Willfully Hers (The Dirty Business Series Book 2)

by Michelle Betham

  “Don’t let them,” she whispers as she straddles me; as she slides her arms around my neck and rests her forehead against mine.

  Don’t let them.

  It sounds so easy, to do that.

  It sounds so fucking easy…

  Ten

  Evan

  Leaving Cavendish King in the hands of someone who isn’t either myself or Dana, I’ve never had to do that before. And it’s making me feel more than a little unsettled. But in the end, coming to L.A. to bury my father, it was the only thing to do. The right thing? I can’t answer that yet. It’s too soon. Everything’s been a whirlwind since we touched down at LAX last night, and today, at the funeral, it’ll be the first time I’ve seen any member of my family since the day I walked out of their lives all those years ago. And I still don’t know how I feel about that.

  “Are you okay?”

  I turn around and smile at her. My beautiful wife. She’s already changed into a long-sleeved black dress that clings subtly to every one of her incredible curves, her dark-blonde hair pulled into a side-ponytail, her make-up barely there, which just makes her all the more beautiful.

  “I’m fine.”

  She walks over to me, and she smoothes down the front of my white shirt, gently tightening the black tie around my neck. “You sure?”

  I nod, and I rest a hand lightly against the base of her spine and push her gently forward so her body touches mine, because I need that proximity today. I need her this close to me.

  “It’s going to be all right, Evan.”

  I stroke her cheek with my thumb and I smile slightly. Her positivity has been refreshing, compared to my own hidden pessimism, but I’m just not sure I can share it. She doesn’t know these people. She doesn’t know what they’re capable of, how they think or react. I do.

  “Yeah.” I take her hand and I squeeze it tight, lifting it to my mouth and kissing it quickly. “Let’s hope so, huh?”

  She slides a hand around the back of my neck and pushes me down for a kiss that briefly makes everything seem better and brighter on a day when nothing really feels better. Or brighter. But that kiss, it fuels me. For what? A fight I’ve seen coming ever since I decided to come here?

  A knock on the door of our garden suite within the grounds of The Peninsula Beverly Hills breaks the mood, and Lola goes over to answer it while I find my jacket and check myself in the mirror.

  “It’s Alicia,” Lola informs me as she comes back into the bedroom. “It’s time to head to your mum’s place now. If you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Lola, I’m fine… Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

  The last thing I need is to push her away today. She’s the only thing that’s going to get me through whatever this turns out to be. So when she smiles and kisses me and squeezes my hand I only know that I love her, so fucking much it kills me to think that any member of my judgmental family will look down on her. Alicia seems to think they’ve changed, that my father’s death has made my mother see what’s really important in life. I’m not so sure.

  “Come on.”

  Lola smiles again, and I return it, try to show her that I really am okay. I just don’t know if I am. But then, the only way I can show them all that nothing they did – or didn’t do – affected me is to go out there and be the man Lola made me. A man who now knows how to love, how to feel; how to care.

  Yet, I’m burying my dad today. And I still don’t care about that.

  Lola

  “Is he all right?” Alicia asks as I join her outside on the private terrace of our suite here in the kind of hotel I could only ever have dreamed of staying in, before I met Evan.

  “He’s fine. Or that’s what he’s telling me, anyway.”

  “And what about you?”

  I look at her, this woman I was once so wary of. Now I only get the feeling that she wants what’s best for Evan, as do I. We’re on the same side.

  “It’s not about me, is it? I’m here for Evan.”

  “And Evan wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for you.” She smiles, and I walk over to the low wall that surrounds our terrace and I look out over the lush green gardens that stretch out into the distance; the palm trees swaying gently in a clear blue sky. “He needed to do this, Lola. He needed to come here, and make this right. But he wasn’t listening to me, he only listens to you. So, for him to come here and do this and lose that irritating stubborn streak, even if it’s just for a few days…”

  I turn to face her, and she smiles again, briefly looking down at the marble tiled floor before raising her gaze, her eyes locking on mine.

  “He told me you’d changed him, and now I see that he’s right. You have changed him. And as his friend, I thank you for that.”

  “I love him, Alicia. It’s that simple.” I look around me, and I wrap my arms around myself as I once more take in my surroundings. “But I don’t love him because of all of this. I’m not all that comfortable, with all of this.” I turn to face Alicia again. “Did we really need this suite? Just for a few nights? I mean, it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also incredibly expensive. And this kind of lifestyle, it’s all still a little alien to me.”

  I suddenly realize I’ve said all of that out loud, when I’d really just been thinking it. I guess it’s still something that’s played at the back of my mind ever since that night out with Jess, in the West Village, because I’d told her much the same thing – how this life I now lived was so different to the one I’d been expecting. And I’m grateful, I am, that I’m lucky enough to be living it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still be a long way from getting used to it.

  “I take it Evan hasn’t told you just how wealthy his parents really are, huh?”

  I look at her, and I shake my head, dropping my arms, and I’m vaguely aware of the thumb on my left hand fiddling with my wedding and engagement rings. “No. No, he hasn’t.”

