He opens the box and I stand up to look inside.
“Carrot cake with extra cream cheese frosting and shredded walnuts. Your favorite.”
I look at him, and I know what he’s doing. I just wish he wasn’t doing it. “I’ll ask again, why are you giving me cake?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“No one needs a reason to give me cake, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have one.”
“I can take it back…”
He shuts the lid and I grab it from him, putting it safely down on my desk. “Oh no, it’s mine now. But, come on, what do you want?”
“Where are you staying?”
“You don’t need to know where I’m staying.”
“Jesus… come on, Lola. What’ve I done to make you feel the need to stop me from knowing where you’re living now?”
“This, Mike. This is what you’ve done – what you’re doing.”
“We’re meant to be together, Lola. I messed up first time around, I know that, but you and me – we’re meant to be together.”
I look at him as I sit back down, glancing behind me into Evan’s office. He’s at his desk, working, but I know he’ll be watching this exchange. As far as me and Mike are concerned, he watches everything.
“Again, it’s a pity you couldn’t have come to that conclusion three months ago. Before you left me at the altar.”
He sighs, drops his head and rakes both hands back through his hair. “You’re not gonna let it go, are you?”
“I could just forget about it, if you like? Would that make you feel better?”
“Lola…”
“Haven’t you got work to do?”
“You can’t avoid me, Lola.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m getting that.”
“And the more I’m around, the more I’m right there, in your space, making you face up to what I know you still feel for me, the more you’ll see I’m right. I love you, okay? And you can’t stop me from feeling that, you can’t control what’s going on in my head. And I know you’re trying to be cold, trying to pretend this isn’t happening, but it is. It’s happening. And me and you? We’re happening too.”
I watch him stride away from my cubicle, and then I glance behind me and, yeah. Evan’s watching me. He lifts a hand and beckons me into his office and I push my chair back and go inside, closing the glass door behind me.
“What was all that about?”
“He was giving me cake. Do you want some?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Lola, I’m not in the mood.”
“And I don’t think you interrogating me over every conversation I have with my ex is part of our deal.”
He stands up and walks over to me, his hands in his pockets, his eyes boring into mine. “I think it is.”
“Are you threatened by your new junior partner, Mr. King?”
He laughs, and his eyes never leave mine, his expression doesn’t waver. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask that.” He leans into me, so close his mouth is touching my ear. “File room. Five minutes.” And then he steps away and sits back down at his desk, he’s dismissing me. Because this is how it is. This is how it works. I never was in control, I just thought I was. I thought I could be, but I’m not. I can’t be. He holds the power and that’s never going to change. And I hate myself for not even wanting it to.
I leave his office, grab the cake and my mug from my desk and head to the kitchen. I need a breather before I bow to another of his rare requests to take me at work, because it isn’t the norm. It’s too dangerous, too close to home, but he’s obviously frustrated enough by Mike and whatever he thinks I have with him to need some kind of release.
“Is that cake?” Jess asks as she joins me at the counter.
I open the box and slide it toward her. “Mike gave it to me.”
“Your face is telling me this isn’t a good thing. Can I?”
I nod and hand her a knife, watching as she cuts into the cake and helps herself to a slice.
“I so need a sugar hit this morning. I’ve just come out of a pretty awkward deposition and now I’ve got an afternoon of trying to sort out the mess it’s caused.” She looks at me. “You not having any?”
I shake my head. “Not hungry.”
She leans back against the counter. “He’s not giving up, is he?”
“He’s really not making it easy, Jess. But I can’t let him get to me. I can’t go back there. I still love him, so much, I really do, but…” Saying those words out loud, it scares me. I’ve always known it; always known I never stopped loving Mike, but when I say the words out loud it makes the whole fucked up situation I’m now in so real because – because it is real. I can hide away in that bubble I surround myself with when I’m with Evan, I can do that. I can try and convince myself that I’m pushing Mike further and further away but I’m not. Not really. I’m just kidding myself. And I’m not that naïve. I’m just trying to protect myself, and I’ll continue to protect myself because loving Mike Carrington hurt me too much. And losing him killed me.
“You’re putting yourself through so much crap, Lola. And do you know what I think?”
I look at her, and actually, I’d like to know what she thinks. I’d like someone to try and help me, push me into making some kind of decision because I don’t think I can carry on like this. I said I wouldn’t leave Cavendish King, that I loved this job too much to walk away just because Mike was here. But in reality I love him too much to stay and risk being worn down to the point where I leave myself open to more pain and hurt. And this thing with Evan, it won’t last. He’ll get bored eventually, men like him always do. And what happens to me then? It doesn’t matter what he’s told me, what he’s promised me, when it comes down to it he’ll only ever save himself. I’m indispensible.
“I think you should give him a chance.”
Her words aren’t actually what I’d expected to hear, and I’m a little shocked. But then, she has no idea about Evan.
