Tease Me (Temptation Series Book 2)

by Kally Ash

  “Let’s take this out back to the office,” he murmured into her ear. Stalking off, she retraced her steps, feeling the backstabbing bastard behind her, and the Asshole of the Year behind him. She shoved the door open, positioning herself behind the desk. She figured she needed the physical barrier for a couple of reasons—the first being an obstacle between her and Beau should she decide she can’t contain her anger, and second, something to hide behind.

  When Max stepped into the room, he gave her a look that seemed to say just give him a chance. She blew out a breath, her attention turning to the door when Beau shut it behind him. She sat down, steepling her hands under her chin.

  “Somebody better start talking.”

  “You’re miserable.”

  That was the line Max led with. “I’m miserable, so you invite the dick who made me this way to my own business?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, get your fucking head out of your fucking ass and listen to me!” Max yelled. She shut her mouth, too stunned to speak. They stared at each other for an eternity until she nodded to show she would do as he asked.

  “Thank you.” He sat down, leaving Beau to stand by the door awkwardly. Max put his forearms on his knees and leaned into the them. “You need to let him speak. You need to hear what he has to say.”

  “Why? I think I heard enough before.”

  “You didn’t hear the whole story,” Beau said softly, drawing her gaze.

  She opened up her arms, inviting him to speak. “This will be your only chance to explain, Beau. Make it count.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s what you lead with?” she asked, exasperated.

  “It’s all that matters.”

  She bit her cheek. “You’d known for a week that she was pregnant. You should’ve told me about it right away.”

  “And if I had told you, what then, huh?” he asked. “You would’ve reacted in the same way.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have. I don’t give a fuck that she’s pregnant, Beau. I’m upset that you chose to lie to me, again, because you couldn’t fucking man up and tell me the truth. It’s like what happened four years ago was happening all over again, and I refuse to give you another chance.”

  His eyes widened. “You can’t mean that.”

  Evangeline jutted her chin out, defiant... defeated. “I mean every single word.”

  “The only reason Lisa approached you and told you all that shit was to force you to break it off with me.”

  “Clever girl,” she murmured. “She knew exactly what it would take.” She glanced at Max to find him staring at her intently. To Beau, she said, “So she wants you back, huh?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but I made it pretty damn clear to her that I’m only there to support her financially.”

  “I’m sure she’ll wear you down. Women like that always get what they want.”

  Beau pushed up from his position against the wall. “Goddammit, Vee, I’m only going to say this to you one more time: I want you. I’ve always wanted you and I’ll have you again. I’ll make this right. Somehow.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t be with you again. I was a fool to let you back in after the first time. Shame on me for believing you a second time.” She stood up, dismissing him.

  “Vee? Please,” he begged. “Tell me what I can do to make this up to you. I can’t lose you again.”

  “It’s too late.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded dead. “I’m already lost to you.”

  25

  Snatching up her phone, keys, and wallet, Evangeline left the office and stalked through the club. She was shaken but not emotional. Nope, she had locked all those down, stuffing them into the vault in her mind. It’s the same one she used when she was going through foster family after foster family.

  “Have a good night, Rich,” she told her bouncer as she left.

  “Good night, boss,” he called as she walked back to her apartment. Unlocking her phone, she called Natasha.

  “We’re going out,” she said as soon as her friend picked up. “Come and get me in an hour.” She hung up before she could ask her any questions, then slid her phone back into her pocket. Evangeline needed to forget for a while, and there really was no better way to forget than drowning in expensive bourbon, then finding someone to fuck away the memories of Beau.

  When she got back to her apartment, she got changed into the shortest dress she owned and slid on her favorite pair of pumps. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes locked on the phoenix tattoo standing stark on her ankle. Her tattoo. His tattoo. Their tattoo.

  “Fool me once,” she told her reflection.

  “Damn, girl!”

  Evangeline spun around to find Natasha standing in the doorway. Turning back, she said, “I need to put a bell on you.”

  “Oh, kinky. I like it,” Natasha shot back. “You are looking good tonight, girl. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking to get a little action.”

  “You’re right,” she murmured. “I’m planning on forgetting all about Beau by letting another man erase every place he’s touched me.”

  Natasha’s expression seemed to sober. “It’s over then?”

  “Yes.” Glancing over her shoulder, she added, “Yes. It’s over.” She took in what she was wearing. “You’re planning on making some guy cry tonight, aren’t you?”

  She slid her hands down her body suggestively. “I need a man after letting Blake pant all over me.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they rolled into The Nightingale, a rival club that Evangeline had suggested they go to. Heading straight to the bar, they ordered themselves two drinks each, then scooped up a free table as another couple left it.

  “I know you’ve already checked out potentials,” Natasha said, taking a sip of her martini. “Tell me who you want so I can find another.”

  She scanned the room, searching for the man she’d targeted as they’d ordered drinks. He was the exact opposite of Beau in every way, and that suited her just fine.

  “Him,” she said, jerking her chin in his direction.

