by Kally Ash
"So who won the bet?"
Natasha snorted. "Neither of us. Anyway, that's not the reason you called me, is it?"
Vee put the phone on speaker and pulled some clothes from her closet. "No, it isn't. Have you got lunch plans?"
"Only with my best friend."
Evangeline smiled. "I'll swing by your office around twelve."
"Is there any reason for the date?"
Vee shoved her legs into some skinny jeans. LA humidity or not, she didn't give a fuck. Besides, everywhere you went nowadays had the AC cranked. "I need your advice."
Natasha gasped in mock horror. "I'm usually the one asking for advice, not you."
"I know." She sucked in a breath then let it out. "I saw Beau." This time it was a choking sound. "Sorry about the coffee."
Her friend coughed. "Fuck the coffee. Beau?"
She nodded, even though Tash couldn't see it. "Hence the need to talk."
"Yeah, of course. Jesus, Vee. How long have you been sitting on this news?"
She slipped on a t-shirt, smoothing it down her body. "Less than twelve hours."
"I don't know if I can wait until lunch. I'm canceling my nine thirty so we can talk."
"Tash, no. I can—"
But it was pointless—Natasha had already hung up.
"Wait," she finished with a sigh. She didn't know why she bothered trying to argue with her. Natasha was an absolute pit bull in the courtroom. As a litigation lawyer in LA, she had her pick of clients. And at more than six hundred thousand a year, she could afford to take unexpected time off.
Her phone pinged with a message from Natasha. It was just an address, and when she looked it up, she saw it was a restaurant near her office. She guessed that was where she was going.
Grabbing her purse and her keys, she left her apartment then another message came through.
Walking is for losers. I sent you my driver, Blake x.
"Driver?" she asked aloud. Since when did Natasha have a driver?
By the time she was out front of her building, there was a car waiting.
The window slid down. "Ms. Webster?" asked the man inside.
"Yeah," she replied cautiously, coming to a stop on the curb.
He got out of the car, stretching out to his full height. "I'm Blake," he said. "I've been told to take you to Green Tea on Wilshire."
"Uh-huh," she replied, looking him over.
He gave her a genial smile despite her clear inspection of him, then opened up the rear door of the sedan. He gestured to the car. "Please."
She brushed past him and climbed inside. The interior was black leather, supple and soft, and Blake's aftershave saturated the air.
Once he was behind the wheel, he smiled at her through the rearview mirror. "So you're the owner of Temptation."
Statement.
"I am."
"How do you know Ms. Fraser?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You're awfully nosy for a driver."
He grinned. "I'm sorry. It's my first day."
Ah, that explained so much. She sat forward in her seat, resting her elbows on the back of the front seat. "Let me give you a tip, Blake."
He looked over his shoulder at her briefly before looking back at the road. "Ma'am?"
"Don't ask questions. Don't talk unless spoken to, and for god's sake don't bathe in your aftershave before coming to work."
He blanched. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."
She sat back, enjoying a blissfully silent drive to the cafe. When he pulled up to the curb, she stepped from the car before Blake could open the door. Through the window, she spotted Natasha already at a table and made her way inside.
"I ordered you a martini." Those were the first words out of her best friend's mouth and Evangeline smiled.
"It's not even ten AM yet."
Tasha shrugged. "When you tell me you've just seen Beau for the first time in four years, I think it calls for a martini—ten AM or not."
As if by magic, their drinks arrived.
"Alright, spill it, Vee."
Despite her reservations about drinking during the day, Evangeline took a mouthful and swallowed. "He turned up at Temptation last night."
"Just, like, out of the blue?"
She ran her fingers over the stem of the glass. "Yep."
"Well, what did you say to him?" Natasha prompted.
"I didn't say anything; I hit him."
Natasha choked on her drink, spilling some down the front of her blouse. Vee handed her a napkin. "You hit him? Like, in the face?" she asked, blotting up the liquor.
"I slapped him," Evangeline admitted. "It was a combination of shock and anger, I guess. I saw him and I... reacted."
"What did he do?"
Vee thought back to the look on his face. "I think I caught him by surprise. After I slapped him, I just walked away and hid in my office."
One of Tasha's manicured brows rose. "Stone-cold bitch Evangeline Webster hid in her office. From a boy?"
"Believe me, he isn't a boy anymore," she muttered.
"Huh," Natasha said. "He still looks as good as you remember then?"
Vee swallowed half her martini in one hit. "Better."
Her friend's eyes narrowed slightly before she lifted her gaze, searching for someone. With nothing more than the slight tilt of her chin, a server scurried off to the bar.
"It's ten AM," Vee reiterated.
Natasha gave her a small smile and pulled out her phone. "And I am canceling the rest of my day."
Vee lunged across the table, trying to grab the iPhone from her hands. "No! I'm not a fucking basket case because... because..."
"The love of your life just waltzed back into it? Ah, yes, you are. I never take a day off, and my boss has been badgering me to take a break."
"Please don’t."
Natasha's warm eyes found her face, her features softening. "Okay," she submitted. "But only because you never say please unless you really mean it."
