Beau tossed his coffee in the nearest trash and picked up his pace. Lola was playing a game with him. She could show up just as suddenly as she’d disappeared. Was she so brave to come to his office? Nobody just picked up and left the way she had—without a plan, without anything but a bunch of cash.
He flexed his hand with the urge to grab her elbow, yank her through the nearest door and take her up against a wall before she could even explain herself. She’d wreaked havoc on his life. She’d used sex as a weapon to keep him distracted. Anger and need surged through him.
She turned a corner. He broke into a jog, weaving through the crowd of tourists and businesspeople. He rounded the block and stopped short to avoid stumbling over a large orange cone.
A short man in a headset stepped into his path. “You have to go around. Street’s closed for a photo shoot.”
The woman stood in the center of an empty, blocked-off road, surrounded by a team of people dressed in black. She turned and caught Beau staring at her. Her midnight-colored hair shone in the sun, and she shimmered in liquid gold. She wasn’t Lola.
“Hello?” The man waved his clipboard. “You can’t get through here.”
Beau backed away, keeping his eyes on her. A man in a tuxedo joined her in the street.
“Put your arms around her,” a photographer said, his camera aimed at them.
The male model took her by the waist, and she lifted her face to his.
“Don’t let him kiss you. Make him work for it.”
She put her palm on his chest, and he leaned in, but she stayed just outside his reach. The camera snapped over and over. Right before Beau turned away, the woman glanced over at him and, he could’ve sworn—smirked.
Chapter 52
Lola strained to see out the passenger’s side window. Nothing could’ve prepared her for the grandeur of the Golden Gate Bridge or the view it gave her of San Francisco. She’d spent the evening before walking around the city without seeing the same thing twice—and now, for these few seconds, she could see the entire place all at once.
She took her camera from her purse, snapped a one-handed picture out the window and put it away. She put San Francisco away—it was time to move on after only one night. Beau would be looking for her by now, and she couldn’t stay anywhere too long.
Once she was on the freeway, she checked her rearview mirror and then the speedometer. The needle hovered at seventy miles per hour. It was a crime to finally be in possession of a car like the Lotus and not be able to take flight. But Beau didn’t know how she was traveling, and she wanted to keep it that way. Information was just one of the things his money bought him, and she couldn’t afford a ticket on her record.
Lola left California behind and crossed the border to Nevada, the only other state she’d been. She passed right though and stopped at a motel in Salt Lake City in the late evening. There were few other people around. Just like she had in San Francisco, she paid the clerk in cash, bolted the door and shoved as much cash as would fit into the safe. With a bag of Doritos and a Coke from the vending machine, Lola sat on the bed and turned on the TV. She scarfed chips and flipped through every channel twice before shutting it off. The digital clock read 9:58 P.M.
On a whim, she changed into a bathing suit, took a threadbare towel and went to the pool. Having closed at ten, it was quiet and dark, so she hopped the short fence and got in the hot tub.
The door to her room was within her view. Always in the back of her mind was the cash. In the safe. In the car. Under the mattress. Stuffed into her jean pockets.
The night was cool, but the water was warm. She didn’t turn on the bubbles, afraid they’d draw attention. For the second day in a row, she’d only spoken to motel clerks and gas station attendants. Even with them, she was cautious.
She set her head back against the edge, letting the heat soothe the stiffness in her neck. The drive from San Francisco had been long, but the road ahead of her was open, proof she was free. If she decided to go south instead of north, west instead of east, right instead of left—it didn’t matter as long as she kept moving. She’d never believed in fate or destiny. There was always a master. Every choice, every decision she made put her on a new path. She wouldn’t give anyone else power over her again.
Lola couldn’t shake the feeling of a chain around her ankle, though. As if Beau would only let her get as far as he wanted, and when he decided he was ready, he’d start reeling her back in. She couldn’t lose focus. The more distance she put between them, the stronger she became—but the opposite was also true.
She wiped beads of sweat from her hairline. She’d been away from him forty-eight hours, and he was hundreds of miles away. Was it far enough to save her from him? From herself? She sank deeper into the warm water—into the torture of another memory she knew she should forget.
Lola removed her new diamond earrings and set them on the bathroom counter. She glanced up at her reflection. Beau was in the doorway, his bowtie hanging around his neck, a shadow of stubble on his jaw. He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. “When did you change?” he whispered. “I wanted to watch.”
“I never let you watch.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Lola’s heart skipped as he nuzzled her neck. The idea that he’d seen her undress without her permission made her flush. He was a dog—she knew that. He’d treated her like a dog. What made him think he could get away with that—standing just out of sight as she unzipped the long zippers of the dresses he’d bought her, unclipped the stockings of her wasted lingerie, unclasped her heavy, expensive necklaces. “You watched me?” she asked, her breath coming faster.
“Mmm.” He moved her hair aside and kissed a spot under her ear. “No. But it’s been very tempting.”