“He loves you, that’s obvious, and I’m not saying that what he did to you… That was wrong, on so many levels, and I can understand why you’re so reluctant to go there again, but… maybe you should think about it. Let go of the anger a little. And I know that isn’t easy, but, if you do that, if you let that anger go and try and see him for the man he is now, you might think differently. If you love him, Lola, then he is yours. He’s yours.”
She takes another bite of cake and smiles at me, and I don’t actually know what to think anymore.
“All right. I’ll leave you alone now. You’ve probably had enough of my amateur physcology, and I’ve got a ton of paperwork to wade through, so, I’ll see you later. Okay?”
I smile and nod and walk over to the small window at the back of the kitchen, folding my arms and looking outside and I don’t even flinch when I feel him come up behind me, feel his hand on my waist and I know it’s him, because I’d know his touch anywhere.
“I heard what Jess just said to you.”
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s bad manners.”
“Are you taking her advice?”
I turn around and he drops his hand, slipping it into his pocket. “I don’t know, Mike. I don’t know what to think right now. Everything’s such a mess.”
He steps forward and takes my hand, his fingers sliding between mine and I feel my whole body sag because when he touches me – it’s safe. Familiar. And all I need to do is keep hold of his hand and tell him I love him and we can start again, but I’m not going to. I’m too wary, too frightened to do that. So I let go of him and walk away, I need to get to Evan.
I practically run down to the file room, and by the time I get there my heart’s beating so fast and so hard I can barely breathe. I open the door and look inside and it’s quiet. He’ll have made sure it’s quiet, but I flick the lock on the back of the door anyway, just to be sure.
“You’re late.”
I look up and he’s there, his jacket slung over the back of a
chair, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his hands in his pockets. “I was talking to Jess. I couldn’t just end the conversation, what was I supposed to say? Sorry, Jess, I’ve got to go screw my boss.”
“That smart mouth of yours is back, I see.”
I walk over to him, and my stomach’s turning somersaults and I know why. I know exactly why. I take hold of his tie and pull him toward me, smiling as his mouth just touches mine. “Would you like this smart mouth anywhere in particular, Mr. King?”
He laughs quietly, and then he grabs my wrist and swings me back against the shelving units, his hands sliding up my dress, pushing it up over my hips as boxes fall from the shelves, clattering to the floor, and neither of us care.
He’s kissing me so hard he’s almost sucking the breath out of me, my throat’s tight but it’s a beautiful pain, and then he slides his fingers into the sides of my panties, and he pushes them down and I wriggle free of them, tossing them to one side as he lifts me up, slamming me back against the units, causing more boxes to fall and spill their contents onto the floor around our feet.
He’s inside me, pushing into me with a force verging on violent but I’m finding it almost cathartic, like he’s pulling all the shit I’m trying to avoid out of me, discarding it with every thrust of his powerful cock and I’m taking it all. His kisses help muffle my cries, his fingers grasp mine tight as he fucks me hard and fast and it takes just minutes before he’s coming, I don’t think he cares whether I’m there yet or not. I’m not sure I care. I came in here numb and ready to give him whatever he wanted to take from me because that’s my job. It just felt different this time, like I was on auto-pilot; like I was letting him fuck me but I wasn’t really there, I was somewhere else, watching it happen.
He holds me tight as his breathing starts to slow down, and I cling onto him. I close my eyes and bury my face in his hair, breathing him in, the smell of his expensive cologne filling my head and that’s when I feel it; when I feel the cold, hard reality of the mess I’m in start to hit home. And I let him go, feel him pull out of me and I stand up, crouching down to retrieve my panties, slipping them back on and repositioning my dress. I shake out my hair and breathe in deep and I’m ready to go back out there and get on with my day.
“You’ve got a meeting at the D.A.’s office at two. Do you need me to prepare anything for you before you go?”
He rolls down his shirtsleeves and slips his jacket back on, pushing a hand through his hair. “No. I have everything I need.”
“Then I’m going to go and grab a coffee, before I tidy up in here. You should get going. You don’t want to be late.”
He looks at me, and he stays silent. But I can feel his stare burning into the back of my neck as I head for the door, flick the lock and leave the room.
Did he get what he needed from me in there?
Did I?
I’m really not that sure anymore.
Evan
She’s been talking to Mike. She may well have been speaking to Jess, too, but I could smell him on her. He wears a very distinctive cologne, one very different to mine and I could smell it, on her. So he’s been close, close enough to leave traces of himself on her skin. And she felt different, when I was fucking her. She felt tense, and it may not have bothered me at the time, I had other things on my mind, but now it’s over; now she’s gone, I know something’s happened. That exchange I saw between her and Mike at her desk earlier; something’s going on. But that obviously wasn’t their only meeting before she came here to give herself to me.
So I need to move that little bit faster now. I need to face up to what’s going on in my head, I need to tell her. And for once in my life I’m fucking terrified.
Eighteen
Lola
“Where are we going?”
I look out of the window of Evan’s Lexus, and I recognize the route we’re taking. I know where we’re heading now.
“We’re going to your apartment.” I look at Evan. “Why are we going to your apartment? You said you wanted me to look at a place you thought I might like before I went and checked out these other ones I’m supposed to be looking at today, but…”
“I do want you to look at a place I think you’d like. And that’s where we’re going. To look at it.”
