Never Underestimate Jamie Luther

It could have been an exaggeration but it wasn't . The scent of a thousand lilies filled the Back Bay brownstone, each perfect fiery orange bloom a silent promise of devotion. When a person has a mason for one for his homes, he would bring all his celebration home.

A dozen of servents dressed in navy blue uniform hung around the place. They would want until they are needed to make the day perfect. Anything for this perfect day.

"Happy anniversary love" Jamie muttered in practice.

He had done this three time before but each year felt more different.

Jamie straightened the silk tie around his neck, his reflection a fleeting ghost of perfection in the beveled glass of the bay window. Outside, Worcester hummed with a crisp mid autumn energy, the beautiful vibrant golden orang, brown and yellow atmosphere served a a colorful reminder to the color that was brought into his life by this time a couple of year back. Tonight was their fourth anniversary.

He glanced at his watch. 7:58 PM. Any minute now. A nervous flutter danced in his stomach, a sensation he hadn't felt since he was announced the heir to the Luther's Lock Interior design companies, or when he started his Biite.

"C'mon babe, where are you?" Jamie smiled as shifted his weight to one leg.

He smoothed down his tailored suit, the Brooks Brothers fabric doing little to calm his unease.

A sudden ping echoed from his phone. His heart leaped. It was Francesca, his wife.

'Running late, honey. Big meeting. Be there soon.'

A shadow flickered across his face. His brows connected as he tried to think fast. "Big meeting?" Jamie hadn't known about any meeting. Quickly, He typed a reply, masking his disappointment with playful emojis. He wanted to ask where in particular she was, but he didn't.

Great.

He wandered over to the baby grand piano, the ebony keys gleaming under the soft glow of the Tiffany lamp. He ran his fingers over them, a melody forming in his head – their song. Mind it or not, Jamie had always have a taste for good music. As a kid when his parents would go for Congressional Picnic or Rallies, Jamie would stay back to practice the piano. Creating sweet melodies.

The same melodies that made fate connect him and Francesca.

He remembered the night they met, a Harvard alumni gala, Francesca stood out in her firey orange dress. It was like love at first sight, for him.

But even then, a families clashed.

{Flashback}

"Jamie, darling, must you?" His mom, Eleanor Luther's voice dripped with thinly masked disapproval.

He knew she never liked Francesca, not just her, but his too father too.

"Marry her? Francesca you just met few months ago?" She intoned.

Eleanor stood stiffly in the doorway of his study, this very mansion. Her gaze sweeping over the Worcester Globe article he held. It was a photo of Francesca, accepting an award for her burgeoning tech company.

"Mom," Jamie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Francesca is brilliant. And she makes me happy. You said it yourself that loved matters"

Eleanor's lips pressed in disgust "She is a nobody. Her family don't even have political stands, they just made sure she went to Harvard, Jamie. Legacy is forever. You are a Luther. You have responsibilities, Like Susan, you will learn to love her"

"Learn to love? Responsibilities to be miserable?" He snapped, instantly regretting his tone.

Eleanor's eyes hardened. "Don't be absurd. But consider your future. Francesca... her family... they simply aren't our world."

{End Flashback}

Jamie shook his head, banishing the memory. He loved his mother, but her old-money values and arranged marriage often clashed with his plan. He believed in Francesca. He believed in their future. He understood his mother learn to love his unlovable father but he doesn't want to play such game.

The elevator doors chimed, slicing through the silence. Jamie straightened, forcing a smile. He grabbed the bottle of Shipwrecked 1907 Heidsieck from a waiting servant and walked to greet his wife with open arms, already filling the glasses.

The doors slid open, revealing Francesca. She looked stunning, her brunette hair cascading over her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling. But her cheeks were flushed, her lipstick slightly smudged. And she reeked of an expensive cologne that wasn't his.

"Happy anniversary, Honey," she said, her voice a little too bright, a little too breathless as she accepted her glass of champagne from him

Taking a a sip he stared at her, the lilies suddenly suffocating, the champagne turned sour as he gulped.

" Who was he?" The question escaped before he could stop it.

Francesca's eyes widened, a flicker of panic crossing her face. "No. What? Who... who was who, honey?"

Jamie masked his unease with a practiced smile, presenting Francesca with the champagne.

"Happy anniversary," he said instead, popping the cork. The sound echoed in the high-ceilinged room, a hollow sound in his ears. He was so in love, so eager to believe in their happiness, that the subtle tension in her shoulders went unnoticed.

Francesca's face lit up, her eyes sparkling with genuine delight. "Oh, Jamie, you shouldn't have!" She threw her arms around him, her embrace warm and familiar. He breathed in her scent –Floris Lily of the Valley perfume and something else he couldn't quite place.

"To us," she said, raising her glass. "To many more years of happiness."

He clinked his glass against hers, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "To us."

The rest of the evening went well. They ate the gourmet meal Silas, tye head chef in the mansion had prepared. They talked, about anything and everything.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, sinking into the plush velvet sofa. Jamie presented Francesca with her gift – a diamond necklace, its delicate chain glittering under the soft light. He selected and had it customized for her alone.

"Uh! Jamie! Babe, it's... it's beautiful," she breathed, her fingers tracing the diamonds. She fastened it around her neck, turning to admire herself in the mirror. "I like it."

She liked it, that was all that mattered.

Jamie lean closer to kiss his wife but she moved back. It was subtle but he did notice it. The thin disgusted line at he corner of her face as she forced her self to smile.

As if on cue, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, her expression shifting subtly. A smile bloomed on her face, a genuine, unguarded smile and totally different from her expression a few seconds ago.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice a little too casual. "It's... it's work."

She walked towards the balcony, her voice dropping to a murmur as she answered the call. Jamie watched her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes, dear," she said, her voice soft and intimate. "I miss you too... I know, I know, soon... I can't wait either."

Jamie's blood ran cold, but he dismissed it, attributing it to stress, to the pressure of his work. He was so eager to believe in her, to believe in them, that he clung to the illusion.

The call ended abruptly. Francesca turned around, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling.

"Everything okay?" Jamie asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Perfect," she said, a little too quickly. "Just... just finalizing a deal. Big things are happening, Jamie. Big things."

She walked back towards him, her smile radiant. But Jamie couldn't shake the image of her on the balcony, her voice soft and low.

Does she call her work people 'dear'? Or was he simply losing his mind?