Vee let out a breath. "Thank you."
"I still want to know every detail of what happened. Like, what exactly happened four years ago with you two."
"You know everything," she told her. "One day, we're desperately and stupidly in love... then the next, poof, he's gone.”
"He didn't say anything last night?"
"He didn't really get a chance... A part of me wished I'd let him speak, not shut him out, but I was absolutely furious with him. I've held on to this emotion for so long, been so blinded by it, that I just slipped into default mode."
Natasha nodded as she spoke, eventually reaching across the table to touch her hand briefly before retracting it; neither of them were particularly touchy-feely. The server appeared with a tray balanced on her palm, two martini glasses perched perfectly on top. Both Vee and Natasha downed the rest of their drinks quickly and swapped them out for new ones.
"Do you think he'll come back?"
Evangeline shrugged. "I don't know. I made it pretty clear that I wasn't interested."
"What if he shows up again? There's nothing to stop him now—he knows where you work."
Vee had to give her that. Maybe next time, she'll let him talk. "What do you think I should do?"
Natasha's brows rose infinitesimally. "You really want my advice?"
"Yes, of course. That's why I called you. You know the whole story. You know how much he shattered my world the first time.”
She pursed her lips, picked up her drink and took a small sip—her gaze focused on Vee's face over the rim of her glass. "If it were me? I'd give him a chance—even if it's only for the explanation he owes you. He left you in ruins last time. I'd want to know why."
Evangeline grunted. She was right, of course. If nothing else, Beau owed her an explanation. She took a sip of her martini. "If he shows up again, I'll hear him out, but only on my terms."
Natasha smirked. "Forever the need for control."
"If you lived your life like I did, you'd want control too."
Th
at dimmed Natasha's smile. "Right."
Evangeline picked up the cocktail napkin and blotted at the water ring on the table. She never could stand to see a surface dirty. "So... Blake, huh?"
She laughed. "There's another firm wooing me. They’ve given me a car and driver to use however I see fit.”
"Is it working?"
Tasha shrugged, a coy little smile tilting the corner of her mouth. "It might."
"Which other firm?"
"Slater, Slater, and Jones."
Evangeline whistled. "Damn, girl. They're a top-five firm."
"I know. And our firm is a lowly number twenty-four. I'd kill to work for a top-five firm—bigger bonuses."
"So why don't you take the offer?"
"Call me sentimental. I first started working for King when I was still a law student. He offered me a job when I finished up and mentored me." She shrugged. "I owe him."
Evangeline smiled faintly. "Loyal to a fault."
"Don't pretend you aren't exactly like that too," her friend shot back. She brushed some perfectly styled hair off her shoulder. "Anyway, I'm enjoying Blake. He's a very good... driver."
"You mean he's nice to look at."
Natasha's smile turned devious. "He's going to be even better to fuck. I'm seeing him tonight."
"He told me it was his first day of work."
Natasha threw her head back and laughed. "It is, but you know I always get what I want."
Evangeline tipped her glass toward Natasha in toast. "To always getting what you want."
"And to hopefully getting exactly what you want," Natasha murmured.
9
Beau sealed up the last of the boxes and sat back on his heels. Done. He was done. His mom's life—everything she had collected and treasured in her life was now defined by cardboard boxes and packing tape. Going to the funeral hadn't made her death real to him, but this...
Now it felt final.
Shit. What was he going to do with it all? He stood up and walked around, wandering into each room, silently saying goodbye to his mother and to his childhood home. They had made so many memories inside these walls, but he couldn't keep it. He didn't need to be reminded of her cancer, of her suffering.
No, this was definitely the best thing to do. He needed to sell the house and start his life over.
With one final check over the house to make sure he didn't miss anything, he locked up and sat on the front step. Pulling out his phone, he brought up the details of a local Realtor and called. After a brief conversation, he set up for them to meet for lunch on Friday; he had to get the ball rolling on this.
Standing up, he stretched his arms above his head and felt the vertebrae in his back pop. Shifting boxes all day was just as much of a workout as helping someone out at the gym. Unlocking his car, he got in and started things up. He should stop and get some food before he headed back to John's. He drove on autopilot, navigating in the general direction of the local Thai place, but found himself turning on the I-5, heading north toward Hollywood.
Fuck.
Oh, good, he was coming up on an exit. But instead of pulling off, he simply watched it go by. If anything, his foot depressed the accelerator even more.
"What are you doing?" he asked himself. "Vee clearly doesn't want to see you."
The thing was, he wanted to see her. So badly. He looked at the time on the dashboard clock. He would be getting into West Hollywood around eight if there wasn't too much traffic. He should be able to get in and speak to her without interrupting too much of her night. No! What was he thinking? He shouldn't be going at all. She'd made herself pretty clear before about not wanting to speak with him.
And yet...
And yet that only spurred him on.
Turning up the volume on his sound system, he tried to run through all the different scenarios that could play out when he got there. The first and most likely scenario would be Evangeline removing him bodily from the club. He bet she'll get that big bastard Max to do it too. The second scenario involved him walking in there, explaining himself the best he could, at which point Vee would listen impassively and then have him removed bodily from the club. The third, and most unlikely thing to happen, would be Vee listening to him, forgiving him, and they would start getting to know each other again.
