8. Clara

CHAPTER 8

CLARA

C lara spent much of the taxi ride to Luis's apartment finding new ways to tease him about not having a house. When the driver dropped her off at a downtown high rise, she forgot every single one of them. The building was beautiful, and she caught her breath when the doorman finally let her in. The floors were marble and echoed the sound of her footsteps. Above her was probably the highest ceiling she'd ever seen with brass details all around it. The place felt like a palace.

"Okay maybe it's a nice building," she muttered, "but it's still an apartment." She perched on a chaise longue in the lobby and added, "In San Francisco," conceding to an argument no one other than her had even bothered to make.

Soon enough, she spotted Luis striding toward her as though he owned the whole building rather than one little apartment. Maybe he was proud. Nothing wrong with that, she thought. After all, this was only a marriage of convenience. It wasn't like she was going to have a real relationship with him, and who cared if your business partner was a little over proud of his San Francisco apartment? If he was covering her fertility treatments, he could have boasted about living in a shed out back, and she would have just shrugged it off.

"Ready to see your new home?" he said when he reached her. He held out his hand to help her stand, and once again Clara was treated to just how handsome the man really was. It was as though she'd forgotten after only a few hours, and now that she was in his presence again, feeling the easy atmosphere around him, and noting the warm brown of his eyes, she realized just how much she wanted to kiss him again.

She tried to shake off her attraction and act a bit more aloof. "I haven't agreed to move in yet," she said.

"Oh, I think you will, though. I'm willing to bet on it."

"How much?"

Luis laughed and led her past a row of elevators to one around the corner just beyond them. The door to it was gold instead of silver, and there were little flourishes in the corners, too. Luis used an electronic key on the controls and they opened immediately. He invited her in with a gesture. "My Lady. Your chariot awaits."

"What, is this a private elevator?" Clara laughed as she entered, but only part of her bought the joke. She couldn't fathom another reason why he would walk past the others to this one. Maybe he just liked the decorations better? He was showing his apartment off, after all. Of course he was going to bring her attention to all the best parts. But then there was the key, and the fact that they just kept going up without stopping on any of the floors. She'd be an idiot not to accept the fact that they were well on their way to?—

"The penthouse." Luis answered her question without even realizing it. "Not just an apartment." He grinned at her as the elevator doors opened, and she stepped out into a world of absolute luxury.

The first thing she noticed — because it was impossible not to — was the fact that every exterior wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows. In the center of the living room space, surrounded by the most comfortable-looking furniture she'd ever seen, was a floating fireplace. The chandeliers were modern but gorgeous and so classy. The place felt huge, probably because it was huge. She pictured herself curling up on the couch with a warm blanket and a cup of hot coffee on a cold winter morning, watching the fire dance in the fireplace. It was so high above the city, so quiet, and so peaceful. And so clean. How did he keep it so clean? She was used to the chaos of her own apartment. Being rich probably made it easier to stay organize somehow. Then she had a thought that made her eyes pop. Maybe he had a maid. Oh, who was she kidding? He definitely had a maid.

"Do you like it?" Luis said from behind her.

"Like it?" She turned to face him. "When can I move in?"

His face lit up. "Is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes! I'd marry the apartment itself if you gave me the opportunity."

Luis frowned for a moment, but his mood picked back up quickly. "Let me show you upstairs."

"There's an upstairs?" How hadn't she noticed the beautiful wood-and-glass staircase ascending along one wall of windows.

"Where did you think I slept?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe a bed just descends from the ceiling and floats in front of the fireplace." She ran to the stairs and started up.

"Tell me again why you aren't in interior design," Luis said, following behind her.

"No idea. Maybe you can put a good word in for me with the other penthouse owners."

"Never." Just as Clara reached the top of the stairs, Luis wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. She could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered. "I'm keeping you all to myself."

