Make a Wish
She sang along with the blaring radio, her hand tapping on the steering wheel in time to the music.
"…get this party started
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
Pumpin' up the volume, breakin' down to the beat
Cruisin' through the west side
We'll be checkin' the scene
Boulevard is freakin' as I'm comin' up fast
I'll be burnin' rubber, you'll be kissin' my a—"
The radio clicked off and she removed her keys from the ignition. She looked through her windshield up at the stone mansion, her jaw hanging open in awe as she sat trying to comprehend how huge the place was. "Unbelievable," she mumbled to herself. She'd thought that everyone had been exaggerating when they said how big Luthor Manor was. All it needed was a moat surrounding it to make it look like some kind of medieval castle.
She got out of her old Chevy S-10 pickup and walked up the stairs. She raised the knocker and a butler came and opened the door. He stood, gazing down his long nose at her. "May I help you?"
"Hi," Lauren said, smiling. She tucked a stray piece of her short blond hair behind her ear. "I'm Lauren Miller, from the Make A Wish foundation. Maybe you've heard of us?" She paused, flashing him another bright smile. "We're currently looking for donations so I'd love to speak to your boss for a moment if he is available."
The butler relaxed his stance slightly, his face creasing with a slight smile. "I read in the paper about some of the things you've done. That little boy in the article that needed the heart transplant sounded so thrilled to go to the Super Bowl. It was just perfect that his team won." He drew himself up again, suddenly realizing that he was gabbing like an old woman. In a more monotone voice he continued, "Mr. Luthor is very busy but I will see if he has time to see you." He let her in and escorted her to a dim room to wait.
And wait. After about 15 minutes, she got bored and started to pace the room. She wondered if it was intentionally kept dark and gloomy to put people on edge. It was working. She walked over to the window to look out into the sunlight. She pulled the curtains one side and smiled as the bright sunshine hit her face. As she gazed out the window, she also began to wonder if the butler had totally forgotten about leaving her in here.
Lex listened to the dial tone for a moment before he slammed the phone down, swearing under his breath at his father. "What is it?" He snapped at the butler when he finally realized he was standing in the open door.
"There is a Ms. Miller downstairs waiting to see you, sir," he responded.
"Does she have an appointment?"
"No sir, but—"
"Then why did you let her in? Didn't I tell you I wasn't to be disturbed this afternoon?"
"It's for a good cause—"
"Oh great, someone else looking for money. Like this doesn't just make my day complete," Lex grumbled aloud to himself. He stood, waving the butler away and leaving the room. "Never mind, I'll take care of it myself. She'll be gone in no time."
"Too dark in here for you?" a voice softly asked from right behind Lauren. She jumped, the curtain slipping from her fingers. It fell back across the window to again hide the dwindling sunlight as she spun around in shocked surprise.
"Do you always sneak up on your guests like that?" Her eyes flashed. He wasn't at all what she had been expecting. She eyed his bald head, not sure what kind of statement the poor little rich boy was trying to make by completely shaving his head. Maybe he was trying to look tougher.
"Not my invited guests." He smiled but it sent a chill down her spine instead of putting her at ease. She decided that he didn't need to shave his head to be menacing.
She opened her mouth with a scathing comeback about how that was no way to treat guests regardless of who they were, including a few choice adjectives, but then remembered why she was here and closed it, nearly having to literally bite her tongue to keep quiet. "Think of the kids," she kept repeating in her head. "Think of the kids."
"I'm sorry to be taking up some of your valuable time, Mr. Luthor." She took a few steps toward him and extended her hand, pasting on her brightest 'saleswoman' smile. "I'm Lauren Miller, from the Make A Wish foundation.
He inclined his head. "Ms. Miller."
She cleared her throat. He certainly wasn't making this any easier for her. She supposed he got requests for donations all the time. Of course, with all the money she'd heard that his family had, it's not like they couldn't afford it. A tiny grin escaped at the thought.
Unfortunately, he saw it. "Is something amusing, Ms. Miller?"
