Obsession: Seven Vices Series

by Blythe, Emily

  I leaned over, taking him in with an insincere hug goodbye. “I’ll call you later.”

  He looked confused. “Sure. Don’t forget!”

  “I won’t!” I practically sprinted to the door. With one last cheesy grin, I pushed the heavy diner door open and stepped out onto the street.

  I don’t even remember how I got home. It was a blur. All I could do was replay the conversation over and over in my mind until my anger built to a fever pitch.

  I laid on my bed the second I got into my room. It wasn’t really anger at all.

  I sighed, rolling onto my side and curling into a ball.

  It was embarrassment. I never thought I’d ever feel as humiliated as I had last Christmas Eve. I’d never been rejected like that before.

  But now I understood.

  Commitment was never a problem for Noah. I was.

  I wasn’t what he wanted, and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

  My face flushed hot. I’m such an idiot.

  I closed my eyelids, forcing a tear to fall down my cheek and onto my nose. I was faintly aware of Lillian knocking on the door, asking if I was okay.

  I didn’t want to speak. I just wanted to lay there.

  But I didn’t get that option. Startling me, my phone buzzed from inside my bag.

  Groaning, I leaned over and reached inside, pulling it out.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  It was a text from Gia, asking me to call her back. She had a job for me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Julian

  “No Detective Howell, that’s not fucking good enough.”

  Detective Howell sighed on the other side of the phone. Getting this lazy dick to do anything was always a pain in the ass.

  “Look, Mr. Lewin. I told you until we get a new lead, we can’t do anything. We’re at a dead end.”

  “I’ve sent you the new witness statements my guy uncovered. Did you see the one from the waitress at the bar?”

  He paused before clearing his throat. “Yes, and I don’t think it’s enough to go on. We can’t run around arresting people based on hearsay.”

  “This guy is fucking shady. What’s it going to take for you take this seriously? Does someone else have to disappear?”

  “Look, getting upset about it won’t help.”

  “Upset?” I loosened my collar. This wasn’t my fucking day. “You haven’t seen upset.”

  He droned on with his monotone voice. “If and when we get an actionable lead, we’ll follow it up. Barring that, we’d actually need a body before we could open a murder investigation.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  They’d been pitching the same line for years now. Nothing can happen without a body.

  I paused, staring out the window at the traffic lined street. Something reflected in the glass—a silhouette. Someone was standing in the doorway behind me. I turned around, my phone still up to my ear.

  It was her. She was here.

  “I have to go,” I snapped at the detective, ending the call before he could respond.

  I cleared my throat and glanced up at her. “Lola.”

  “Hey.” She stepped inside the living room, flashing me her characteristic deer-in-headlights look. The one that drove me insane... in all the right ways. Even though the thoughts it evoked were, oh, so wrong.

  Maybe this was a bad idea. I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Is this okay?” She flattened out the wrinkles in her tight, black pencil skirt. “I wasn’t sure if it was formal enough.” My gaze drifted to her long, toned legs and high heels.

  Yes, it was a terrible idea.

  “It’s perfect.” I flicked back to her face.

  Eyes up, Lewin. Today’s all about business.

  She absorbed the size of the grandiose living room. “Wow. This place is incredible. Is it yours?”

  “No. It’s extraordinary, though, isn’t it?” I peered up at the intricate plastered ceilings. “It’s rare for a mansion to come onto the market around here. We mostly sell apartments.”

  She took in the floor to ceiling windows, adorned with white flowing curtains that softened the tone of the sleek, modern decor. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It should be. The owners spent a load of cash remodeling it. Now they’re counting on me to make their money back.”

  “It’s a listing?”

  I nodded. “My best, actually. Which is why I require your help today—I’m in a bit of a bind.”

  I signaled for her to follow me through the hallway toward the kitchen. “Let me give you a tour, in case they ask you questions.”

  “Wait. What?” She froze in the middle of the corridor. Her expression was priceless.

  I slipped my phone back into my pocket. “There’s an open house here today, and half my team is out sick with stomach flu. I need all the help I can get.”

  The whites of her eyes grew larger. “No, no.” She shook her head. “This isn’t happening. I’m not a realtor.”

  I thought she might have that reaction.

  “Come on.” I continued walking down the corridor. She chased after me.

  “I’m serious, Julian!” She strained out. “Who hires an escort to work at an open house?”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned to her. “Shh. None of that escort stuff today,” I whispered. “I don’t need my employees to learn that little gem, all right?”

  Lola put her hands on her hips and glared.

  It was cute as fuck.

  Focus, Lewin. Focus.

  “This isn’t normal,” she gritted out.

  I leaned toward her. “Neither is an escort who doesn’t sleep with clients.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, looking puzzled.

  “They give us a file on the girls, too, you know.” I continued. “You only offer the ‘silver’ service. No touching allowed. It’s somewhat unusual given the occupation you’ve chosen, don’t you think?”

  Her expression hardened. “Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black!” She strode forward, getting into my face.

  In my peripheral vision, I caught a figure turning into the hallway. We weren’t alone.