He laughed despite himself. That situation would never play out, but, hey, a guy can dream. He began to hit the traffic of West Hollywood, cursing every second of it. He concentrated on the road, navigating his way through the traffic-congested streets until he found himself cruising along Santa Monica Boulevard and looking for a free parking space that didn't exist.
He had to do half a dozen laps before he found somewhere to park, and even then, he had to flip off the driver of a BMW to do it. Beau tried to get his bearings when he got out of the car, figuring out he needed to head east for at least another five blocks before he could get to the club. Making sure his car was locked, he began walking.
The sidewalks were clogged with people—people who were rude and pushy and too preoccupied to even say they were sorry. This was what he hated about West Hollywood: the fucking people. Picking up the pace, he soon found himself standing outside Temptation. Its shiny black door beckoned him inside, and when he pulled on the handle, he watched the dim light spill out onto his feet. Sucking in a breath, he stepped inside.
"We're not open for another hour," a girl said as she stepped up to the bar. Her jaw was working like she was chewing gum. "You'll have to wait outside."
"Err," he said. "I was hoping to speak to Evangeline. Is she around?"
The girl turned around, giving Beau a once-over. "Are you a supplier?"
"No," came a voice. "He's not."
Beau looked over toward the person who had spoken and felt the smile on his lips. "Vee," he said.
"Evangeline," she corrected sternly. Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, "What are you doing here, Beau?"
"I came... to talk to you."
"About what?"
He glanced around at the other waitresses that had stopped to listen in to their conversation. "Can we have this conversation in private?"
She studied him for a moment, then jerked her head in the direction of the hallway he'd seen her disappear into the other night. He followed her tentatively, trying to ignore the sway of her hips. He remembered those hips. He remembered everything about her body, from the way she sighed his name when he kissed her behind the ear, to the way her whole body trembled when he brought her to climax. He shouldn't be thinking about this though.
She showed him into an office lined with filing cabinets. In the middle was a desk and two chairs.
"Sit," she commanded. She sat down in the chair behind the desk and leveled him with an arctic stare.
Beau felt as if his balls had shrunk, but he sat down, wondering what he was doing here. Had he made the right decision? Somehow, he didn't think so.
"What do you want, Beau?" Her tone was cold and uninflected. She was so unlike the woman he had once known. It made him wonder whether he actually knew her at all.
"I wanted to speak to you."
She sat back, studying him through narrowed eyes. "We have nothing to say to each other."
He sat forward in his seat. "That's not true, Vee."
"Evangeline," she replied through gritted teeth. "I'll tell you again since you can't seem to get it through your thick skull; we have nothing to say to each other."
"Evangeline," he implored, using the name she insisted he use. "We need to talk about this. I need you to know what happened."
"About fucking time," she muttered under her breath. She studied him for a long minute, then said, "All right. Say what you have to say and then you can get out."
He sucked in a breath and let it out. "Okay. Look, I want to apologize."
"For what?" she countered, leaning her forearms on the desktop and leaning in. She even smiled at him sweetly. "For what, Beau? For leaving me with a broken heart?"
F
uck. "I'm sorry, Evangeline. Things were out of my control."
"So much so that you couldn't even call me?"
He looked down at his knees, ashamed. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Sitting back in her chair, she glared at him. “So what the fuck is your excuse? Forgive me if I don't buy your I-just-couldn't spiel." She stood up. "I think you should go, Beau. I'm busy. This place will be filled with people in an hour and I just don't have the emotional fortitude to deal with this right now."
"Vee, please. There's more to this than you think."
"Oh? Is there?"
"Yes," he ground out.
She let out a breath and looked down at the desktop strewn with paperwork. "So, why don't you enlighten me?"
Beau cursed under his breath. "It's a long story."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I don't have all night." She stood up, forcing him to stand up too.
"Meet me tomorrow, then," he said, the words rushing out.
"Beau—" she began.
"Vee, please. I drove over two hours to get here to speak to you tonight."
Her eyes widened a little at this admission, her expression sliding back into impassiveness a moment later. "Two hours?" she repeated.
Seeing he was making headway with her, he pressed on. "Yes, and I'd gladly do it again tomorrow too if you'd just agree to meet with me. I need to explain this to you."
She stared at him for a long time before nodding. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll meet you. Here at one PM. You can have an hour to explain yourself."
An hour was better than nothing. He moved toward the door where she was standing, ready to usher him out. As he stepped through, he turned to her and said, "I will change your mind about me, Vee."
She met his gaze with a caustic one of her own. "I can't wait," she retorted. "Now, if you wouldn't mind?"
He looked ahead, thinking of the drive home. "Yeah," he muttered, leaving the office and walking down the hallway. He left the club, the door slowly closing behind him. Well, at least she hadn't just hauled his ass out of there before he had a chance to talk to her.
Evangeline sat down in her office chair and let out a deep breath. She sucked in another and let it out. She repeated the process for a good ten minutes, allowing her brain to process what had just happened.