Restrained

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by Nicole Dykes


  He looks devious and hasn’t lost the air of annoyance as he quips, “Yes. I’m sure the Lola Sterling will have no problem with luxury.”

  The way he says my name sends a shiver through me. Do I know him? “Did you Google me or something?”

  His head tilts to the right as if I'm a child, and then he shakes his head, not bothering to answer my question. “There will be a spa, a restaurant, and a theater. The rooms are massive, and I want them to smell like money but not be snooty and uncomfortable.”

  How could they not? “Got it. Luxurious. Home away from their already ostentatious homes.”

  “Better. I want them to envy the hotel. Crave it.”

  I swallow tightly, seeing the passion in his eyes while he talks about this project. “Crave a hotel?”

  “Yes.” The determination in his eyes makes me squirm a little in my seat as I raise the coffee to my lips and take a sip. His eyes watch my movements intently. “If you don’t think you can handle it . . .”

  “My partner and I are the best of the best.”

  “So I’ve heard, but word of mouth can be bought like everything else.”

  Rich prick. Just like everyone I've known. I have to believe that some things can’t be purchased, but everything I've seen over the years has proved him right and me wrong.

  “I’ll have to talk to Penelope about it, but I’ll let you know.”

  “Walk with me to my car.” My eyes widen, and I don’t move as he stands, looking at me like a petulant child not worth his time. “I have the contract there.”

  I stand reluctantly. “Most clients invite us to their office for the first meeting.”

  “I don’t let strangers in my home.”

  I scoff, rolling my eyes as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Your office is in your home? You don’t even have a separate office, and yet, you’re looking down your nose at me.”

  What is his game? Is it all for show? His suit and overall appearance scream money, but there’s something in his eyes. Something that portrays so much more. Something that seems slightly off, lacking the pedigree and staunch boredom I’ve become accustomed to around prep schoolboys, groomed to become country club men. His body creeps near my own, forcing the hair on my arms to stand on high alert as goosebumps prickle over my skin from his close contact. “I happen to like my home. I’ve worked hard for it. And you’ll sign the contract, Lola.”

  His stern tone and domineering presence does nothing to alleviate the goosebumps on my arms. “And how can you be so certain?”

  “Because you need this deal.” His full lips are mesmerizing as he stands so near. “I imagine your trust fund would seem like a whole hell of a lot to most people, but starting a business in California? Buying a house right on the beach? A brand new Bently?” His tongue flicks with furious precision. How does he know all that? “You have to be running on fumes at this point, living on debt and your father’s last name.”

  I nearly gulp, hating how accurate he is. “We’ve been successful.”

  “And yet . . . you need this.”

  I hate him. How it’s possible when we’ve just met, I'm not sure, but I hate this asshole. “I don’t bow down to anyone, no matter how dire the circumstance.”

  His eyes flick to mine and then down to my knees. “You’ll kneel at my feet and thank God I came to you for this project when you see the contract, Lola.” His fingers button his suit jacket with expert movement as he straightens his shoulders and turns toward the entrance, expecting me to follow.

  Everything in me screams not to do it.

  His confidence in the fact that I will do whatever he says sickeningly reminds me of my father and his arrogance when he told me I’d never be anything without him.

  Don’t do it, Lola.

  I grab my coffee and follow him in a huff out to his black Mercedes as he opens the passenger door, pulling out a stack of papers and handing it to me. “Go over it with your partner and both of you meet me at the address on the contract tomorrow at five. Do not be late.”

  His demands make me want to scream and tell him to shove the contract up what I'm sure is a very firm, sculpted ass.

  But I can’t.

  “I’m assuming that’s your office?” He nods, not wasting any words on me. “I thought you didn’t allow strangers into your home?”

  He closes his car door, his lips curling into a smirk. “We’re not strangers anymore.” His voice is gruff, thick with a sinister promise that makes me shiver despite the intense heat outside. “We’ll be working together as long as you don’t disappoint me.”