  Before I could stop our exchange, Lola formed a playful grin with those plump peach lips. “What kind of john hires a hooker who he knows he can’t fu--”

  “Paige!” I interrupted Lola before she could finish her sentence. Paige had appeared behind her.

  Although, a part of me wished Lola had finished that statement. The thought of a certain four-letter word tumbling from her delicate mouth stirred a warmth deep in my chest. I pulled at my collar to loosen it.

  “Paige. This is Lola.” I attempted to regain my composure. “Lola, this is Paige. She’s one of my top realtors.”

  Paige studied Lola like a hawk. She pursed her lips as she gave Lola a half-hearted handshake, before shifting her attention to me. “We only have five minutes, and I don’t even have the drinks poured.”

  “That’s why Lola’s here,” I replied. “I was going to show her around—”

  Paige’s nose twitched. “There’s no time for that. We need to serve the champagne.”

  I sighed. Paige wasn’t a nice person, she was territorial, competitive—the best in my team. She wouldn’t take Lola’s presence lightly.

  “Fine. Take Lola. Give her a task to do. She’s happy to help... isn’t that right?” I narrowed my gaze at Lola, curious about what she’d say.

  Lola forced a smile. “Can I speak to you for one minute, Julian?” She glanced at Paige. “Alone.”

  I frowned at her, but she didn’t relent.

  “Sure.” I gestured for her to go into the kitchen ahead of me.

  When we were out of hear-shot from Paige, Lola spun around, arms folded across her chest. “You don’t want me to help. Trust me. I’m not good at this stuff. I’m barely employable.”

  This woman was an enigma—confident and outgoing one second—shy and self-deprecating the next.

  I brushed my f
ingers through my hair. “You’ll be fine. You’re perfect for this.”

  She peered off into the distance. “I’ll embarrass you...”

  When she looked back at me, her gaze was pleading.

  Her anxiety stirred something inside me. It was uncomfortable—making me aware of how dry my throat was. I didn’t bring her here just to make her feel inadequate.

  “Look.” My tone softened. “You’re smart and attractive...” I swallowed. “And you have that innocent thing going on that hard-assed rich guys can’t help but want to...” I drifted off, realizing I’d gotten carried away—that train of thought was not PG.

  Her eyes widened, a pink hue spreading across the milky skin of her neck.

  “What I mean is—” I stuck my hand in my pocket “—your funny and articulate, and all I need is for you to be yourself. You’ll be better than half the interns I’ve worked with—most of them can’t tie their own shoelaces. Just help Paige, be your charming self, and I’ll owe you big time, okay?”

  She hesitated, nibbling her top lip. The flush of rose had reached her cheeks. She was blushing? Did I say too much?

  I’d only spoken the truth.

  Although, that often got me into trouble...

  After a few seconds of contemplation, she responded. “I’ll do it. But you don’t owe me. You’re paying me, remember?”

  I smirked. “Your pay rate is a hell of a lot more than my assistant’s. Trust me, I know.”

  * * *

  The open house went better than expected, with several serious leads presenting themselves by the afternoon. The champagne and canapes had gone down a treat too, and so had Lola.

  I’d had to practically shoo Mr. Livingston away from her, dragging him off to look at the heated indoor pool. Dirty old bastard.

  After I said goodbye to the last buying agent, I shut the front door. I headed into the kitchen, where Lola was packing the champagne flutes into a crate. Paige was downstairs, securing the other entrances before we could leave.

  “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” I picked up a piece of pineapple from the leftover fruit platter and popped it into my mouth.

  She looked up. “Well... I only broke three champagne flutes... so I guess that’s a win.”

  I chuckled, leaning back against the counter-top opposite her. “You did great. The clients loved you.”

  She threw me a daggered stare. “Particularly the older, womanizing ones.”

  “Not into older men, are you? I really do think you’ve chosen an unfortunate career if that’s the case...” My tone was playful. She knew I was stirring the pot.

  She placed an arm on her hip. “I don’t have a father, but that doesn’t mean I have daddy issues.”

  “No, father, huh?”

  She went back to arranging the glasses. “No. I mean, I do biologically, but he left when I was small. Disappeared in the night, with only a note to explain himself. He just couldn’t handle the responsibility.”

  She stared past me as if remembering something before she continued. “That’s why my mom is the way she is.” She paused, flicking her eyes back to me. “She’s convinced that women are delusional to think they can fix a man. That there’s no such thing as a happy ending.” She looked somber.

  I shifted on my feet. “Maybe she’s right.”

  She looked at me skeptically.

  “At least about the happy ending thing. That’s a Hollywood fallacy.” I pushed myself away from the bench.

  Lola’s face dropped. “I don’t believe that. But don’t worry, I’m used to hearing it. Especially from my mom.”

  She shook her head and focused back on her task, looking more deflated than ever.

  Well, shit. Don’t tell me the escort believes in glass slippers and fairy-godmothers.

  I stood awkwardly as I watched her. I felt bad... she’d done me a massive favor, and here I was shitting all over her hopes and dreams.

