Asher, though, he sounded like he wanted children. He'd even asked me if I would consider being an egg donor for his wife. Except she wouldn't want to carry any child to term, so I'd need to do that, too. Was that really donating, then? There were obviously ways to do something like that, but the situation seemed so far out there and strange that I couldn't wrap my head around it.
What would I say? What was my answer? I'd put off thinking about it, unsure how to respond to him, except I needed to meet with him for lunch in...
Crap! Too much daydreaming, Jessika, I told myself. With nothing proper to wear to a classy place like The Simple Path, I snatched the chemise dress Asher gave me yesterday and put it on. Perhaps it was a little more casual than their typical patron's garb, but it was the best I owned at the moment.
The dress was patterned silk, with a picture of a cloudy sky on the topmost part, and a grassy green field from the waist down, ending at the middle of my thighs where the skirt stopped. A beautiful, vibrant red rose bloomed from the grass and up towards the sky at my right breast. It was eye-catching and amazing. I hoped, for whatever reason, Asher found it the same.
There had to be a reason he asked me on a lunch date, right? Something more than needing to hear my answer to his question about bearing a child for him and his wife. The way he talked, it sounded like they had a rocky relationship. But could I be content in acting like some mistress to him, if that was the case? He hadn't even offered a situation like that. I couldn't accept it, anyways. I had standards and morals. If he tried to convince me of it, I'd have to turn him down. Except, maybe if...
I shouldn't think these things, and I knew it, but it was hard not to. I was always a dreamer at heart, loving books and becoming lost in them. That's what led me to this in the first place. My terrible choice of college degree brought me to a temp agency for work, which resulted in me cleaning the Asher Landseer's office, and...
He liked literature, too, though. And maybe...?
Dammit! If I'd left five minutes ago, I might arrive on time. "Might" being the key word. Now I was definitely going to be late, and I still needed to finish my makeup. Why was I wearing sexy makeup to a casual lunch date?
I couldn't understand it, myself.
...
Asher stood in front of the mirror, checking himself over. He had an appropriately casual suit; dark blue with a silvery undershirt. A matching blue tie collared him and kept him from putting on properly casual airs, so he slipped it off and tossed it to the floor.
He wondered, really wondered, why he was going through with this. Why had he asked Jessika to father his children? Not that he required her to do much more than be a donator for his infertile wife, but to help sweeten the deal with Beatrice he'd asked if Jessika might be willing to carry the child to term, too.
And her answer? Well, why didn't they just have sex! She said it more shyly than that, a certain sense of demurity in her manner, but the audacity of it. Or, what others might think as audacious, at least. Asher had thought quite long and hard about her proposal.
Really, why had he done what he did yesterday? Yes, he was upset about her destroying his book. Granted, he knew it wasn't really her fault, and an antiquarian might be able to restore the book to its previous, undestroyed appearance. It wasn't even about the book, though. He loved the book, appreciated Dante's Inferno and Dante's intent behind writing a work of that nature, but...
There were more books in the world. More copies of Dante's Inferno, too. Probably even a copy exactly like the one she destroyed. It was expensive, but he could afford it.
He'd been on end, though. Nerve-wracked. Beatrice's trip to the doctors kept him anxious. He knew what she wanted out of it, and she'd gotten exactly that, but what did he want? He wanted a family, children, a normal household, somehow, amidst his wealth and otherwise abnormal life.
Jessika was normal, in a way, but then again, she wasn't. Asher recognized it in her immediately. He had a flair, some otherworldly knack, for understanding intelligence, and Jessika definitely had what he wanted. Women cared so little for reading these days, or so it seemed. Perhaps he only based his judgments off of Beatrice and her callous disregard for anything bookish. They had a magnificent library at home, with every sort of book imaginable, and yet she rarely bothered to go in there.
And, truth be told, she rarely bothered to remain at home, either. How many years had it been now since they'd started trying for a child? Only one, but it seemed far longer. They'd tried, seriously tried, only a few times during that year, too. He'd almost chalked it up to unavailability, but in some scheme of hers she'd suggested a visit to the doctors.
He understood the reason immediately. She didn't want children, but felt obligated as his wife. He could respect that. With this, with medical confirmation, she'd absolved herself of those marital requirements, though. But then, he thought, what else was there?
He'd met her through an arrangement between his mother and his mother's associate. He and Beatrice hit it off fairly well from the start, but she always kept herself reserved. At first he thought it was a privacy issue, where she was guarded and cautious, but after four years of marriage he'd learned that was just how she was.
Not with everyone, though. With most, and with Asher, but she had acquaintances who she acted more sociable around. More... herself? Asher wondered sometimes if he actually knew her. He knew things about her, knew what she liked and disliked, and other tidbits of information that lovers knew, but he didn't know if he really knew Beatrice.