  “Done. I’ve got dibs on the surfer guy about two tables over.”

  Evangeline leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of the guy in question. She was impressed.

  “Not your usual type.”

  Natasha laughed. “I get to sit in an office with suit-wearing pricks all day. Why would I choose to take one to bed too?”

  “Touché.” Taking a sip of her bourbon, she looked out at the people, wondering what they were trying to forget.

  “Should I even ask?”

  “Probably not. I’m just over it, you know?”

  She nodded. “Of course.” Raising her glass, she said, “Fuck them all.”

  Evangeline smiled. “Fuck them all.” She took a sip of her drink, placing it down on the table.

  “How’s work going?”

  “The other firm upped their offer.”

  “To what?”

  “Three quarters of a million a year.”

  Evangeline’s eyes bulged. “Holy shit! Natasha, surely you can’t ignore them now.”

  She sighed. “I know I can’t, but I still feel like I can’t leave my firm.”

  “Honor and all that?”

  “Yeah.” Natasha absently swirled the olives in her drink. “Seven hundred and seventy-five thousand a year is a lot of money though.”

  “It is,” replied Evangeline. “But what would you have to sacrifice?”

  “I’d be in the office six and a half days a week. It would put an end to all the free time I have now.”

  Evangeline smiled. “Oh, the whole once every two weeks I see you now, you mean?”

  “It’s more than most people,” Natasha shot back with a grin. “Plus, I can’t just drop everything and come running to your aid.”

  She laughed. “I never asked you to do that.”

  Natasha grinned. “I know. I just want t
o remind you of it every chance I get since you never ask for help.”

  “You’re a bitch.”

  Her friend threw her head back, laughing. “Not as big of a bitch as you.”

  Evangeline raised her glass. “To being a bigger bitch and surviving.”

  Natasha downed the rest of her drink, placed her glass on the table, and stood up. “Okay, enough of this emotional shit. I’m going to get laid tonight if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Good luck,” she murmured.

  With a wink, Natasha replied, “You too. Stay safe.”

  Evangeline watched her saunter away, her hips swinging in a slightly too exaggerated way. She noticed a lot of appreciative eyes on her, but Natasha was on a mission. As if her departure were a green light to approach Evangeline, a man appeared at her elbow.

  “Hi.”

  She looked the guy over, wondering if she could fuck him and leave him. She could; he dressed well, he smelled good, he was well groomed, but... he wasn’t Beau. No one was ever going to match up to him. She had to stop comparing every man to him because he was permanently out of the picture now.

  “Do you mind if I…?” He gestured to the empty seat opposite her. She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. With a confident smile, the guy sat down.

  “I’m Ethan,” he said.

  “Evangeline.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline.” His eyes darted to her nearly empty glass. “Would you like another?”

  “Sure.”

  Ethan gestured to someone behind the bar, miraculously ordering them each a drink.

  Narrowing her eyes at him, she asked, “Who are you?”

  He laughed, the rich sound making Evangeline pay attention to him a little more closely. “Is it that obvious?”

  She glanced around at the bar. There were people everywhere, the bar had a line about six people deep and there wasn’t even anyone out on the floor collecting glasses. “It is. So who are you?”

  He held out his hand to her. “Ethan Harris; the new owner of The Nightingale.”

  She didn’t bother to hide the surprise from her face. “What happened to Louisa?”

  “She sold it. To me.” Now it was his turn to look surprised. “Do you know Louisa?”

  “No. I’m Evangeline Webster. I—”

  “Own Temptation,” he finished. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

  “Your drinks, Mr. Harris,” an attractive blonde waitress announced, placing the glasses on the table in front of them.

  With an easy smile, he said, “Thank you, Tammy.” He took a sip of his drink, staring over the rim of the glass at her. “I’ve heard about you, you know.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. They said you were a real ice-queen.”

  Tipping her glass toward him, she said, “Guilty.”

  “They didn’t say how beautiful you were.”

  She swallowed the mouthful of her bourbon audibly. “Man, you are trying hard tonight.”

  He grinned at her. “Is it working?”

  “Not yet, but I’m still sitting here, so there’s hope for you yet.”

  Ethan got more settled in his seat. “So, what’s the occasion?”

  “Occasion?”

  He gave her a really? look. “I think you’ve been in this industry as long as I have. You know why people come out to bars and clubs. What’s your excuse?” When she remained quiet, he said softly, “Ah, a breakup.”

  Her eyes darted to his, not seeing pity or potential in them; there was only a quiet understanding.

  “That guy, whoever he is, is a fool to let you go.”

  She took a sip of her drink in an attempt to hide her discomfort at being so easily read by a stranger. “I was the one who walked away.”

  Ethan studied her face. “I know that look. You’ve been hurt.”

  “Perhaps irreparably.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that. Everyone can be healed.”

  She didn’t call bullshit on that, even though she knew it was. She smiled at him, enjoying the way he was making her feel.

  “So why are you out tonight?”