Lola inhaled a slinky breath and opened her eyes. She was hot everywhere, her body’s memory of Beau much more favorable than her mind’s. She got out of the spa, curled her toes over the edge of the dark pool and dove in. A November night in Salt Lake City wasn’t the optimal time for a swim, but the biting water shocked her system. It jarred her in a necessary way, that sudden switch from hot to cold.
Chapter 53
Beau waited at the host’s stand as a young girl wound through the diner’s empty tables. She grabbed a laminated menu from its slot and popped her gum. “One?”
“Is Dina Winters working?” Beau asked.
“Yep.”
“Seat me in her section.”
“We don’t have sections tonight,” she said. “Just one waitress on duty.”
Beau sat in a plastic booth and took the menu. Lola’s love for breakfast food made sense if this was what her mom had fed her regularly. Everything at The Lucky Egg seemed to have eggs as an ingredient.
“I know you?” came a voice.
Beau looked up at a woman with burgundy hair and gray roots. Her apron folded between the rolls of her stomach. “Are you Dina?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
“I’m a friend of Lola’s.”
“Oh.” She tapped the end of her pen against her order pad. “Then, yeah. That’s my daughter.”
“Do you have a minute?”
She looked around the restaurant. “I got lots of minutes, but what’s this about? Is Lola all right?”
Beau gestured to the seat across from him. “I just want to talk. I’ll pay for your time.” It came out like a bad habit. Money solved his problems all the time, but he wondered when it’d become second nature—especially outside of work.
Dina snorted but didn’t object. The booth whooshed when she sat. “You got ten seconds to tell me what you’re after.”
“Lola.”
“Nine seconds.”
“Have you seen her?”
“Since when?”
He rubbed his chin. “Forty-eight hours?”
The woman laughed. “You got the wrong person. I think I’ve talked to her two or three times in as many years. Johnny calls now and
then, good boy that he is. If not for him, I wouldn’t know nothing about her.”
Beau looked at the table. He’d doubted she’d know much, but this was worse. His palms began to sweat.
“She owe you money or something?”
“No,” Beau said emphatically, looking up again. “I’m just trying to get in touch with her.”
“Oh. Well, she works at a bar not too far from here on Sunset Strip. Hey Joe—you know it?”
Beau scrubbed his palm over his stubbled jawline and nodded. “I know the place.”
“She’s got a boyfriend, though—Johnny. And he’s good to her. So whatever you’re after, might be best you just walk away.”
“Thanks for the tip,” he said dryly.
“Sure. Now, what can I get you?”
Beau cocked his head. “What?”
She pointed her pen at the menu. “To eat, honey.”
“I don’t care.” He slid it away. “Whatever you recommend. Breakfast food.”
“Coming right up.”
He considered leaving. If Dina thought Lola was still with Johnny, she was worse off than him. She waddled over to the counter, ripped off his ticket and refilled a water glass at the only other table with a customer. Beau didn’t want breakfast food. He wanted to find Lola.
His cell vibrated in his pocket, and he answered it immediately. “Bragg?”
“More dead ends. I can’t find anyone named Lola Winters staying in the area. I can go national, but can you give me some kind of direction? Maybe a favorite spot?”
Beau had nothing. He could probably rule out Las Vegas since she’d been there. Apparently, that was how well he knew the woman he’d fallen in love with. “Motels?” Beau asked.
“Nope.”
“Airports? Car rentals? Fucking train stations?”
Bragg was silent.
“Damn it,” Beau said.
“There’s one thing I haven’t tried. Hospital and jail records.”
Beau looked down at the table. For a shameful moment, he preferred that to the alternative. In jail, in a hospital, she would need him. There’d be no pretense. He could handle those situations better than anyone he knew, whether it was getting her the best care or paying off whomever he needed to if she were in trouble. Anything was better than not knowing why. Or where. Or if. If she’d really left on purpose, or if this was all some big misunderstanding.
“Search them,” Beau said. “Every few hours until we know more.”
He hung up as Dina set an oversized dish of French toast in front of him. It must’ve been a joke. Lola had to be watching from the kitchen, laughing at him in her carefree way. Like the time she’d thrown her body into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“…come have breakfast in bed with me,” she said.
“If you insist, though I don’t really see the point.”
“There’s no point. This isn’t a negotiation or a board meeting where there needs to be an explanation for everything. There’s absolutely no fucking point at all, and that is the point.”
Beau understood that conversation better now, after having spent more time with her. He was the one who’d set parameters around his life, and he was the one who could tear them down. Breakfast for dinner. Eating where he slept. They were childish things, but they weren’t illegal—he’d gawked at her as if they were.
“Come on. Eat up,” Dina said. “It was Lola’s favorite. Mine too.”
Beau took a reluctant, painful, memory-filled bite. His mouthful of syrup tasted like Lola.
“Can I get you anything else?” Dina asked.
Beau needed her to keep talking so he could survive that French toast. For the first time in two days, he didn’t feel an ounce of anger. “Did she grow up near here?”
Dina glanced around the diner. Her other customer had his eyes glued to the overhead TV set. “Five or so minutes away,” she said. “How’d you say you know her?”
Beau wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. “I guess you could say we worked together once.”
