Chapter Three: Trouble

Jane Austen once wrote: "Surprises are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable." I used to like surprises, but getting older and starting a family adds value to the predictable. The only welcome surprise is no surprises at all.

Gino's was as lavish as the card suggested it might be; a large, open plan dining room with high ceilings and reproductions of famous renaissance paintings adorning the walls. The waiters moved quickly and silently between the tables, the picture of professionalism. Around them, a selection of the rich and famous - the Hollywood glitterati - takes meetings and dines with friends.

At the door, Gino himself welcomes diners. He had known Lucas and Peyton were coming, he knew that they were family to Andy and, because of that, he treated them like his own children. He was in his ate fifties, overweight, and almost stereotypically Italian. The food had forever changed Lucas' standards; it was by far the finest Italian meal he had ever tasted. As he finished his glass of wine, he looked into Peyton's eyes. She looked happy and relaxed, the most relaxed he'd seen her since Sawyer was born.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"Desert."

"You just ate desert!"

"I didn't mean that kind of desert," he smiles, drawing a laugh from his wife. He loved to hear her laugh; it was the one sound in the whole world that could take all of his troubles away at once. And in moments like this, where he didn't have any troubles-

His cell phone began to ring. It was Lindsey. He wondered what she could possibly want; she'd told his that she couldn't be his editor anymore. He hadn't heard a word from her since she left Tree Hill, though he'd heard that she wasn't taking the news of his marriage to Peyton well.

Peyton grabbed his phone from the table. "What does she want?"

"I don't know."

"You're not going to answer it?"

"Wouldn't that be kinda weird?"

Peyton shoots him a look, the one that simply says 'I trust you, you idiot.' He answers.

"Lindsey? Hi!" He immediately wonders if he sounds too friendly.

"Luke, hi. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Luke takes a look at Peyton. She's texting.

"No."

"Good. Listen, I've been told to call you; you're supposed to be working on a new book, but nobody has heard from you for weeks. I mean, I know you've just got married and you're a father now and everything but-"

There was a tinge of sadness in her voice. He knew this was hard for her.

"Lindsey… are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, Luke. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, this is kind of strange, isn't it?"

"Luke, I'm over it, seriously," for some reason, her words hurt him a little, "and besides, I'm your editor. We have to work together. It's my job to make you work."

"You said you didn't want to be my editor anymore, Lindsey."

"The company feels like nobody else can handle you, Luke. Like nobody else can get you to write. I don't want to be doing this, believe me, it's just-"

"You don't have a choice?"

"Right. Look, I'm going to be in LA this weekend. I think we should meet up, see what you've got going on."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said, "I don't want to make things harder for you."

"Luke, this is just business. You've moved on. I've moved on. I'll see you this weekend. No excuses."

As she hung up on him, Lindsey took a moment to compose herself, to reflect. She knew she wasn't over him, but she didn't have any choice, either. Why hadn't she quit? Why hadn't she just walked away? If she worked somewhere else, she'd never have been put in this position. But she knew, deep down, that this was exactly the reason she hadn't done it.

She couldn't deny it: She was still in love with him. She'd always be in love with him.