Worth the Risk: (A Contemporary Bad Boy Romance)

by Weston Parker

  Alana told the voice that she would be in soon. Then she smiled at Alex again. "Right, wouldn't do to be late. When will the photographers arrive?"

  "Photographers?"

  Alana nodded. "Yes. You did hire photographers, didn't you?"

  Alex shook his head. Why would he?

  Alana's mouth made a moue of disappointment. "Good thing I told Michael to come, then. He'll take some shots. We'll just have to pray they come out."

  She was already walking away from him, heading back into her stylist to finish her dressing rituals. Alex ignored the flash of coldness her easy dismissal prompted and headed to his own room to get ready.

  He'd greeted his guests for over an hour. Inch by inch, he'd been working his way toward the door hiding the service stairs that led down to the kitchen. Alex had watched as servers popped in and out of that door, carrying trays of delicious-smelling delicacies out to the party. Each minute felt like an hour, each greeting forgotten immediately after the shaken hand, as he made slow progress toward his goal. The party had already begun, but if he could get to Lila soon, he could still prevent--

  "Alex, darling, have you met Jean Coorlan? He's that new designer I've been telling you about." Alana's cold hand gripped his shoulder as she introduced him to a short, rail-thin man in an outrageously yellow suit.

  "My pleasure," he said distractedly. He was right next to the door. If he could shake Alana and her friend now, he could--

  "Oh, and this is Colleen McFitz. She worked with me on that perfume campaign. And over there, that's Jimmy Hayden. Oh, Jimmy!"

  Alana glued herself to his side, introducing him to person after person, drawing him away from the kitchen door and back to the center of the party. Alex smiled politely, but inside he was worried. If he didn't make it to Lila before--

  Too late.

  He saw the servers start carrying trays of champagne flutes out from the kitchen. His efficient assistant drew up beside him, taking two flutes off a tray and passing one to him, the other to Alana. She took her pen and began tapping on the side of another flute she'd picked up, the gentle ting causing the room around them to go silent.

  The servers were circulating, ensuring each guest was given a flute full of the golden liquid. Alex sighed. There was no help for it. Time to take the plunge.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, then the words froze in his throat. Lila was there, holding a tray and passing around champagne with the other servers. If she'd stayed in the kitchen, maybe she would have missed his announcement. But there was no way she'd miss it now.

  Alex felt Alana elbow him in the ribs and took a deep breath. He had no choice. "Thank you all for coming here tonight. I'm sure you've all guessed that I've invited you here to celebrate a special occasion."

  He saw a couple nods and knowing glances. His gaze shot to Lila's face, even though he tried hard not to look at her. Her expression was blank, a polite smile on her face. Shit, this was even worse than he thought.

  The words wouldn't come. He stared at Lila, at her bright hazel eyes, and remembered them glazed in passion. How could he fill them with hurt? He stood there, silent, feeling a fool.

  Alana coughed politely to attract his attention but still he balked. He couldn't.

  "What Drake's trying to say is, we're getting married!"

  Alana's words galvanized the crowd. Applause rose, and congratulations. Alana extended her long arm to the crowd, wiggling her fingers to make her diamond ring sparkle in the light.

  The roar of the crowd faded away, and Alex felt for a second as if his guests were gone. As if the room was empty except for him and the woman he'd wronged.

  Lila stared at him, her mouth open, her eyes filling with tears.

  Alex flinched.

  Then Alana was throwing her arms around him, pressing kisses to his cheek. When he could finally pull himself away from her to look for Lila, she was gone.

  * * *

  The sink was full of dishes. The servers were helping her keep on top of the flow of dirty plates and glasses, but she insisted on doing the bulk of the work herself. It kept her mind off the betrayal that had just blindsided her.

  At Alana's words, the tray had almost slipped from her hands and she'd barely caught it, setting it down hard on the nearest table, causing the champagne flutes to come together in a melodic tinkle that thankfully hadn't resulted in a spill. Lila had barreled down the hallway, her shoulder pressed against the antique wallpaper, only straightening herself to avoid the paintings framed at clockwork intervals. Mainly portraits, but a few landscapes. All wildly expensive.

