Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Chose the Repairman
Charles Harrison did not sleep well that night.
He had known Richard Montgomery for almost thirty years.
Not closely.
They had competed for contracts, attended the same charity dinners and, years earlier, briefly considered partnering on a real-estate development.
Charles knew enough to understand the magnitude of Richard’s request.
“Don’t tell your daughter.”
Why?
Charles had asked.
Richard had paused.
“My son is trying to learn something I failed to teach him.”
“What?”
“How to know when someone loves the man instead of the name.”
Charles had stared toward the family photographs on his office wall.
One picture showed Emily at age six sitting on her mother’s lap.
Another showed her graduating from college.
Another had been taken the year Emily almost married Daniel Prescott.
Charles understood more than Richard realized.
“My daughter has the same problem.”
“I know.”
Charles frowned.
“You know?”
“I know who the Harrisons are, Charles.”
There was irony in Richard’s voice.
Then he added, “If Lucas tells Emily himself, that’s his choice. But please don’t expose him.”
Charles agreed.
Barely.
The next evening, Lucas met Emily at a diner in downtown Maplewood.
He had expected her to choose somewhere expensive.
Instead, she arrived wearing jeans, boots, and a jacket.
“You’re disappointed,” she said.
“Why?”
“You thought a Harrison would insist on white tablecloths.”
Lucas smiled.
“I thought no such thing.”
“You absolutely did.”
“Maybe a little.”
They slid into a booth.
Emily ordered a cheeseburger.
Lucas stared.
“What?”
“I expected lobster.”
She threw a napkin at him.
He laughed.
For the first time in years, dinner felt effortless.
They talked about movies, childhood fears, bad music, and whether pancakes qualified as dinner.
Emily told him she loved painting but rarely showed anyone her work.
Lucas told her he once tried to learn guitar and gave up after realizing he had “the musical talent of a damaged washing machine.”
Emily laughed so loudly that two people turned around.
Lucas loved the sound.
Then she asked, “What was your family like?”
His smile faded slightly.
“My mother died when I was seventeen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She was the kindest person I’ve ever known.”
“And your father?”
Lucas leaned back.
“Complicated.”
“Close?”
“Closer than we admit.”
“What does he do?”
There it was.
A harmless question.
A dangerous answer.
“Business.”
Emily nodded.
“What kind?”
“A little of everything.”
Technically true.
Lucas hated himself for how carefully he was speaking.
“What about you?” he asked quickly.
Emily noticed the subject change but allowed it.
“My mother died eight years ago. My father became… more protective afterward.”
“That sounds difficult.”
“He means well.”
“But?”
“But sometimes love and control wear similar clothes.”
Lucas understood that too.
They left the diner after ten.
Emily glanced toward his truck.
“You really drive that?”
“Don’t insult Walter’s finest vehicle.”
“The passenger door has three different colors.”
“Custom design.”
“And is that duct tape?”
“Structural reinforcement.”
Emily laughed.
Lucas drove her toward the Harrison Estate.
Halfway there, the truck coughed.
Then died.
Lucas coasted onto the shoulder.
Emily looked at him.
“Professional repairman?”
“Quiet.”
“You repair machines all day.”
“Apparently not this one.”
They laughed again.
Lucas opened the hood.
Emily joined him.
“You know you can wait inside.”
“I want to help.”
“In those boots?”
“They’re perfectly functional.”
Five minutes later, Emily’s hands were dirty.
Lucas stared at them.
She shrugged.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your reputation would be destroyed.”
She smiled.
They managed to restart the truck.
But instead of immediately driving away, they stood beside the road under a wide field of stars.
Emily looked upward.
“You can’t see this in New York, can you?”
“Not like this.”
“Do you miss it?”
Lucas considered.
“Some things.”
“What?”
“My father.”
“Anything else?”
Lucas thought about his penthouse.
Restaurants.
Private flights.
Boardrooms.
None of it came to mind.
“No.”
Emily looked at him.
“You really did leave something behind.”
“Yes.”
“Was it a woman?”
“No.”
“A job?”
“In a way.”
“A mistake?”
Lucas smiled sadly.
“Maybe.”
She stepped closer.
“I’m not trying to interrogate you.”
“I know.”
“You just seem like someone carrying a life he doesn’t talk about.”
Lucas’s heart tightened.
He almost told her.
He could have ended the experiment right there.
But fear stopped him.
Not fear that Emily would reject him.
Fear that everything would change the second she knew.
“I’m trying to become someone I can respect,” he said.
Emily’s expression softened.
“You already seem like someone worth respecting.”
That sentence stayed with him.
They stood in silence.
Then Emily kissed his cheek.
Small.
Unexpected.
Real.
“Good night, repairman.”
Lucas smiled.
“Good night, fake-dishwasher customer.”
Their relationship grew quietly.
Lucas worked.
Emily found excuses to visit Maplewood.
Some were better than others.
A toaster.
A lamp that Lucas reminded her he was not technically paid to repair.
Once, she brought him lunch and sat on a workbench while he repaired a dryer.
Walter pretended not to watch.
“You two are disgusting,” he announced.
Emily laughed.
Lucas rolled his eyes.
But beneath the happiness, a problem grew.
Charles Harrison knew.
And Lucas did not.
One Friday evening, Charles asked Emily into his office.
“You’ve been seeing the repairman.”
Emily stiffened.
“His name is Lucas.”
“Lucas.”
“Yes.”
“How serious?”
“Dad.”
“I’m asking.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you hurt again.”
Emily’s face changed.
Daniel Prescott.
The name didn’t need to be spoken.
