Seducing Lola Read online

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh nothing.” He grinned in amusement. “Just wondering if our employees would be nearly as scared of you if they had any clue what a pushover you actually are.”

  I turned back toward the doors. “I’m not a pushover.”

  His voice was still laced with humor as he asked, “You’re not? So it wasn’t you who spent three hours out in the freezing cold last Christmas because Nana’s beloved Fifi got loose and she was so distraught she just couldn’t imagine celebrating a holiday without that damn dog?”

  It was my turn to tug at my collar uncomfortably. The damn dog in question was an overweight Great Dane who’d been sleeping comfortably in the laundry room the entire time. Seriously, a Great Dane named Fifi. My grandmother was a bit… eccentric, to put it politely.

  “Well, I come by it honestly,” I defended. “Need I remind you of the soap opera fiasco?”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. “Your mother loved that character!” he insisted as we stepped in and began our journey down. “She was devastated when they killed her off. Cried for two whole days.”

  I chuckled. “You realize it’s not a normal reaction to use your connections to get a damned soap opera character ‘brought back to life’ just because your wife misses them, right?”

  He waved me off. “Happy wife, happy life, son. Besides, I work hard for my money and connections. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t take advantage of them every once in a while?”

  It was true that my father worked hard. He had for as long as I could remember. He’d started Bandwidth from the ground up, turning it into a multimillion-dollar company through nothing but blood and sweat. It was a legacy I was happy to have passed down to me when he finally decided to retire. But unlike all the other rich assholes we had to deal with on a daily basis, Dad had always taught me that all those luxuries could disappear in the blink of an eye. My brother and I had been raised to be humble, never expecting things to just be handed to us because of our wealth.

  We might have been rich, but my parents were two of the most down-to-earth people I’d ever come across. Hell, my old man could waltz into Seattle’s dingiest bar and make friends with everyone there just as easily as he could command attention in a boardroom. It was a trait I strived to embody.

  “I’m curious,” Dad started once we exited the elevator on the floor that housed the epicenter of Bandwidth Communications. “You seemed familiar with that woman in the conference room. Have you two met before? What was with the ‘Venti Americano’ thing?”

  A small grin worked its way across my face as I thought about the feisty woman I’d just had the pleasure of dealing with. “I ran into her at Starbucks yesterday morning. She was having an… interesting phone conversation. It caught my attention.”

  Dad gave me a knowing grin. “If she was as passionate during that call as she was in that meeting, I have no doubt it caught your attention.”

  “She refused to give me her last name when I asked. Blew me off, then walked out like it was nothing.”

  He let out a loud bark of laughter and clapped me on the shoulder. “I knew I liked that girl! Oh, this is going to be fun to watch, son. So much fun. A woman like that, she’ll keep you on your toes.”

  My mouth gaped open. “Have you forgotten that this is the very same woman who publicly humiliated me just yesterday morning?”

  He brushed that off like it was nothing. “What have I always told you, son? First impressions aren’t everything.”

  My face fell flat. “It’s because of her that that psychopath has probably revitalized her efforts to track me down and filet me to make her very own Grayson skin suit.”

  He simply shrugged. “People make mistakes. Besides, you like her. I can see it written all over your face. That’s why you jumped at the chance to spend time with her… whether she was a willing participant or not.”

  “I—” I had no argument because, honestly, it was true. When I walked into the room and saw her sitting there, bare feet propped on the table like she was in her own home, I’d been drawn in. Just like when I’d eavesdropped on her conversation at Starbucks. She interested me. She was a ball of fire wrapped up in a tiny, sexy-as-hell package.

  “It’s all right,” Dad offered. “You’re a Lockhart, after all. We aren’t easily intrigued, so when someone catches our attention it’s hard to let it go. It was the same way with your mother and me. And it’ll be the same with Deacon when he finally finds a woman.” He got a faraway look in his eyes as a small grin formed on his lips. “Damned woman had me tied up in knots,” he said in a tone that belied just how much he’d enjoyed it.

  My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my pants pocket, smiling the moment I opened the e-mail.

  “Ah,” Dad chuckled, looking over my shoulder, “looks like Sam’s on the ball. That tough guy façade back there must have really scared the piss out of him if it only took—” He looked at his watch. “—six minutes to get you that girl’s personal info. Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t include her social security number and blood type.”

  Everything I needed on Lola Abbatelli was right there at my fingertips. The day before I couldn’t even get her to tell me her last name; now I had a home address, personal and work e-mail, along with her phone number. I closed out of my e-mail and shoved my phone back in my pocket before looking back over at my father.

  “Yep.” He laughed again when he saw the pleased expression on my face. “This is going to be fun to watch.”

  AS I LAY spread out on the large sectional in my living room, ESPN creating white noise in the background, I flipped my phone with one hand, lifting my beer bottle to my lips with the other and taking a long swig. I’d given it a few hours after getting home before reaching out, not wanting to come off too eager or anything. But the urge to shoot Lola a text was no longer going to be ignored.

