98 Separate Agendas at the Springs
“Uncle Lacas!” she squealed, launching herself into his arms. “Did you bring me
something?”
Our eyes met briefly before I closed the door, shutting out her smirking face and the complicated dynamics of the household below. In this room, with my work and my meal, I had created my own space–a separate agenda entirely from whatever social games were playing out downstairs.
Early, not unexpected. So this had been planned all along.
“Mom, can I show Uncle Lucas the gaming room?” Cora asked, already pulling Lucas
toward the door.
I closed the window, not wanting to hear their arrival or the inevitable warm greetings Damien would offer Vivienne. Instead, I called room service and ordered dinner to be delivered directly to my room.
“That’s actually why I’m calling,” I said, excitement building as I explained my idea. “If we combine their sensory feedback mechanism with our existing framework—”
“Would you like me to set up in the dining area, Mrs. Thorne?” the staff member asked
over the phone.
Lucas’s eyes flickered over me, taking in my robe and wet hair. “Elara,” he greeted, his smile calculated. “Enjoying the springs?”
“That’s nice,” I said evenly. “Cora will enjoy having everyone here.”
“Is it?” Lucas grinned. “Damien invited me days ago.”
The room felt different without Eleanor’s determined optimism. I tucked a strand of wet hair behind my ear, acutely aware of how out of place I felt in my robe while everyone else was fully dressed.
I met Eleanor’s eyes briefly, understanding passing between us. She hadn’t known about this arrangement, which meant Damien had deliberately sabotaged her efforts
to orchestrate our alone time.
“Of course,” I replied, relieved for an excuse to retreat. “I’m going to change.”
12:20
1/5
on Gepersha Agendas at the Signings
I can have initial projections ready by Monday, Julian said. “I’m still in New York, but I’m catching an earlier flight back tomorrow.
1 smiled at his unnecessary clarification. “Obviously. Safe travels, Julian.”
Eleanor appeared behind them, her expression failing to hide her disappointment at finding Lucas there. She glanced between Damien and me, clearly realizing her plans for our romantic evening had been disrupted.
Outside my door, footsteps passed by–light and confident. Vivienne’s walk. I remained still, waiting until the sound faded completely before taking my first bite of food,
savoring the quiet independence of my solitary meal.
We continued discussing the technical details, the conversation flowing easily between us as it always did when we talked about work.
Once inside, I leaned against the closed door and exhaled slowly. Vivienne. Of course. This weekend was never about Eleanor’s matchmaking attempts–Damien had planned his own gathering all along.
“Lucas,” she said, her voice tight with forced politeness. “What a surprise.”
The sound of male laughter drifted through my window–Damien and Lucas on the terrace below. I moved closer, not intending to eavesdrop but curious nonetheless.
I sat at the desk, uncovering my dinner and turning back to my laptop. The weekend stretched ahead, but I had my focus clear: Work, not Damien. Progress, not pretense. And certainly not the performance of a happy family for Eleanor’s benefit or anyone
else’s.
I stepped away from the window, not wanting to hear Damien’s response. Lucas had it all wrong–I wasn’t fighting against the divorce. I was fighting for my dignity, for a fair settlement, for Cora’s well–being. The divorce itself was inevitable and necessary.
“No, thank you. In my room will be fine.”
“Lucas,” Damien acknowledged with a nod. “You’re early.”
“It’s a date,” he replied, then added quickly, “A work date, obviously.”
He answered immediately. “Elara! I was just about to send you more information on that neural interface tech”
12:21
2/5
98 Separate Agendas at the Springs
Spreading out the documents, I immersed myself in work, finding comfort in the complex problems that required my full attention. The world of algorithms and innovation had always been my sanctuary, especially when my personal life felt
chaotic.
I changed quickly, peeling off the damp red bikini and replacing it with comfortable loungewear. As I hung the bikini to dry, I wondered if Eleanor knew about these additional guests. Her disappointment suggested not.
He said this while looking directly at me, clearly gauging my reaction. I kept my face neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me affected.
Lucas’s eyebrows raised slightly at my lack of response, but I was already moving toward my room, my fingers clenched tightly around the ties of my robe.
I froze. Lucas Sterling sat comfortably in one of the plush armchairs, looking completely at home. His unexpected presence caught me off guard, but the lack of surprise on Damien’s face told me everything I needed to know.
Twenty minutes later, a gentle knock announced the arrival of my dinner. I opened the door to find a server with a covered tray.
Lucas laughed, reaching into his pocket to produce a small trinket box. “Would I ever forget?”
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out first, eager to create distance between Damien and myself. The corridor stretched before us, and I walked quickly, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps. I needed to change out of this ridiculous red bikini as soon as possible.
Before I could respond, Cora came bounding into the room, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Lucas.
“She didn’t seem bothered,” Lucas was saying. “I expected at least some reaction when
I mentioned Vivienne.”
“Perfect. Let’s meet for lunch when you’re back.”
As I ended the call, I heard the distinctive sound of a car pulling up outside. Curious, I moved to the window again and saw Beck’s luxury SUV stopping at the entrance. Vivienne emerged first, her tall figure elegant even in casual clothing. Beck followed, carrying several bags.
12:21
3/5
98 Separate Agendas at the Springs
I thanked him with a generous tip, relieved to have food without needing to face the gathering downstairs. As he left, I caught a glimpse of Vivienne ascending the stairs, likely heading to her own room to freshen up.
As we approached our suite, a familiar voice called out from the lounge area.
returned to my work, letting the numbers and projections fill my mind. Below, I could hear the faint sounds of conversation and laughter growing louder as Beck and Vivienne joined the others. Cora’s excited voice occasionally rose above the rest, her happiness evident even from a distance.
As I turned to leave, Lucas called out, “Oh, by the way, Beck and Vivienne are on their way too. Damien invited them.”
I settled at the desk with my laptop, determined to use this time productively. My emails showed several updates from Julian about the technology exposition he’d attended yesterday. The innovations he described sparked an idea–something we could potentially integrate into our current project.
An hour passed in focused concentration before I reached for my phone, dialing Julian’s number.
“Damien! There you are.”
Elara’s POV
“We could reduce the processing time by half,” Julian finished, his voice matching my enthusiasm. “That’s brilliant, Elara. Absolutely brilliant.”
“Your dinner, Mrs. Thorne,” he said politely, wheeling the cart into my room.
“Elara’s not one for public displays,” Damien replied, his voice neutral. “She never has been.”
Eleanor sighed deeply. “Well, I really must be going. Clara needs me.” She kissed Cora’s forehead and squeezed my hand. “Don’t forget what I said,” she whispered to Damien before departing.
“Still,” Lucas persisted, “for someone who’s supposedly fighting against a divorce, she’s remarkably calm about you inviting your girlfriend to a family weekend.”