"Not at all," she stalled, her mind racing. Even though he was a total jerk, she couldn't risk alienating him if she planned on helping those kids. "I was just thinking how beautiful this room would look with a little more natural light," she lied, gesturing towards the light escaping from edges of the curtain. She then walked over to the window and again pulled the heavy curtain aside. "Don't you think so?"
"Personally, I happen to like it," he answered, his voice indifferent. "Did you come here to redecorate my home?"
She blushed. She supposed have him think his house needed redecorating was better than just telling him what a creep she thought he was like she wanted to. Time to get back to business. "Actually, I am here on behalf of the regional Make A Wish foundation."
"Really." He crossed his arms and stared at her.
"Yes," she replied. "Are you familiar with it?"
"No."
Not exactly encouraged by his one-word answers so far, she paused to take a deep fortifying breath before starting into her spiel. "The Make A Wish foundation grants wishes to children that are sick with life-threatening illnesses. With the help of generous donations from men such as yourself, we do our best to fulfill what could possibly be a child's last wish, whatever it may be. Don't you think a dying child deserves a little brightness in their life?"
"That's very good. The dying child deserving some brightness bit really goes for the jugular." He took two slow steps forward, stopping barely an inch away, and glared down at her. "Tell me, did you even bother to stop anywhere else for donations or did you just drive straight here?"
She straightened up to her full 5'4" height, which unfortunately was still significantly shorter than he was, so she had to crick her neck to glare back into his blue eyes. "I've spent the entire afternoon in town, not that it's really any of your business."
"How much money have you collected?"
"I'm afraid that information is confidential."
"Even if I offer to triple what you've already received?"
"Will you?"
"I guess you won't find out unless you tell me."
"You know," she snapped, "if you don't want to make a contribution, why don't you just say so. I've got better things to do with my time."
He reached out, caressing her cheek. "I'll give you $10,000 to spend the night,"
She swatted his hand aside. "You're crazy," she snapped. "You obviously don't even like me, and you're asking me to stay?"
He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "I'll also give you $10,000 for the foundation." His steely eyes locked onto hers, as if trying to read her mind. He waited for her to agree, so he could then tell her that he'd changed his mind. He couldn't wait to see the expression on her face. He almost laughed aloud. It wasn't much, but considering the afternoon he'd just spent dealing with his father, he'd take his small amusements where he could.
He watched the indecision cloud her gray eyes for a moment before they cleared and she finally answered. "No, thanks." She walked across the room and grabbed her purse off the sofa. She wanted to run from the room. Instead she steeled herself and turned back to face him, pasting on her most insincere smile. "I want to thank you so much for taking the time to see me."
"But I haven't even finished my negotiations yet," a tiny smile barely cracked his poker face. "Everyone has their price."
"There are some things I just won't do for money."
"You were thinking about it."
"Yeah," she admitted. "That would've been a lot of money for those kids." She glared up at him. "Forgive me for stopping to think about how many kids that could've helped."
"Not to mention the money for yourself."
She snorted, gray eyes locking onto steely blue. "That would've gone to the kids, too."
"Of course it would have."
She rolled her eyes at him and headed for the door. He grabbed her arm and spun her back towards him. "How do you think it would look if I registered a complaint about you to the foundation?" He asked, trying to intimidate her.
"Go right ahead," she snapped. "And you can make that offer to the lady in charge too while you're at it. Her name's Mabel. She's about 65 and her husband passed away a year ago. She might be open to your negotiations." She pulled her arm from his grip and was headed through the doorway when she heard his laughter. She spun back around. "You think this is funny?" She glared at him. "It's all a big joke to you." She shook her head in disgust.
"No," he replied, wiping the smile from his face. "Actually, you surprised me. That doesn't happen very often. It never ceases to amaze me what people are willing to do for a lot less money than what I offered you. It was a refreshing change."
He walked past her through the doorway. "Wait here a minute. I'll be right back."
She stood, leaning against the doorjamb. She wasn't going back in that dreary room. She debated whether to just take off before he came back. God only knew how he planned to insult her next. Although she supposed she could put up with a couple insults for the good of those kids.