  I hate you.

  I look into his eyes wanting again to tell him to shove it.

  But he’s right. I look down at the contract, trying to slow my breathing and not show any shock at the massive number he’s offering for our services.

  Our business desperately needs this, and there’s no way I can deny him.

  “A real asshole, huh?”

  I grunt my very unladylike response to Penelope’s question as I prepare our salad by literally pouring it out of the bag into a glass bowl. “Yes. Awful.”

  “But the contract though . . .” She takes another sip of wine as she looks over the stack of papers in front of her on the granite counter. “Damn.”

  I nod my head, puffing a heavy breath upward and blowing my bangs out of my face. “I know.”

  “Maybe he’ll warm up to us?” She shrugs. “Or maybe he’ll be a total dick forever. I mean, with that fucking number . . .”

  I laugh, even though part of me was hoping she’d be the moral compass and tell me to turn him down.

  “I know.”

  “We need this.”

  We do. “I know,” I sigh.

  “Was he good-looking at least?”

  I raise an eyebrow in her direction. “Aren’t you with my brother?”

  She tosses her head back and laughs, happier than I've ever seen her, as she takes another sip of wine. “One hundred percent his, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

  “He’s like every man I've ever known, Penelope. Rich. Entitled. Well-groomed, and yes, he’s good-looking. The pricks always are.”

  She smiles and bites her bottom lip. I know she’s thinking about my brother which makes me slightly gag.

  “Focus.”

  She laughs again, shrugging. “Look, if you really want to turn him down, Linc has offered . . .”

  I quickly cut her off. “No.” She already knew what I would say. “I’m happy his real estate business is doing well, but so will ours. We just have to give it time, and I'm not using any more of my family’s money to do it.”

  “So using this rich prick’s money is somehow different?”

  I nod my head. Penelope grew up with nothing. She was a foster kid who had to scrape by until she moved in with us when she was a teen. Still, I feel uncomfortable discussing money with her when I've been so privileged. “Yes. At least we’ll earn it.”

  She nods her head as if she understands, although I know she thinks I'm insane. Maybe I am, but I already hate that I've used my trust fund to get us started. I also truly hate that Hayden West was right and the money is running out quickly. She’s looking in the direction of the dining room where Vivienne is helping Baz set the table, keeping her voice low. “How is she?”

  Penelope is truly an amazing person. Baz is the product of infidelity. Technically, she was with my brother Colt when he and Vivienne conceived Baz one night at a high school party. Most women wouldn’t be able to stomach being near the other woman, but Penelope doesn’t seem to blame her, nor is she bitter.

  She’s happy with Linc. I think that factors into it tremendously. “Not great. I haven’t talked to her much, but I don’t think Asher took it well when she left.”

  “I can’t imagine he would. Has he called?”

  “I don’t think so. But he will. He loves Baz more than himself, which is kind of a miracle with him.”

  She smiles knowingly as we join Baz and Viv at
the table, me carrying the salad. “That looks lovely.”

  Vivienne’s smile is beautiful as she wraps an arm around Baz, and I laugh. “You’re kind.”

  Linc barges in the front door of my house, because why not? He’s my brother and I love him, but he’s an ass. “Please tell me dinner is ready.”

  I roll my eyes as he tips Penelope’s head back and gives her an upside-down kiss hello. She rights herself as he takes a seat. “Ask Vivienne, she’s the chef.”

  Vivienne blushes slightly as she stands. “I’ll check, and I am definitely no chef.”

  Linc greets Baz, and I smile when Baz climbs up on his lap. Vivienne lights up when she walks into the dining room with a pan of delicious smelling chicken.

  “Wow. That looks amazing.” Linc stands up, leaving Baz on his chair, clearing a spot on the table for her to set it down. “Sorry, Viv. I would have carried it in.”

  She waves him off. “It’s totally fine.”

  We all sit down for dinner, but I notice Vivienne is checking her phone nervously, and I have to ask.