At the top of the stairs was the master suite. There wasn't even a separate room for it, just the bedroom right there, facing the wall of windows. Clara guessed that, when you're this high up, you probably aren't too worried about privacy. What surprised her most about the bedroom was how colorful it was. The rest of the penthouse had modern, white and beige, clean décor. It's the look Clara had noted in every image of a penthouse she'd ever seen in magazines or movies. But the bedroom was dark wood, oranges and yellows. There was color everywhere, warm and vibrant color. It looked nothing like the rest of the place.

"Why is it so different up here?" she asked.

He answered, "Just a little taste of home." His voice was low and melancholy.

"When was the last time you went home?"

"Too long," he murmured, still holding her in his arms.

"And where is home exactly?"

"Colombia." He spun her around and smiled. "You should come with me someday. Meet my mother. She'll be so happy I found a nice girl to marry." He laughed.

Clara glared at him playfully. "I haven't said yes yet."

He gestured to the whole penthouse. "You're really going to turn all this down? I will give you everything you've ever wanted, Clara. And believe me when I tell you I can."

She pretended to hesitate, but they both knew what her answer was going to be long before she said it. "So when can I move in?"

Luis pulled her in and hugged her so tight, she thought he might actually believe this was going to be a real marriage rather than the business arrangement they'd agreed upon. Maybe he was just committed to the bit. "Stay tonight. Have a friend bring your things tomorrow."

Clara wanted to say no, absolutely not. This was way too big of a life change to be jumping into as casually as she if she were picking an ice cream flavor on a warm summer day. But his bed looked unbelievably comfortable, and she hadn't had a good night's sleep in days. "Can my sister come over tomorrow?" she ventured.

"Of course she can." Luis gave her a charming half smile. "It's your home now. Invite whoever you want. I just have one little request."

"And what's that?"

"I have a TV interview at one p.m. tomorrow, and I want you to watch it."

"Okay, sure. But why?"

He winked at her and started down the stairs. "You'll see."

"And just where are you going?" she called after him.

"To sleep on the couch," he answered, turning back for a moment. "We're all business, remember? I'll get a ‘guest' bed tomorrow, but for tonight, my bed is all yours. Spare toiletries are in the bathroom. Help yourself."

Clara laughed and hugged herself. "A perfect gentleman, eh?"

He waved a hand as he continued downstairs. "Only as long as you want me to be."

Her blush could have lit the darkened room all by itself.

By the time Clara woke up the next morning, Luis was already gone. It was strange, waking up in someone else's house and having to remind yourself that you live here now. She immediately texted Dawn, who told her she'd be there in a half hour, and went to take a shower. The bathroom was the epitome of luxury with beautiful tile mosaics, a shower with multiple shower heads, and a large soaking tub.

Clara dressed in a robe that felt like wearing an actual cloud and planned to wait for her sister to show up with her clean clothes. Downstairs, the coffee machine waited for her with a cup and a note explaining which button she had to push, or if she preferred, she could call for an on-call housekeeper to help. The view in the daytime was spectacular. There was something special about looking out over the city to see the water beyond. No wonder rich people felt so above it all. They literally were.

At around noon, Dawn showed up with the housekeeper, both of them dragging bags of Clara's things into the apartment. Clara ran over to hug her sister. "Thank God you're here," she said to Dawn. "I need someone to pinch me and tell me I'm not dreaming."

Dawn took a long look around the place. "If you're dreaming, then so am I, and may we never wake up again." She dropped Clara's bags beside the staircase. "Wow! How did this happen? Tell me so I can follow in your footsteps."

"All you have to do is go to a dive bar, meet the owner of a popular brewery, and insult his beer. He'll be stuck to you like glue after that."

"I'll say!"

Clara showed Dawn all around the apartment, and Dawn had to touch just about everything. She turned on every faucet, opened every door, bent down and dug her fingers into every luxurious rug. She was like a kid in a candy shop. "Does he have a brother?" she finally said.

"Hmm. Come to think of it, I don't know."

"You don't know whether he has a brother, but you're already moving in together?" Dawn arched an eyebrow and folded her arms.

Clara glanced away. "Love at first sight?"

"Uh-huh. Love at first penthouse."

Clara slapped her sister on the upper arm. "I am not that shallow, and you know it."