  He laughed. “How do you know I’m not working?”

  She held out her hand, counting the things off on her fingers as she listed them. “No comms, you’re too fucking relaxed, no uniform, no clipboard… Do I have to go on?”

  The grin that formed on his lips was strangely seductive. “No, you don’t.” He rolled his whiskey glass between the tips of his fingertips. “I believe I’m here for the same reason you are.”

  “And you couldn’t think of anywhere else to go?”

  He glanced around, his keen eyes taking in everything, she suspected. “Sometimes all you need is familiar surroundings, you know?”

  She did know that. With a nod, she added, “Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” She looked up when movement caught her eye. It was Natasha, making their sign for the bathroom at her.

  “Is everything okay, Evangeline?” Ethan asked, gaining her attention once more.

  “Yes. Sorry. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

  “You aren’t going to just ditch me, are you? I don’t think my heart could take it.”

  She smiled. “Believe it or not, I’m actually enjoying myself. Excuse me.” Grabbing her purse, she followed Natasha to the bathroom.

  “Vee, who is that damn fine-looking guy you’ve been talking to?” her friend asked as they entered the women’s bathroom.

  “His name’s Ethan,” she replied, pushing into one stall while Natasha took the one beside her. “He owns this place.”

  “You work fast. Will you fuck him tonight?”

  “Maybe,” she replied.

  They fell silent as another group of women came into the bathroom.

  “Has he come around yet?” one woman asked. “Is the plan working?”

  There was a high-pitched laugh, a clearly drunk one at that. “Oh my god,” another woman shrieked. “He bought it all, the whole lie!”

  Evangeline knew that voice. Lisa. She let out a shaky breath, pulling her phone from her purse. She just hoped Natasha wasn’t done yet. She typed out a message and hit send. A moment later, there was a beep in the stall beside hers.

  Fuck.

  That was all that was said. She typed out:

  Stay there!

  Evangeline pulled down her dress, lowered the seat and held her breath.

  “He completely believes that I’m pregnant. Oh, and thanks for lending me your positive pregnancy test.”

  “I was only going to throw it away. God, I can’t believe I’m finally pregnant!”

  “I know!” Lisa shrieked. “Beau will soon be mine again, and when we finally get pregnant for real, he’ll be mine forever.”

  “That bitch!” Natasha whispered harshly and Evangeline cringed.

  “Did you hear that?” Lisa’s friend asked.

  “Hear what?” replied Lisa. “Oh my god, this fake pregnancy sure is taking it out of me,” she added with a cackle. “Come on, I’m sobering up. I need to drink more so I can take at least one of these men home with me.”

  Evangeline waited until the door closed behind them before she opened up the door, finding Natasha already there.

  “That was her, Beau’s ex?”

  Evangeline nodded, the weight of Lisa’s words still registering. Lisa lied about the pregnancy, was leading Beau to believe he was the father of a nonexistent child. She forced them apart even though they’d only just found each other again.

  “You have to tell Beau. Vee, did you hear me? You have to tell him.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Are you fucking serious? You know why. Lisa lied to him about everything. You can be the one to expose that bitch’s lies.”

  What Natasha was saying was true, but still she hesitated, although she didn’t know why. Beau was just a poor dumb bastard who got tangled up with a woman who was clearly smarter than either of them had given credit.

&
nbsp; “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Natasha growled, her thumbs working furiously over the screen of her phone.

  “Natasha?” she asked, alarmed. “What are you doing?” She lunged for the phone, but it was too late. Natasha help up her phone, showing her the text message she’d just sent Beau.

  26

  Check your girl. The Nightingale.

  The message had come through from a number he didn’t recognize and it made him stop. Check my girl? Was it talking about Vee or Lisa?

  Who is this?

  He waited for a reply, but it never came. He looked at the time. It was coming up on midnight, and he was still in West Hollywood, drinking even though he was supposed to be driving home. After the absolute failure to talk to Vee, he’d come to accept that they weren’t going to be a couple again, and as much as that hurt him to hear, he could see her point of view. She was right—he’d broken her once before and she’d found the strength to forgive him. A second time though? He couldn’t blame her for falling back into default mode.

  Check your girl. The words swirled around in his head as he drank the last of his beer. Check your girl. He couldn’t ignore it. Slapping some money on the bar, he stood up and walked outside, punching in The Nightingale as his next destination. Thankfully it was only about seven blocks away, and the walk would sober him up enough to possibly drive home afterward.

  He found the club easily, the line of people out the door more than an indication. Foregoing the line to get it, he headed straight to the bouncer.

  “Hey, man, can—”

  “Back of the line,” he replied without bothering to hear him out.

  “Look, I need to go in there for just a few minutes. My girlfriend is drunk and I need to take her home.”

  He looked at him then. “Why is your girlfriend out without you?”

  He shrugged casually. “Bachelorette party. I got a call from one of her friends telling me to swing by and get her.”

  “You’ve got five minutes. If you’re not out of there by then, I’m coming in to get you.”