  “You okay?”

  Startled, she places her phone next to her. “Yes, sorry.” Her eyes dart to Baz, who’s sitting next to Lincoln in his own chair, and then meet mine. “Asher is going to call in an hour.”

  The tension noticeably grows as Penelope shifts in her seat, looking over at Vivienne cautiously. “Does he know you’re here?”

  Vivienne looks guilty, her eyes down. “No.” Then she looks at me. “I don’t have to tell him.”

  Lincoln—whose relationship with Asher is even more strained considering Asher doesn’t approve of Penelope and Lincoln being together—growls, “I’ll tell him.”

  Again, Viv looks startled, and I shake my head, standing up from the table. “No. You won’t.” Linc smiles jadedly as I focus on Vivienne. “I’ll tell him.”

  She shakes her head vehemently, but it’s not really up for discussion.

  “It should come from me, Viv.”

  “He’ll be angry.”

  I shrug and finish my wine. “I can handle it.” I grab my phone from the kitchen counter and walk out to the patio, sliding the door shut behind me and taking a seat. I dial my youngest brother for a video call and hope he will answer.

  Moments later, I smile weakly when I see his face. His hair is mussed, and he looks worn out, but it’s still so good to see his face. “Asher.”

  “What’s up, Lols?”

  “How are you?”

  “Shitty.” He’s blunt as always.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Have you talked to her?” He doesn’t have to say Vivienne’s name, and my heart squeezes, knowing how badly he’s hurting. It’s all over his face.

  “Yes.” My throat is dry, and I suddenly feel like chickening out. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.

  “Have you seen him?”

  My eyes scrunch in confusion. “Him? Baz?”

  He looks sickened and growls, “Sawyer.”

  I shake my head. “No.” I haven’t asked Vivienne about Sawyer, but I know he’s living about five miles from here in a condo and has started work with Linc.

  “So, you haven’t been to their place?”

  The bitterness in his tone makes me ache, but I have no idea what he’s talking about again. “Their place?”

  “Please don’t make me say it. I know they’re living together.”

  Did she tell him she was moving in with Sawyer? “Asher, listen to me, okay?” I take a deep breath as he watches me in confusion. “Vivienne and Baz are staying with me here at my house.”

  “What?” I can see the betrayal written all over his face, and I hate it.

  “You guys needed a break from each other, Asher. I told her she could come and stay with me for a while.”

  He was seated, but now I can tell by the phone jostling around that he’s jumped up and is pacing. “You’re the reason she went to fucking California?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Right. That motherfucker got a job with the other motherfucker.”

  Sawyer and Linc respectively. “Listen—”

  “No.” He’s angry and cuts me off quickly. “How can you do that to me? You know how much I fucking love that kid.”

  “I do.”

  “And yet you encouraged his mother to move across the country?”

  I swear I did it for him. “Asher, you guys were locked in an unhealthy war. I couldn’t just sit there and watch.”

  “Right.” His scoff is cold and holds so much meaning behind it.

  “I’ve messed up so much, Asher. I’m trying to be better.”

  “That’s just fucking great. Thanks so much for all your help, sis.”

  It’s obviously sarcastic, his rage cutting through me. “You need time to grow up. You needed space. She needed—”

  “To fuck Sawyer.”

  I gulp, his angry interruption stopping my words, but I'm tired of him acting like a child. “If that’s what she needs to heal and grow.”

  “Heal from fucking what? She left. Not me. She did. And now I find out my sister was the driving force behind it.”

  “I think you need to look in the mirror a little bit there, Ash.”

  I may have offered her a break, but it was one she was already craving. “Right.” His jaw ticks.

  “I know you’re angry now, but please just call as often as you can. Come visit him and use this time to grow.”

  His eyes seem to be looking beyond me, and I turn to look over my shoulder, seeing Viv poised at the closed glass patio door. “I’ll call Baz at the scheduled time. Make sure he answers and not her.”