And he absolutely knew he didn't know Jessika. Jessika seemed more... real... though? He chalked it up to a fascination. In all likelihood, she was more attracted to his money than him, and he understood that. Nothing wrong with it, per se, since he realized that was the life he lived. It was difficult to find people who appreciated the smaller things in life as opposed to those who desired a higher monetary existence.
Silly for him, the CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise, to think this way, but he didn't care. That was how everyone rich thought, wasn't it? Woe is me, everyone only wants me for my money.
Suck it up, Asher, he told himself. No one cares about your ridiculous billionaire problems.
He fetched his cufflinks from a drawer in the top of his dresser and pinned them into the cuffs of his silver dress shirt. Perfect. He had just enough time to arrive early for his and Jessika's lunch date at The Simple Path.
...
I scrambled out of the taxi after tossing the driver a twenty. I was about to rush off, to hurry towards The Simple Path and apologize profusely to Asher for being late, but some part of me held off. I only owed the driver eight dollars, and a twelve dollar tip seemed excessive. His wide smile turned into a miserly scowl as he doled out my change. To be fair, I handed him a few bills back, but he still looked annoyed at being shortchanged from his previous generous tip.
Oh well, I thought, can't please everyone, right? I was on a roll with that today and it seemed like I wasn't going to please anyone, though. I reached into my purse and checked my cell phone for the time. Nine minutes late for my noontime lunch date with Asher.
I hurried into The Simple Path. A man greeted me at the door, stopping me with a friendly smile and a hasty shuffle to block my way inside. I reminded myself this wasn't a typical restaurant. I couldn't just look through the tables and head over to my friends, moving past the front door man with hardly a word.
He kept up that friendly smile while talking to me. "May I help you, miss? Do you have reservations?"
I nodded fast. "I'm here for Asher?" I wasn't sure how this was supposed to go, but that seemed like enough information.
"Asher?" he asked. Turning to a ledger on his podium, he gave it a cursory glance. "Can you be more specific?"
Really now? Asher wasn't the most common of names. If he had more than one on his list, I'd be surprised. "Asher Landseer?" I offered.
The man nodded and looked up from his listings. "Alright. Will you wait here a moment?"
I nodded. Yes, of course, where else would I go? He called someone else over and whispered into the other man's ear. They both gave me a strange look. Why? I didn't know. Maybe this was what they did in fancy restaurants? Part of the appeal? It really didn't strike me as all that appealing, but who was I to judge against tradition.
When the other man walked off, leaving me alone with the man at the front desk, it suddenly dawned on me. Yes, Asher was here, and I knew this, but they didn't know he'd invited me. For all they knew, I was some deranged stalker, or a seductive assassin, or who knew what else. Paparazzi? I had no camera, except... no, I had my cell phone, so I technically did have something I could take discrete pictures with.
The idea amused me. I was Jessika Fevrier, essentially no one of particular importance. I mean, I thought I was important, but compared to someone like Asher, to these people I was nothing. But they didn't know that, and so I had my current status upgraded to a suspect for possible trouble. I amused myself with those thoughts while I waited for the other man to return.
I expected this all to be taken care of in short order, and it was, except...
Along with the other man who'd ostensibly gone to question after my authenticity, Asher returned, too. He gave me a bright, brilliant smile, then patted the man behind the ledger desk on the shoulder.
"This is my guest for the afternoon," he told the man. "The lady, Jessika Fevrier. Sorry for the confusion. I should have waited for her before seating myself, but it must have skipped my mind."
"Oh, Mr. Landseer," the man said. "No, no. My apologies. I didn't recognize your...?" He stumbled, clearly thinking I must be someone of importance that he'd failed to notice.
"Acquaintance," Asher said, rather more firmly than I thought necessary. "Ms. Fevrier? Shall we?"
He held out his arm. I was too dumbstruck and confused to realize I should take it. Not to mention disappointed. I knew I shouldn't expect anything, but being relegated to acquaintance? That was barely better than "a random woman I met off the street." In fact, I might've liked that one more, since at least it had an air of mystery about it.
At a smile and a coaxing from Asher, I put my hand around his arm and let him take the lead. We walked through The Simple Path, past elegant dining tables with rustic, wooden chairs, towards the back of the restaurant. I didn't know what to expect upon first stepping foot into the place, but I definitely didn't expect the string quartet playing music off to the side. There was a small, squared off area for dancing, too, except it looked like dancing was currently not in fashion because everyone steered as far away from the dance floor as possible. The tables farthest away from the musicians were filled to capacity, but the ones closest looked empty and abandoned. Odd, since I would have figured those would be the best seats.
Asher brought me to a section in the rear with private rooms. Not even really a room, but a little alcove big enough to seat a handful of people, with a cushion directly on the floor and a table so low that to sit at it we'd need to cross our legs or sit with our feet straight out. I wondered which was the more proper way and waited for Asher to sit so I could watch and learn.
Except, lady's first. Dammit! The one time I didn't want a gentleman, and here I was, with someone who would never act unchivalrous. I stepped towards the cushion, unsure and slow, staring at the floor.