Behind Those Glasses: A Lukas Hart III Story

Chapter 1

Early October 1990

Although I put up with these meetings I never really enjoyed them much. Out of boredom I studied the people sitting at the table. Most of them were seemingly lifeless men in newly tailored suits, with a few women attempting to fix their makeup. How uninteresting. Moving on to the end of the table, however, one did catch my eye.

The first thing I noticed was the brown tinted glasses, then his brown blonde hair. The hair by his temples were just beginning to gray, even though he couldn't have been older than my father by more than two years. I knew that he was a friend and business partner of Father's, usually called Lukas. He wasn't usually present at every meeting, which is why I didn't know much about him. His face wore a slight scowl as he looked over some documents in a file folder, either about preparation for the campaign or some business contracts. Suddenly his eyes shifted sideways to meet mine, and I swore I saw him smirk quickly before returning his focus to the paperwork with the scowl once again. My face turned a little pink as I quickly faced the other direction to see Father walk into the conference room.

"Good morning everyone," Father announced cheerfully as he took a seat at the head of the long table. "As we're all here I might as well confirm everyone's positions in the campaign staffing and the Pennsylvania tour."

He began assigning roles to the people at the table, as I began to zone out.

This is definitely going to take a while...

"And (y/n)?"

I nearly jumped at my name. Nearly invisible in every meeting, that's the first time my father has even mentioned me.

"Y-yes?" trying desperately to hide my surprise.

"I'd like you to assist Mr. Hart over here," gesturing at the man with tinted glasses, "as a deputy campaign manager." It took all my willpower not to show any shock on my face. "I would like you to learn from him the inner workings of campaigning since he will be the campaign chairman."

"Yes, father."

Father raised an eyebrow, dissatisfied with my reply.

"Yes, sir."

Only then did he move on to the next person.

Great. Now I have to put up with another one of Father's snobbish friends for the rest of this campaign.

Secretly I rolled my eyes and turned the other way just to lock eyes with Lukas.

His eyes, although appearing cold and calculating, had a strange charm as he looked curiously at me, and for a moment I thought I could see a hint of warmth within those cold eyes.

"That will be it for this morning then. Why don't we close with a prayer?"

Everyone instinctively bowed their heads, with me following along with everybody else. I felt Lukas' gaze on me as I opened my eyes a sliver, watching him continue to peer at me before he followed along and also bowed his head.

"Dear Lord, thank you for giving us this opportunity to fight for the prestigious position of the senator of Pennsylvania. May you give us the power to strike down our enemies and win this election. Amen."

"Amen," muttered everyone in unison before leaving quickly.

As a crowd exited the only ones left in the conference room were Mr. Hart, Father, and me.

He got up from his seat and walked toward Father, shaking his hand. "I would like to thank you," said Mr. Hart, "for giving me such an honored position as your campaign chairman, and even providing me with an assistant," nodding toward me standing beside them.

"Of course, Lukas. You have been such a reliable friend and it is only fair that I reward you with an assistant after all your work in Broken Dove," he replied.

Next Mr. Hart strolled toward me and kissed my hand.

Well, at least he's very gentlemanlike~

"Lukas Hart III. It will be a pleasure to work with you, Miss Roberts."

"It's actually (y/ln), sir."

"I believe during the meeting you called Mr. Roberts your father," he frowned.

"Technically she is my daughter," Bob said behind him. "I just wouldn't like any rumors flying around since I have Polly already, that's all."

He cocked an eyebrow as his confusion increased.

Father went to pat him on the back. "It will be clearer in the future. It's a long story," he insisted.

Seeing Lukas' slow nod he began to exit the room.

"We should hurry on to the Pride then. I refuse to be late to the first concert of our tour," my father mused, turning his head only slightly to direct his suggestion toward us and then continuing down the stairs. Immediately, Lukas and I rushed to follow behind him.