  “They own three successful law firms. The one here in L.A. is basically the New York offices transferred to the West Coast after they moved here from Manhattan. They’ve got another firm in Chicago, where Derek – Evan’s late father – was born, and the third is in London. They’re major players in the legal world, well respected and much sought after with a client list other law firms could only dream about. They’ve represented celebrities, politicians, sports stars and A-list movie stars as well as big businesses and the men who run them. They’re worth a not-so-small fortune, and Evan and Heath, they both stand to gain quite a substantial amount from their father’s estate.”

  “But Evan, he…”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, everything Evan has he’s worked for, himself. He hasn’t relied on any pay outs from Marcy and Derek, he never, ever wanted to do that. Even when his father offered to give him a leg up the legal ladder, so to speak, and bring him straight into the family firm as a junior partner Evan declined. He wanted to work his way up. He wanted to have his own law firm, not work for anyone else, least of all his father. So Evan’s success, that’s all his own.”

  “And what about Heath?”

  “Heath does work in the family firm, but he started at the bottom. Also his choice. He finished his law degree and started work in the Chicago offices as a first year associate, working his way up to senior partner the same way any other lawyer would. He wanted no special favors, so neither Derek nor Marcy handed him any. Both Heath and Evan, they’re extremely talented at what they do.”

  “Even if we were almost railroaded into making law our careers.”

  I swing around to see Evan standing there in the open French doors, his face tired but still so handsome, his hands in the pockets of his black suit pants.

  “And I never told you about my parents’ wealth, Lola, because it didn’t matter.”

  He walks toward me, and he slides an arm around my waist and he pulls me against him, kissing me gently.

  �
�Everything I have is mine, it has nothing to do with them.”

  He looks at Alicia.

  “And even if I do stand to gain something from my father’s estate, there’s no law that states I actually have to take it.”

  “You’d be crazy not to,” Alicia says, and Evan lets go of me and walks over to her.

  “You’ve seen the will, huh?”

  “I have an idea of everything Derek’s left to his family, yes. And that family includes you, Evan. Even if you hadn’t come here today, you still would’ve got what your father wanted you to have.”

  “The only thing I ever wanted from them was the truth.”

  “Evan?”

  I don’t want him to go to this funeral on edge or worked up or still harboring that bitter anger I now know he’s been feeling for too long. Or at least, I don’t want it to get any worse. And we should be going, even though I’m starting to feel a little apprehensive myself at the thought of meeting his family. So maybe we both need each other today.

  He turns to face me, and he smiles that smile and walks over to me, his hand sliding into mine and I squeeze it tight as he leans in to me, his mouth close to my ear as he speaks.

  “I love you, Lola.”

  And I love him, too. More than I ever thought I could…

  Evan

  My mother hasn’t really changed all that much, despite the years we’ve spent apart. She’s still elegantly beautiful, the only noticeable change I can see being the flecks of gray in her perfectly styled shoulder-length hair.

  She’s dressed in an expensive black and gray two piece, and I know it’s expensive because she never wears anything that isn’t. And she still carries this air about her that almost screams out to anyone within her immediate radius that she’s way more important than any of them could ever be. I guess I was once guilty of sometimes carrying that same air, before Lola walked into my world and pulled that arrogance from me.

  But as we stand here, in the sprawling hallway of Marcy and Derek King’s gated Beverly Hills home, waiting for the cars to arrive that will take us to the crematorium, it’s hard not to turn around and run from something I’m still not sure I want to be near anymore. I walked away. I started again. Coming back, this could be a mistake.

  “You look well, Evan.” My mother reaches out to brush imaginary debris from my jacket collar, a very mom-like action but one not experienced all that often by me. It’s unusual, and slightly unnerving. “And I’m assuming that is in most part to this beautiful creature beside you.”

  She turns her attention to Lola, and I grip her hand tighter in a reassuring squeeze.

  “You must be Evan’s new wife.”

  She leans forward and plants a light kiss on Lola’s cheek, enveloping her in a loose hug, but even as she does that I keep hold of Lola’s hand. Because I’m confused. My mother never really did hugs. Neither she nor my father were real big on shows of emotion, even toward their own children, Christ, they didn’t even show any to each other most of the time. I certainly don’t remember seeing them hug or kiss or even look like they were in love. And it makes me kind of sad, to think they never wanted to feel how I feel about Lola. Their marriage was one of convenience. Mine isn’t.

  “You should have told us you’d met someone, Evan.”

  Her tone is verging on admonishing, and I narrow my eyes as I look at her. “Why would I do that, huh? The situation didn’t call for me to inform you about anything concerning my private life.”

  She’s still smiling, but I can see it’s not there in her eyes now, which tells me she’s trying so hard to make this work. But I still don’t trust what’s going on here. I’m not convinced. That cynicism inside me bites too deep now.

  “This ‘situation’, as you put it, Evan, is no more. Your father’s passing has shown me where my priorities lie, and that’s with my family now. Which is why I wanted Alicia to handle everything.”

  “Including me, huh?”

  She pauses for a second, letting a couple of beats go by before she responds. “I’m not your enemy, Evan. I never was, and neither was your father.”