Daniel had proposed two years earlier.
Three months before the wedding, Emily discovered that Daniel had secretly approached Charles about receiving a senior role in the Harrison company after the marriage.
He had been marrying a ladder.
Not a woman.
“I’m not discussing Daniel.”
“I didn’t say Daniel.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Charles sighed.
“What do you know about Lucas?”
“That he’s kind.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“He works hard. He doesn’t care about the estate. He doesn’t care about my money.”
Charles almost laughed at the cruel irony.
Instead, he said, “People can hide things.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“You know something.”
Charles froze.
“About Lucas?”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“I’m reminding you to be careful.”
Emily left angry.
That night, Lucas called his father.
“You sound happy,” Richard said.
“I am.”
“That terrifies you?”
“A little.”
Richard chuckled.
Lucas sat at his tiny kitchen table.
“Dad, when do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That someone’s real.”
Richard was silent.
Then he said, “When they see you at your weakest and don’t use it against you.”
Lucas looked around apartment 3B.
“I don’t know if she’s seen my weakest.”
“Give it time.”
“You’re unusually philosophical tonight.”
“I’m old.”
“You’re sixty-seven.”
“Ancient.”
Lucas laughed.
Then Richard coughed.
Not a normal cough.
Deep.
Persistent.
Lucas frowned.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“That didn’t sound fine.”
“Stop mothering me.”
“Someone has to.”
Richard changed the subject.
“How’s work?”
Lucas let him.
After the call ended, however, Lucas remained uneasy.
He opened the kitchen drawer.
The sealed envelope was still there.
He ran his thumb across it.
Don’t open it until you truly need it.
He closed the drawer.
The following week, Emily invited Lucas to a community fundraiser.
“Nothing formal,” she promised.
Lucas arrived at Maplewood Community Center wearing a clean button-down shirt.
He stopped when he saw nearly two hundred people.
Emily rushed toward him.
“I may have underestimated the word ‘small.’”
“You think?”
She smiled.
Then Lucas saw Charles.
The older man watched him from across the room.
Their eyes met.
Charles approached.
“Lucas.”
“Mr. Harrison.”
“I hear you and my daughter have been spending time together.”
Emily stepped between them slightly.
“Dad.”
Lucas stayed calm.
“Yes, sir.”
“What are your intentions?”
People nearby suddenly became very interested in their drinks.
Lucas looked at Emily.
Then Charles.
“I care about her.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“It’s the only answer I’m comfortable giving.”
Charles almost smiled.
Almost.
Before he could respond, another voice came from behind Emily.
“Well, this is interesting.”
Emily went pale.
Lucas turned.
A handsome man in an expensive suit stood nearby.
Early thirties.
Perfect hair.
Perfect smile.
Predatory eyes.
Emily whispered, “Daniel.”
Daniel Prescott looked Lucas up and down.
“So this is him?”
Emily’s jaw tightened.
“You weren’t invited.”
“I’m a donor.”
Daniel ignored her and extended his hand toward Lucas.
“Daniel Prescott.”
Lucas shook it.
“Lucas.”
“No last name?”
Lucas paused.
“Just Lucas is fine.”
Daniel smiled.
“How mysterious.”
Emily grabbed Lucas’s arm.
“Let’s go.”
Daniel called after them.
“Emily.”
She stopped.
“I’m happy for you.”
She turned slowly.
Daniel’s smile sharpened.
“Really. Dating the help is very… charitable.”
Lucas felt Emily’s hand tighten.
Before he could respond, Charles spoke.
“That’s enough, Daniel.”
Daniel held up both hands.
“Just making conversation.”
Lucas left with Emily.
Outside, she looked furious.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“He had no right.”
“Emily.”
“He thinks money gives him permission to humiliate people.”
Lucas looked back through the windows.
Daniel was still watching them.
Lucas said quietly, “People like that eventually reveal themselves.”
Emily’s eyes filled slightly.
“That’s what scares me.”
“What?”
“I thought Daniel loved me once.”
Lucas touched her cheek.
“I’m not Daniel.”
She looked into his eyes.
“Promise?”
The word struck him.
Because Daniel had lied to her.
And Lucas was withholding the largest truth of his life.
He couldn’t answer immediately.
Emily noticed.
“Lucas?”
“I promise I’m not Daniel.”
It was true.
But not enough.
She kissed him.
Inside the community center, Daniel approached Charles.
“Interesting boyfriend.”
Charles ignored him.
Daniel continued.
“You know who he is, don’t you?”
Charles turned sharply.
“What are you talking about?”
Daniel smiled.
“I saw your face when you looked at him.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?”
Charles walked away.
But Daniel had spent years around wealthy families.
He knew secrets when he saw them.
That night, he searched Lucas’s name.
Nothing.
He searched New York businessmen named Lucas.
Too many.
Then he searched photographs of billionaire families.
Twenty minutes later, he stopped.
On his screen was a photograph from a financial magazine.
Richard Montgomery leaving a Manhattan conference.
Walking beside him was a younger man.
Daniel leaned forward.
The resemblance was undeniable.
He read the caption.
Richard Montgomery and his only son, Lucas Montgomery, heir to the Montgomery Global fortune.
Daniel slowly smiled.
“Oh, Emily.”
He printed the photograph.
Then he whispered to himself,
“You finally found a man who doesn’t want your money.”
Daniel picked up the page.
“Because he has more money than you.”
But instead of calling Emily, Daniel opened a new email.
The recipient was a reporter in New York.
The subject line contained only five words:
May you like
I FOUND THE MISSING BILLIONAIRE HEIR.
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