"You're right. That's more like something I would do." Dawn laughed, but Clara knew she was only kidding. Her sister's relationship was one of the sweetest and strongest marriages she'd ever seen. Clara could only hope to have a connection as deep as that one day.

At one p.m., they sat on the couch and Dawn provided a bag of popcorn she had brought for just this occasion. It almost felt like home, sitting with her sister, watching TV and periodically tossing popcorn at each other. Clara briefly thought that she'd likely have to clean up, especially since she didn't really know Luis's feelings on tidiness. Although, after what little time she'd spent with him, he seemed to be a relaxed sort of person. And, she reasoned, he had a maid. He wouldn't even have to know. Either way, it was worth it to laugh with her sister after everything that had happened.

They watched the channel Luis had indicated they should watch, fully prepared to make fun of him in the nicest possible way. The interviewer began by asking him about his history, how he rose from a simple brewery owner to the business mogul he is today. She asked him about his recent acquisition, and Luis spoke of his appreciation for the little brewery he had acquired, how he wanted to preserve their culture while simultaneously giving them more resources to do what they do best.

Clara was only half paying attention, but her sister was suddenly rapt — no, shocked. "Luis Morales?" she said, her voice a thin gasp. "You're dating Luis Morales? Do you have any idea who that is?"

Clara shrugged and popped another kernel in her mouth. "A beer guy?"

"A beer guy." Dawn rolled her eyes and slapped Clara on the knee. "You never pay attention to current events, do you?"

"If by ‘current events,' you mean celebrity gossip, no." Clara had to admit to herself that she was getting a little irritated. "Tell me what I'm missing."

Dawn took a deep breath and began her revelation. "Luis Morales isn't just a beer guy. He's a billionaire beer guy. His company owns way more than just breweries, even though they started in that arena."

Clara's mind snagged on the word billionaire . Surely Dawn was exaggerating. "Okay, but seriously. How rich is he?"

"Sis." Dawn shook her sister by the shoulders to get her attention. "He's. A. Billionaire."

Clara just sat in silence for a while. She was stunned. Why hadn't he told her? She supposed he didn't want her to enter into an agreement with him just because of his celebrity status. Or maybe he was worried she would refuse him because of it. After all, any child she had while married to him would live a public life whether they wanted to or not. "He should have told me," she muttered.

On screen, Luis was looking into the camera, talking about his youth, growing up in Colombia, and how happy he was to be living in America. "If I had never come to this country," he said, "I would never have met the love of my life." Then, to Clara's ultimate shock and a little bit of horror, he leaned in and opened a small box. "And that's why I want to ask her…"

"Oh, no no no!" Clara shot up and shouted at the screen. "You take that back, mister. You didn't give me all the information."

"Clara Ashford…" Inside the box he held out was probably the biggest diamond she'd ever seen, glittering in the spotlight they likely had pointed at him. "Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?"

Dawn screamed, and Clara buried her face in her hands. "This can't be happening. What have I gotten myself into?"

"He proposed!" Dawn said after her shock had worn off enough for her to speak. "But you only just met him."

"It was love at first sight, I guess." Clara did not sound at all convincing.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"I'd be a fool not to, wouldn't I?"

Dawn didn't respond to that, but she didn't need to. The answer was obvious. Refusing Luis Morales, famous billionaire and "beer guy," would be a choice Clara could see herself regretting for the rest of her life. She flashed to a different possible future and saw herself with a man who was never home, working sixty hours a week while Clara raised their children in a one-bedroom apartment, if she could even afford that in this city. She saw her exhaustion, and if it got bad enough, she could see herself regretting ever becoming a mom.

If she said yes to Luis, however, she'd be taken care of for the rest of her life. She'd have help with her children. Maybe she could even take better care of her parents as they aged. No one in her family would ever want for anything ever again. Surely a little fame was worth that. She turned to Dawn and shrugged. "I guess I'll say yes."

Dawn narrowed her eyes. "Do you love him?"

Clara hesitated too long before answering. "Sure. I guess I do."