch,we talked about Lake’s plan to invite Mason to her art show at the Skylord building on Thursday night. She also extended an invention to me, and of course, I accepted. I kept her talking about herself so she wouldn’t ask more questions about me—I’d reached my quota of lies for the day. I learned so much about her, though. For instance, she graduated with a degree in computer science from Carnegie Mellon University and then came to New York to start a job at another company. The job sucked, so on a whim, she applied to New York University’s Institute of Fine Arts and, to her surprise, was accepted. She took out massive loans to cover her tuition and rent. Her father, who insisted she apply his kind of commonsense approach to picking a career, never knew she’d quit working to attend school full-time.

“He paid for my first degree, but I knew he wouldn’t pay for the second. He still doesn’t know I’m an artist.”

What I took away from our conversation was that her parents were just as controlling as mine. But Lake has a unique perspective on her parents being the way they are. “I don’t hold it against them. They just don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I asked.

“Contrary to how they feel, I wasn’t born to make them happy. I’ve never made them happy, and I never will. So, I don’t hold their controlling ways against them. They’re only human, and I love them to death.”

I’m still pondering Lake’s words when Mason walks into the office, frowning as if he’s just gotten into a fistfight with Hercules and lost. He even avoids eye contact with Lake. When I look at her, she’s giving me lost-puppy-dog eyes.

“Don’t anyone bother me,” he announces and closes himself in his office.

Everyone in the room goes back to business as usual except Lake and me. The corners of her mouth are turned down as she shrugs. I glance over my shoulder in the direction of Mason’s office, concerned about how his meeting went with Hercules and what’s her name. I hate that I’ve already forgotten her name. My memory is normally better than this. Maybe my brain is forgetting her on purpose. Deep down, I wish she wasn’t so connected to Hercules. I wish I was the one he touched with such ease. The fact that it can never be me unless it’s over my family members’ dead bodies makes me feel even more sour.

I decide to do what’s best for me and Lake at the moment. I don’t want to think about Hercules, who’s obviously getting it on with…Damn it.Her name continues to elude me.

The less Lake thinks about Mason, the more she won’t feel crushed by him either. Killing two birds with one stone, I call our team together so we can let work take our minds off men and prepare for our big staff meeting on Thursday, which will be a day before I’m supposed to pitch winning ideas to Hercules in private.Yikes!

I shoot to my feet and clap my hands.“Okay, let’s powwow,” I say so loudly that the picture of Hercules with his hand on Lilith Cope’s back momentarily vanishes from my mind.

Time to Go Home

Okay, so the elevator is definitely the only sucky part about working at VTI. It’s crowded, and regardless of the fact that there’s no room to add another sardine, it stops on just about every floor on the way down. Trying to not blow my top about my current circumstances, I force myself to concentrate on how well our team meeting went. When it was over, just when I’d put Hercules in the back of mind, Mason stepped out of his office, looking pale and weary, and gave me Hercules’s cellphone number. My eyes grew wide when I looked it. It was the same phone number he had in high school. Mason was distracted by whatever was bothering him and didn’t seem to notice my surprise. I’ve been doing a sucky job of pretending that I don’t have a past with the only man I ever pictured as my Prince Charming. Now I can’t stop my mind from repeating the phone number over and over.

Yesterday evening, I walked out of the building with Lake, but she said she planned to stay and work on an interface for a video game that I wasn’t familiar with. I knew it was an excuse to wait around for Mason to walk out of his office. She wanted to formally invite him to her show on Thursday night.

The elevator stops, and the doors open. Even this late in the day, eager employees are waiting to fight for a spot inside after we, the sardines, vacate. As soon as I’m out of the tin, I can breathe easier.

But I halt walking just as fast as I started when I find myself staring into Hercules’s eyes. His smile is delicate. With all the bodies zipping past me, I’m wondering if I should say something first.

“Have a good evening, Lark,” he says.

Everybody is looking at me simply because he’s watching me. Of course people pay attention to the mighty Hercules Valentine. With a face and physique like his, I bet he gets noticed wherever he goes.

“You too,” I say probably three seconds too late. And I sound strained.

“Oh, good night, Lark,” Lilith says cheerily, waving.