  I feel Lola’s grip on my hand tighten again and I squeeze back, but I keep my eyes on my mother. And when she smiles this time I really do think it’s a more genuine one, but I have every right to be wary. This isn’t how she used to be. Warm and friendly was never the norm. I’m not saying she and my father didn’t care for me and Heath, they did, they loved us, in their own way. But our home was a very regimented one, cold, even, emotionally. So to see her smile so effortlessly now, yeah. I’m wary.

  “It’s time to put the past behind us, darling. It’s time to move on and pull this family back together.”

  She turns her attention once more to Lola, reaching out to take her hand and Lola is being the woman I need her to be right now. She’s running with this, whatever it is, and she’s doing it for me.

  “And I’m so happy to see you finally settling down, Evan. And with an English girl, too.”

  “I was actually born in Brooklyn, Mrs. King. My family moved to Manchester, in northern England, when I was three years old. I grew up there. But as I got older, having American parents, knowing where I was born – I always wanted to see New York. I wanted to experience New York. I wanted to live and work there. It’s my home, after all.”

  Lola looks up at me, and she smiles the most beautiful smile and I feel my heart surge with a wave of love so strong it scares me.

  “And then I met Evan. And I knew I was never going to leave.”

  I cup her cheek and guide her face up and I kiss her, just a quick kiss, but it was a reflex action I couldn’t stop. That’s what this woman does to me, what she makes me feel. Shit I’ve never done or felt before.

  “Hey, big brother!”

  The appearance of Heath thankfully interrupts this vaguely uncomfortable, almost forced meeting with my mother. Whereas Heath, well, he’s acting like I’ve just been away on vacation instead of estranged for a number of years. And for the first time since we got here I let go of Lola’s hand and pull my younger brother in for a quick hug, because despite everything else happening here, I’m genuinely pleased to see him.

  “Hey, kiddo. It’s good to see you.”

  He steps back from me slightly, and as I look at him it’s hard to believe that we aren’t blood related, because we’re so alike in so many ways. There’s even a vague physical likeness, and not just because he’s also one good-looking son-of-a-bitch. With his dark hair, brooding eyes and tall frame we’re so similar it’s ridiculous. He also carries that same arrogance I once did, that same cocky shit, we were brothers in every sense of the word, until I found out that we weren’t. But now I think maybe we can be that again. Brothers. Because Alicia’s right. None of what happened was Heath’s fault and yet, I still chose to punish him. Because he stayed close to them?

  And then Heath turns his attention to Lola, whose hand is now back in mine, and he smiles the kind of smile that isn’t dissimilar to mine. A slightly lop-sided, arrogant smirk that I once used regularly to get me any woman I wanted. And I wonder if it’s been as successful for Heath as it once was for me.

  “Lola, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You coping okay with my brother, huh? I mean, that’s one hell of a job you’ve taken on there.”

  Lola laughs quietly, and that soft, small sound sends a shiver up my spine, I love to hear her laugh. “I’m managing to keep him in line.”

  Heath laughs, too, and suddenly the atmosphere lifts slightly, even though my mother is still here, observing everything that’s going on, because even today she isn’t willing to relinquish any of that control she’s so keen to hold onto.

  And then, as if a switch has just been flicked, we suddenly remember why we’re all here; what brought me back home in the first place.

  “The car’s are just pulling up outside,” Alicia says as she joins us in the hallway. “Are we all ready?”

  I look at Lola, and she giv
es my hand another reassuring squeeze and that’s all I need. Yeah. I’m ready.

  Eleven

  Lola

  The old Evan, he came back, as we sat there in that church and listened to so many people talk about his father – fellow lawyers, business acquaintances, clients, and friends. Heath also spoke, but Evan chose not to, and I think that was the right decision, given the circumstances. But the old Evan – the man who was once closed off and emotionally cold, he came back, while the elite of Los Angeles said goodbye to a man who was still his father, no matter what he might choose to think. And it wasn’t something I enjoyed watching, my husband reverting back to the man he’d once been, before we met. But I understand why it was something he needed to do. It’s his coping mechanism, the way he’s choosing to deal with this, so I understand, why he went back there. I’m just a little uncomfortable that he doesn’t seem to be shaking that old persona off tonight, as we once more convene in Marcy King’s Beverly Hills home for a family dinner to not only remember Derek King, but to also celebrate the return of Evan to the family fold.

  “You doing okay there?”

  I turn to see Alicia approach, and I gratefully take the glass of wine she holds out for me. We’re gathered in the drawing room for drinks and canapés before dinner, a large, sprawling, hexagonal-shaped space filled with cream couches and expensive looking wooden furniture. Brightly colored, no doubt hand-woven rugs are scattered neatly over the marble-tiled floor, ceiling-high shelves that line three entire walls are filled with books of all descriptions, from law manuals to classic novels, another two are decorated with paintings and various forms of art-work, whilst at the far end of the room a huge ornate gold-framed mirror hangs above a stunning fireplace. It’s hard not to feel intimidated in a room like this; in a house like this.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  She moves up beside me, and I’m thankful for her presence, I wasn’t feeling all that confident being left on my own.