  “Hey, so I thought we could grab a bite to eat, a coffee... whatever... are you up for that?” I brushed my fingers back through my hair. Why the fuck did I feel nervous?

  She looked surprised. “Now?”

  I tapped my fingers on the counter. “You know, to say thank you.” For some reason, it felt awkward to say it. “I mean, I’ll pay you for your time.”

  “Oh. Right.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s not an order.”

  She nodded. “I know. I want to.”

  It was hard to believe her. Was she just humoring me? What had her so perturbed?

  For the first time, it dawned on me—maybe she couldn’t stand me. This was her job. Maybe I was her pain-in-the-ass client… the one she dreaded.

  Either way, it was too late to back out without looking like a complete jerk. I simply nodded and told her I’d meet her out front in ten minutes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lola

  I sipped from my coffee cup as the waiter placed down our meals.

  “You know, I have to say when I signed up with Una Dea, I didn’t exactly have this in mind.” I smiled. “The open houses, I mean.”

  “No?” Julian leaned back. “What exactly did you expect? You know…” He took a pause. “I’ve been wondering why the hell you signed up with Gia in the first place.”

  “I told you. I’m barely employable. With this work, I can at least get through school. Then, hopefully, I’ll get an internship with a designer once I graduate.”

  “You’re studying fashion design?”

  I nodded.

  “What made you choose it?” He moved the salmon around on his plate. His voice was sincere, like he was interested in the answer. Interested in me.

  “You know how I was telling you I didn’t have much access to the outside world when I was a kid?”

  He nodded.

  I continued. “Well, once a month, someone had to go to the market to get supplies in bulk, just the stuff we couldn’t grow ourselves. When we were teenagers, it was my friend, Noah’s job to do that. There were always a few dollars left, and he’d pocket it, buy me a fashion magazine and sneak it to me when he got back. After a while, I had a stash of them that I had to hide from my mom.”

  Julian looked confused. “You had to hide them?”

  “She would have killed me if she found out. She didn’t want me to be ‘indoctrinated’ by popular culture. My mom controlled everything in my life, even home-schooled me. I couldn’t escape it. I felt so trapped.” I sighed. “But it only made me hungry for it. Hungry to know more about life beyond One Tree. Those magazines were my lifeline. They were everything.”

  “That’s when you became interested in design?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I didn’t really care much for the articles, but I loved the photoshoots. The settings, the gorgeous models, the couture gowns... life seemed perfect on the pages of those magazines. Noah ended up getting me sketchbooks too, so I could draw my own designs. I applied for design school here... and the rest is history.”

  He stopped his fork halfway to his mouth. “What did your mom think of you moving here?”

  “She freaked out.” I took a sip of hot coffee. “We didn’t talk for a year. Then, I think she realized that she would lose me. Now we talk on the phone. She got one just so I could call her. But I can’t really talk about my life here, she loathes everything about my lifestyle and my career choice. She wishes I was doing something useful.”

  Julian shook his head. “That’s tough.” He considered it for a moment. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought...”

  “What do you mean?” I took a big bite of pasta from my fork.

  He looked at me as if he was contemplating whether to share more. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, we were interrupted.

  “Hey! Lola-pop!”

  Startled, I almost fell from my chair when I saw Noah walking up to our table.

  I blinked at him a few times as he appeared beside us. Then, as
if on autopilot, I stood and greeted him with a quick embrace.

  “Hey, Noah. What are you doing here?”

  “Just catching a bite with Nina.”

  Nina? I’d been so pre-occupied with the surprise of seeing Noah that I hadn’t even noticed the girl he was holding hands with. She had a short black pixie cut and an attractive, heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes were clear and bright, her lips plump and pink.

  “Lola! I’ve heard so much about you!” She lunged at me with a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

  I barely had time to react. “Nice to meet you.” I got out between kisses.

  Noah’s eyes darted to the table, and he furrowed his brow when he saw who I was sitting with.

  Without hesitation, Julian stood and held out a hand to Noah. “Julian Lewin. And you are?”

  Noah took his hand. “Noah. I’m Lola’s friend.”

  Julian’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Of course. The famous Noah. Actually, I think this is the second time I’ve run into you if I’m not mistaken? You were at my party the other night when Lola returned my wallet.”

  Noah nodded, still looking a little surprised to see him. “Exactly.” He turned back to me, awkwardly. “So, what are you two doing here?”

  I knew what he was thinking. He was wondering what the hell I was doing with Julian. As far as he knew, he was just some random guy who we’d met that one time.

  I froze. Was my cover blown? I couldn’t stand the thought of Noah knowing about my new profession. But I didn’t want to lie to him outright.

  “We’re just taking a quick business lunch, that’s all.” Julian smiled casually.

  Noah scanned me, taking in my business attire. “Oh, right! For your new job?”

  Julian flicked me an amused expression and answered for me. “Yes. Lola’s my... assistant. She just got done helping me with an open house, actually.”

  “Oh, really?” Noah couldn’t have looked more surprised.

  Julian smirked at me, almost as if he was daring me to go along with his story.

  And without thinking. I did.

  “Yes… I work for Julian.” I stuttered the words.