I frown, but I don’t argue. I just sit back and look out of the window again, but when we pull up outside his building I turn back to face him. “What’s going on, Evan?”
Frank opens the door and I climb out onto the sidewalk and wait for Evan to come round. “Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me inside, and I stay silent as we head for the elevator. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much last night. Stayed up watching box sets and eating cold pizza. Did you have a good night with Dana?”
“Business dinners are never that much fun, Lola. But, in terms of us moving forward with Jackson Gray’s case, we’re getting there.” The elevator stops a few floors below Evan’s penthouse apartment, and when the doors slide open he takes my hand again and we walk out into a bright, airy hallway.
There are only two doors on this floor, which tells me that the apartments here in this particular section of the building must be pretty big, and I feel my stomach twist up into a nervous knot. “Evan… what are we doing here?”
He doesn’t reply, he just leads me to the door at the farthest end of this seemingly private foyer and retrieves a key from his pocket, opening the door and leading me inside.
“Jesus…” I gasp as I take in the view from the huge wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. The open-plan living area is flooded with light, the sun bouncing off the wood flooring and I let go of his hand and walk further inside, my head turning this way and that as I take a closer look around. There are two dark-brown over-stuffed couches at the far end of the room, which at first seem at odds with the almost stark white and cream décor, but in fact they add a touch of coziness to the place. Between the couches is a low, smoked-glass coffee table, and they’re all sitting on a large, dark-cream rug, everything positioned to make the most of that stunning view. And I have to take a second to catch my breath before I walk a little further into the room, turning a corner that leads into a good-sized light, bright kitchen with a small dining area situated right beside another floor-to-ceiling bay window. It’s beautiful. But I still have no idea what I’m doing here.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“Who wouldn’t?” I swing back around to look at him. “Why am I here, Evan?”
“It’s yours. This place. If you want it.”
I don’t say anything for a second or two, I can’t. I walk back into the open-plan living area, and I take another look around, taking in more of the décor, the furniture, the ridiculously high ceiling that makes it feel so spacious. “I can’t afford somewhere like this.”
“I can.”
I turn sharply back to face him, shaking my head. “No. No, Evan, I’m not doing that. How the hell would that look? People know I can’t afford somewhere like this on my salary.”
“How you pay for anything is nobody else’s business.”
“You make everything sound so simple. But I’m not taking your money. There are plenty of apartments on my list that are well within my price range, and I need to go check them out, not waste my time with something like this.”
He comes over to me, but I’m already heading for the door. “Something’s changing, Lola. And I need to know what that is.”
I stop and bow my head, closing my eyes and breathing in deep before I turn back around. “You keep throwing crazy shit at me, Evan, and all that does is make me nervous.”
“Nervous?” He frowns, but his eyes are still locked on mine, his stare intense.
“This isn’t me.”
“It could be. If you want it; if you let it.”
“Letting it means letting you take more control, Evan, and I think I’ve given you enough. I need to go now, okay? Or I’m going to be late viewing the first apart
ment.”
I start to walk away, but his voice stops me.
“Lola, please. Just give me a minute.”
I throw back my head and sigh quietly but, again, I turn around to face him. “I really need to go, Evan.”
“And I really need you here. In this apartment, in this building, in my fucking bed, Lola, I need you. Here.”
I blink a few times, because he’s really confusing me now. He thinks things are changing, and he might be right. But I don’t think it’s just me who’s changing. I think he is, too. And I think that’s what’s making me nervous.
“I need to think, Evan. I need some space and I need to think so this – this is going to have to wait.”
“Lola…”
“Can we just… can we not do this, now? Please? Can we just give ourselves some space?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Are you going to tell me that’s not part of our agreement? Giving ourselves space?”
He walks over to me, and he tucks a finger under my chin and he kisses me, so softly, so gently that responding is nothing more than a reflex action that happens before my brain can get a message to my head. He pulls me close, his mouth still moving against mine, and I slide a hand around the back of his neck, my fingers stroking his skin as the kiss deepens. And then something suddenly snaps inside of me, and I pull back, pull my hands away from him, like he’s on fire or something.
“No, I… I can’t do this, Evan. I can’t… I need to go…”
“Lola, please…”
I shake my head again and make for the door.
“Get Frank to take you, to the apartments you’re viewing this morning. Get him to take you.”
I hold his gaze, his eyes still burning into mine. “Thank you.”
His expression is impassive; stoic as ever. And he doesn’t say anything, he stays silent, and I feel my world take another slight shift, and it’s like a kick to the gut.
“I’m sorry, Evan. I really am sorry.”
Evan
She’s sorry. I just don’t know what for. But her words – what’s happening here, maybe that was a warning sign. A signal that I almost made a mistake here, and I’m being pulled back from the brink. But as she closes the door behind her I let the mask slip; I feel my shoulders sag and I lean back against the wall, pushing a hand through my hair.
Lawfully His (A Dirty Business Novel Book 1) Page 15