  My eyes squeeze shut from the intensity of his tone. Then I open them and nod. “You guys will get through this.”

  “No. We won’t.”

  He hangs up, and the screen goes black.

  I can’t look back at Viv. Instead, I glance up at the night sky, hating how lonely and broken my brother is.

  I hope with all my heart I don’t let him down this time.

  I stare at the antique clock ticking in my office, annoyance flooding my body as I rub my temples with my hand.

  Ten after five.

  Of course, Lola Sterling hasn’t arrived yet. She’s sending me a message.

  One I don’t like.

  I hadn’t expected her to be alone. She was supposed to be with her partner, Penelope. I also hadn’t expected for her to be so annoyingly strong and stubborn.

  I’d seen her picture and had expected to run over her. Her delicate features give her a softer vibe with wispy blond hair to her shoulders and pretty bluish green eyes. Her mouth is heart-shaped with pink lips and sharp cheekbones. She’s beautiful, no doubt.

  But she’s no pushover.

  Still, she’ll bend to my will because she needs me whether she likes it or not. One look over her business financials told me that.

  My lips curl into a satisfied smile when I hear the doorbell ring through my massive home.

  I stand from my desk, fastening the buttons on my navy suit as I walk to the door and open it, seeing Lola first.

  Her blond hair is down and straight. Her makeup is subtle, and she’s wearing a light pink sleeveless blouse paired with a knee-length floral skirt and beige heels.

  Everything about her screams pampered, organized, and wealthy.

  My body is tense with irritation as my eyes flash to the woman standing next to her. This one has more of an edge with black slacks and a green sleeveless blouse. Her brown hair is pulled into a tight bun, and her eyes are stormy, full of secrets and pain.

  “You’re late.” My eyes lock with Lola’s. “Again.”

  She doesn’t flinch, not even a little bit, and my skin prickles with frustration. “This is my partner, Penelope.”

  The brunette looks to me, the right side of her mouth tilting with amusement. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. West.” She extends her hand out to me, and I take a deep breath, feeling my hand growing clammy before it me
ets hers.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

  She offers a smile and then releases my hand as I step out of the way and let them both in. Lola clings to a stack of papers pressed against her chest as I lead them to my office.

  Neither of them seem particularly impressed by my massive estate. But then again, why should they?

  Lola especially is accustomed to the finer things in life.

  I gesture toward the two wooden chairs in front of my large oak desk. They both take a seat as I take my own behind the desk, across from the women.

  “I assume you’ve had a chance to look over the contract.” My eyes don’t leave Penelope’s as I study her, her lips pursed together as she looks around my office with quiet curiosity.

  “We have, and we accept your terms,” Lola answers, snapping my attention to her. Her posture is so perfect I wonder if it hurts to remain that stiff.

  “Good.” I turn back to Penelope. “And I expect you both on this project.”

  I can feel Lola bristle, but my eyes stay on Penelope who turns nervously to Lola with a tentative laugh. “Actually,” Her eyes meet mine, and I take the opportunity to search them for any hint as to what kind of person she is. Lola was easy to read. The typical spoiled princess type I know well, who doesn’t follow anyone else’s rules because she’s not used to having them laid out for her. “You will have mostly Lola on this one. She’s far more experienced, and that will allow me to focus on our other clients while she gives you her full attention.”

  My eyes flick to Lola who doesn’t look thrilled but keeps her chin up.

  This isn’t what I wanted.

  My teeth clench as I grow more and more frustrated with her defiance. “That’s not what we agreed on.”

  “Mr. West, I assure you Lola is more than competent. She’s the one you want.”

  I turn to Penelope. No, she’s not. “Ms. Jones, I hired your company as a whole. I expected you both on this.”

  “Look, if this is some sort of weird dating thing, a way for you to meet women, you should know Penelope is very happily involved with my brother and not interested.” My chest fills with an irritate breath as I turn back to Lola, who’s looking me dead in the eye. “And I'm just plain not interested.”

 

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