“Oh.” Her mom nodded high, keeping her eyes on Beau. “I see. Well, Lola only worked at two places in her life, so I got a pretty good idea what you’re getting at.”
Beau didn’t look away, though he wanted to. When had he ever faced the family of someone he’d screwed over? Beyond Johnny, he’d never considered how hurting Lola might extend to those who loved her.
“Hang on,” Dina said. “There was that 7-Eleven she worked at for a while as a cover up for what she was really doing. She must’ve thought I was dumb to believe money like that came from selling bubblegum and cigarettes.” Her smile fell. “Completely slipped my mind. But no, I’m not about to believe that’s where you know her from.”
Beau smiled thinly. “It’s not.” Walking into a 7-Eleven years ago and coming face to face with a young Lola might’ve changed his life. Before his money, he’d been like any other boy trying to get a girl’s attention. For the most part, he was too distracted by work to care, but he couldn’t imagine walking away from Lola back then, before he’d ever tasted power—or rejection.
“She never worked here?” he asked.
“This place? You mean the diner with quicksand floors?” She laughed at her joke. “People get stuck here. Mario in the kitchen came in to use the restroom twenty years ago. I didn’t want that for her. She can do better than her old lady.”
“Lola’s very smart,” Beau agreed.
“Pity she got stuck on the Strip,” she said.
“At Cat Shoppe, you mean?”
Dina eyed him. “No. I’m talking about Hey Joe, where I said she works now. Not that I did any better for myself, but I wanted her to become something. She was a proud little girl, though.”
“Pride’s not always a bad thing.”
“You don’t watch out, pride’ll get you. Lola didn’t want nobody telling her what to do, especially me. Thought she knew better. She had a fighting spirit. Too much. Then she hooked up with Johnny, and he calmed her down lots, but while she’s with him, she won’t go much of anywhere.” Dina was barely looking at him anymore. “Johnny’s a good man, but sometimes I wonder where she’d be now if she hadn’t met him. Maybe this whole side of town’s quicksand.”
A hint of thickness in her voice made Beau wonder if she missed her daughter. “Why don’t you two speak?”
Dina shook her head slowly and looked up at the ceiling a moment. “I wasn’t a good mom. I know that. She knew it too since she was little. Like you said—she’s smart. Smarter than anyone in my family.”
Beau’d heard enough of Lola’s childhood to know Dina could’ve done better. The fact that she kept Lola out of the diner said something, though. She saw the same potential in Lola Beau had. “I’m sure you weren’t as bad as you think.”
She snorted. “When I got pregnant with her, I quit smoking. Not because I was worried about the baby, but because it made me sick. Nausea, heartburn, all that. I was pissed about it, thought it was unfair. I loved my cigarettes. What’s that say about me?”
One of her bushy eyebrows crinkled. He wanted to tell her that everybody made mistakes and that most people never copped to them. They went on thinking they’d been good people. Beau had seen it in business time and time again—those who owned their mistakes, like Beau, were successful because they didn’t make them a second time.
“Anyway, when I found out about the stripping,” she continued, “I told her to stop. Said I hadn’t done much for her in my life, but I was putting my foot down. I think that made her want to do it more.”
So Lola had been stubborn from the start. It didn’t surprise him, and he understood why someone like Johnny had tried to tame her. Wild horses were as easy to lose as they were to love. “Were you ever close?”
“No. I never planned for her. It was her dad who wanted a kid until he had one. He bolted when he realized it wasn’t all fun and games. Took me a lifetime to get over it, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want
good things for her.”
It’d been a while since Beau had taken an interest in anyone’s life when it didn’t benefit him. Even Brigitte. He set down his fork and got comfortable in his seat. “Tell me more.”
“Not much to tell. She was young when he left, and I got all the responsibility I never wanted. And no money, either. He took what little we had, the low-life scum. Anyway, I’m not trying to dump the past on you—not like I even think about this anymore. You asked why we don’t speak—answer’s that we just don’t got anything to say to each other. She lets Johnny do the talking.”
“Sounds like the same bull-headed Lola I know.” Syrup dripped over the sides of his toast, pooling on Beau’s plate. “Knew, I mean.”
“You work downtown?”
Beau looked up again. Dina’s eyes were narrowed on him. “Am I that obvious?” he muttered.
“You don’t look like you belong in these parts.”
“These parts? This is Hollywood, for God’s sake. It’s not like we’re on Skid Row.”
“You just don’t look like it.”
“I grew up not far from here,” Beau said defensively. He was beginning to think it was more than just his suit that gave him away. It shouldn’t have bothered him that he’d risen so high above his social beginnings, he was unrecognizable to his peers—he’d worked hard for that kind of esteem—but it did. He’d been one of them once. And his success hadn’t come without struggle or sacrifice. “For twenty-seven years, I barely had enough to get by. I didn’t grow up spoiled or privileged. Why is that so hard for everyone to believe?”
Dina’s face was harder now. “Tell me what you’re really doing here.”
“I already did. Looking for a girl I used to know who told me once her mother worked at The Lucky Egg.”
Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5) Page 48