Lex finally returned and held out a piece of paper to her. She took it from him, reading the check. She eyes flew to him in shocked surprise. "$25,000?"
"I figured it could get put to good use."
"Uh, yeah," she said, still kind of dazed. "Thank you."
"You can still stay for dinner. No strings attached. I'm sure my cook has whipped up something delicious. Or maybe you just want to leave now that you have gotten what you wanted from me."
"Would you blame me, after the way you've treated me from the moment we met?"
"I beg mercy on the court," he said, holding up his hands. "I can only plead temporary insanity after having a terrible day. I'm sorry, it's still no reason to take it out on you," he apologized. "I do promise to be on my best behavior."
"I'm not sure it would be a good idea," she replied. "I do thank you for the donation, and the invitation, though."
He pointed to the check in her hand. "I could always increase my donation if you decided to join me for dinner."
"Money means everything to you, doesn't it? Don't you know that the best things in life are free, Mr. Luthor? Like a beautiful sunset."
He took her hand. "Come with me for a minute."
She held back. "I don't think that's a good idea."
He flashed the most charming smile in his arsenal. "Just give me ten minutes."
She sighed. "Ten minutes," she slowly agreed. "That's it."
She followed him across the house and up a couple flights of stairs until they finally came out onto the roof. With a flourish, he gestured to the sky. "You're sunset, madam."
She ground her teeth in frustration. What was with this guy? "I've really got to go."
"You're going to miss a beautiful sunset," he teased, looking up in the sky.
She glanced at the orange sky. There were some darker purple clouds streaking across the reddish sun. It was beautiful. She sighed and walked over the edge, leaning down and resting her forearms on the flat cut stone. It still felt warm from the recent sun beating down on it. Lex joined her and they watched in silence. As the last of the orange sun dipped behind the trees in the distance, Lex again asked in a soft voice, "Join me for dinner?"
A squeaking door drew their attention to the other side of the roof. "Hey Lex, I hope you don't mind that I just came on up," Clark said and came striding across the roof, "your butler said I could find you up here." He stopped short when he saw Lex wasn't alone. "I'm sorry, I'm not interrupting, am I?"
Lauren turned to face him. "Clark, is that you?" a surprised voice asked.
"Lauren?" he responded and rushed over, surprise clearly etched on his face. "What the heck are you doing here?" He bent down, giving her a bear hug and kiss on the cheek as Lex looked on, unable to believe Clark's incredibly bad timing.
"My god Clark, it is so good to see you." She teased, "I think you've grown a foot since I last saw you."
"Maybe a couple more inches," he admitted.
"You two know each other?" Lex asked, not believing his luck.
"Oh yeah, Lauren's father and my dad were like second cousins or something and they went to school together. She and her father used to come down and visit almost every weekend and we used to go riding. I haven't seen her much the last couple years though, since her father died in that car accident..." he trailed off, eyeing Lauren.
"Yeah, I've missed going riding." A wistful smile appeared and her eyes grew distant. She smiled in remembrance. "There's nothing like having the wind blowing through your hair as you're flying across an open field, without a care in the world."
"Clark, did you stop by for anything special?" Lex interrupted.
"Oh, I just brought over the fresh squash and corn that your cook had ordered from mom and figured I'd stop and say hi." He turned to Lauren. "You've got to come over for dinner. Mom and dad will be so upset if they find out I saw you and didn't drag you over."
Lauren laughed. "All right. Wouldn't want to get you in trouble, now would I?"
Clark put his arm around her shoulders, heading for the door. "They're going to be so glad to see you," he said looking down at her. He turned back for a second, "See ya later Lex," he threw over his shoulder.
She glanced back at Lex while Clark nearly dragged her to the door. "Family," she explained to Lex with a helpless gesture. "You know what that's like."
"Yeah, I know," he answered, his voice even, as they disappeared through the door.
Lex stood on the roof, alone. Like always. He was used to it. He strolled over to the edge, resting his hands on the rough stone and looked down into his driveway. He watched them both drive away into the growing darkness.
But he didn't know. Part of him, deeply buried, wished he did.