  Grayson: Dinner at The Warf tomorrow at 7. I’ll pick you up.

  Her response was almost instant.

  Lola: Who is this?

  I grinned as I typed, knowing my response would undoubtedly set her off.

  Grayson: The billionaire who plans to use you as arm candy for the foreseeable future.

  Lola: How’d you get my number?

  Grayson: I have my ways. Be ready at 7.

  I watched the tiny bubbles flutter on the screen as she typed, looking forward to whatever snarky reply she was working up. She didn’t disappoint.

  Lola: Can’t. I’ll be busy trying to find a way to solve world hunger. I expect it’ll take hours. Sorry.

  Grayson: While your work is admirable, I still expect you to be ready at 7. Even humanitarians need to break for dinner.

  Lola: Not this one.

  Man, she was lively. I’d have been lying if I said it wasn’t a bit of a turn-on.

  Grayson: We have an agreement.

  Lola: If I recall, I didn’t agree to anything.

  She even added an angry-face emoji at the end of that text before my phone pinged with another one.

  Lola: I’m sure you have enough money to pay a woman to fake enjoyment while in your company. I’ve heard if the price is right, you can even get a happy ending.

  At that, I full-on laughed.

  Grayson: It would be such a shame if unemployment pushed you into that particular line of work… wouldn’t it?

  The bubbles on the screen popped up, then disappeared, then popped up again. I’d just started to question if I’d pushed too hard when my notification went off.

  Lola: You’re a dickhead!

  My assumption was right. She wasn’t the type of woman content with not having the last word. As long as I kept this game up, she’d play along.

  Grayson: Why do I suddenly feel like I’m having a conversation with a middle schooler?

  Lola: I’m rubber and you’re glue, asshole.

  I just couldn’t help myself; something about the fire in that woman set me off. I typed out another message.

 
; Grayson: Just so you know, I’ve never had to pay for sex. And I’ve never had a single complaint.

  Lola: Just because it wasn’t said to your face doesn’t mean it wasn’t said behind your back. Not all women are as vocal as I am.

  I was still smiling like crazy as I shot off one last text.

  Grayson: We’ll just have to see, then, won’t we? I look forward to hearing just how “vocal” you can be.

  Lola: What’s that supposed to mean?

  Lola: Did you just proposition me?

  Lola: That was innuendo, wasn’t it?

  Lola: You should be ashamed of yourself.

  Lola: Damn it, Lockhart! Where’d you go!

  Lola: You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?

  With that, I closed out of my text screen, allowing her to have the last word she was so desperate to have.

  My father was right. This was going to be a lot of fun.

  Lola

  WITH A GRUNT, I tossed my phone to my feet at the other end of the couch and fell back on one of the toss pillows that littered my fluffy couch, returning the bag of frozen peas to my nose. After the abuse from that stupid glass wall earlier that morning it still hurt like a mother.

  “Who are you texting?” Sophia asked, pushing my feet off the couch so she could sit down. I lifted the frozen peas just long enough to shoot her a killing look and prop my legs across her lap.

  “Nobody,” I answered sullenly.

  She hummed. “Doesn’t look like nobody to me. Who’s Lord Voldemort?”

  Okay… yes, I was a total nerd who was in love with Harry Potter — so sue me. I was a hot chick with enough boobs and ass to guarantee my obsession with fantasy novels wouldn’t hinder my chances of getting laid. I was golden. “So, there are these books about a boy wizard who travels to a place he never knew existed by way of a hidden portal in a train station so he can attend this magic school called Hogwarts, all the while never knowing he’s being hunted by an evil, sinister—”

  She smacked my leg to shut me up. “I know who Lord Voldemort is, you ass. I’ve seen the movies.”

  I shrugged and tossed the bag of peas onto the coffee table. “The books were better.”

  “Wouldn’t know,” she said casually, lifting one of my wineglasses full of my wine to her lips — the bitch. “Only reason I saw any of them was because someone said that hot dude from the Twilight movies was in one of them.”

  I sucked in a gasp of outrage as I shot up, snatching the wineglass from her hand. “Blasphemy! This is mine and you can’t have any.” I chugged the rest of the wine and held it out for a refill, waving it around haughtily like Sophia was my servant and she needed to fetch me more.

  “Get your own damn wine,” she laughed, slapping my hand away. “I meant who’s the person you have saved in your phone under Lord Voldemort?”

  I let out a frustrated sigh as I stood from the couch, walked over to my kitchen island, and refilled my wine. “He’s our bastard of a boss who conned me into dating him at the threat of losing my job. Remember?” I spouted off as I pulled a second wineglass from the built-in rack next to my state-of-the-art wine fridge beneath the marble countertop of the island. I filled it to the rim for Sophia — because I was a good friend like that — and made my way back to the couch, handing one of the glasses to her before sitting back down.

  “You really think it’s smart to call your boss an asshole?” she asked with a quirk of her perfectly sculpted ebony eyebrow.

  Tucking my legs beneath me, I turned my body to face Sophia straight on. “I gave it serious consideration, then decided to go with my gut, and my gut said, ‘Call the bastard an asshole, Lola!’”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged casually. “This might not be such a bad thing. I mean, he’s really hot. You could do a lot worse.”

  I let out an indignant snort. “You’re kidding me, right? The man’s the devil! He forced my hand! I was under duress.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes at my dramatics. “This isn’t a court and I’m not a judge. You don’t have to try and defend yourself to me. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t hurt that he’s pleasant to look at. Better than being stuck on the arm of an uggo. Oh, don’t give me that look,” she chided when my face scrunched in anger. “I know you, and I know you think the guy is gorgeous. That’s why you’re so pissed about this whole thing.”

  “You… I can’t even… that’s so not….” She gave me a smug look when I couldn’t form a proper argument. “Ugh! You’re such a bitch. You know that, right?”

  “I do. That’s why you love me. Besides—” She took a long sip of wine. “—I saw the way he was looking at you. He’s totally interested.”

  I paused. I actually paused. I hated myself for feeling a twinge of pleasure at what Sophia had just said. “You think? Really? Wait… no! I don’t care. I don’t. He’s stupid and a jerk and… yeah, he might be totally gorgeous, but he’s… he’s….”

  Sophia had the nerve to laugh at me. “An asshole?”

  “Yep!” I gulped down my wine in a very unladylike fashion.

  She laughed again just as I lowered the glass from my lips and let out a satisfied “Ahhh.” She’d just opened her mouth to say something else — undoubtedly something that would piss me off for her own amusement — when the sharp trill of my cell phone sounded from its place on the coffee table. Sophia’s eyes darted to the screen, her lips curling like she got an awful whiff of poo or something. It made her look positively feral as she let out a curse at the name on the display.

  “That’s my cue to leave,” she snapped as she set her glass on the coffee table and stood.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, understanding how even seeing his name was enough to hurt her, but hating that I’d spent years stuck in the middle of two people I loved, all because my brother was an epic prick.

  Sophia leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “’Kay. Good night,” I called just as she opened the door to my apartment, pulling the strap of her purse higher onto her shoulder.

  “You too, sweets.” Then she was gone.

  I let out a huff and slid my thumb across the screen of my phone. “Dominic,” I answered smartly. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Bail money? Need help finding the name of a good attorney who can fight your latest paternity suit? No, wait… I know. You’re calling to tell me someone gave you syphilis and it’s slowly deteriorating your brain.”

  “Always so colorful, little sister,” his deep voice reverberated through the line. “I’ve missed you too.”

  A twinge of guilt pierced at my chest. No matter how angry I was at Dom for having broken Sophia’s heart years before — and no matter that I’d sided with her because Dominic had been wrong, so very, very wrong — I still loved the bastard. It was a curse to love the men in my family, even though I didn’t necessarily like them because of the shitty choices they’d made.

  “I have missed you,” I sighed. “Sorry for being a bitch. It’s been a rough day.”

  “No worries, I’m used to it,” he chuckled. “Let me guess, Sophia’s with you?”

  My eyebrows shot up. “She was… until she saw your name on my phone. How did you know?”

  “You have a tendency to be short with me when she’s around.”

  I hadn’t realized he’d ever caught on to that. Not that I should’ve been all that surprised. For someone who could be extremely selfish when it came to other people’s feelings, Dominic had always been good at reading moods. He just had a nasty habit of not caring enough.

  “Can you really blame me?” I asked, a hint a venom in my voice.

  “No, I haven’t blamed you for years. Why start now?” He went silent for a few seconds before asking, “So how is she? Sophia, I mean. Is she… good?”

  “Oh no, you don’t. Nuh-uh. We don’t talk about her, remember? That was the deal to keep my sanity intact. I don’t discuss you with her, and I do
n’t discuss her with you.”

  He let out a weary sigh that floated through the receiver and had my back stiffening in discomfort. It wasn’t normal for Dom to sound so melancholy. “Fine. I won’t ask about her.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, still on edge at the tone of his voice. “What’s going on with you? What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  He sighed again. “Nothing. I’m good, just….”

  “Just what?” I pushed when he stopped talking.

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me. Tell me what’s new with you. Mom already got on my ass today about bearing her grandbabies. I’m guessing that means you already got the lecture from her first?”

  I laughed and reclined into the plush cushions of the sofa, resting my head on the arm. “Oh yeah, I got that call yesterday. Not sorry at all to admit I threw you under the bus, big brother. After I stomped all over her dreams of me popping out little baby Abbatellis.” Dom’s full-blown laughter rang down the line when I admitted I might have hinted that he was her only chance.

  “Poor Mom,” he chuckled after a few seconds of uncontrollable laughter. “Between you and me, the likelihood of her ever holding a grandbaby is slim to none. Think she knows that?”

  “Oh, I’m sure somewhere deep, deep down she does. She just refuses to accept it.”

  “True.”