  Stumbling into the bathroom at last, she'd locked the door behind her and turned around, her breath leaving her body in a whoosh. The lavish surroundings held her still in awe for a moment, slowing down the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

  The walls glowed golden, the swirls raising slightly off the slick surface of the period-appropriate wallpaper. The gold was accented by white marble floors and countertops, veins of light grey weaving through stone that reminded Lila of frothy cream. The gold and white were married to a rich green the color of olives. Everything was bathed in the faux gas glow of a elaborate fixture hanging overhead.

  Lila collapsed onto what looked like a giant green and gold pincushion, the only piece of furniture in the hallway bathroom. Even the toilet rated its own room, hidden away behind doors hung with antique mirrors. Tall mirrors adorned most of the walls and the door she'd come through.

  Lila sat and stared at herself. Her cheeks were flushed, a bright red against the white of her uniform top. Her eyes were too wide, and she wondered if she could see the slight tick of the muscle under her left eyebrow. It often started jumping when she was nervous or surprised. Her eyebrow looked still in the mirror, despite her otherwise shocked expression.

  What kind of a jerk makes moves on the woman hired to cater his engagement party? Apparently a tall, dark, and dangerous jerk. Emphasis on dangerous. She'd opened herself up to a guy's advances and once again, all she had to show for it was humiliation.

  She'd seen the willowy model on his arm, the prettily poised princess of perfection. It had just highlighted for Lila what a dream world she'd been living in. Guys like Alexander Drake didn't end up with girls like Lila. They married supermodels. But evidently they didn't mind slumming it with fat chicks.

  Running her wrists under the cool water flowing from a faucet shaped like a golden swan had finally allowed her to calm herself enough to make a discrete exit from the bathroom and return to the kitchen. Where she'd stayed put, putting all of her focus on her job and thinking very hard about not thinking about anything else. The servers had scurried in and out, leaving with full trays and returning with empty ones, and Lila kept everything running smoothly. Everything but herself. She felt like a tempest inside, but she refused to let anything show.

  Lila dumped another stack of plates into the hot water and sighed when one cracked. Perfect. That's what this evening was supposed to be. Instead it was perfectly shitty.

  "I wanna talk to you."

  The familiar voice came from behind her and she jumped, not having heard him approach.

  "I'm busy," she said, not turning around.

  "Take a break."

  "No."

  Strong hands were on her shoulders, pulling her away from the sink and over to an uninhabited region of the kitchen.

  Lila eyed the servers over Alex's shoulder, but they were ignoring them.

  "Look at me," he demanded, but Lila shook her head, crossing her hands over her chest and staring down at the floor.

  His hand on her chin pushed her face up to meet his gaze. His steel gray eyes were cloudy, their depths dark with emotion.

  Lila felt her eyes start filling with tears and bit her lip in the hopes of stopping them from falling.

  "I'm sorry." His voice was soft, chastened. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But once I saw you, I couldn't help myself."

  "Sure," Lila bit out, "I understand. A q
uick fling before settling down to married life. Who could blame you?"

  "It wasn't like that." The fingers on her shoulders tightened, for a moment painfully, until she winced and he released her. "You know it wasn't like that."

  "Then what was it like?" She didn't want to torture herself, but she needed to hear his answer.

  Alex let out a breath and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I never intended--"

  "Alex!" The shrill voice rose over the clatter of the kitchen and sent an unpleasant chill down Lila's spine. The soon-to-be Mrs. Drake was picking her way through the mess, heading toward them.

  Lila hurriedly wiped her hands across her eyes, trying to blank out her face. Her efforts weren't enough, it seemed, as Alana stared at her with a puzzled look. "What's going on here, Alex?"

  "Just talking to the caterer," he said, and Lila felt an icy wind blow through her chest. Can't forget, I'm the hired help, she reminded herself bitterly.

  "What did you say to upset her? She's almost crying."

  Lila stepped back. "I'm fine," she said, trying on a smile that must have failed as miserably as her attempt to hide her tears.

  "What's going on?" Alana's face became hard. Her words let them know her suspicions were alerted.

  "Nothing," Alex said, putting an arm around the model's waist and turning her away. "Don't worry about it. Why don't you head back to the party? I'll be there shortly."

  "Everyone's left," she told him, looking back to burn Lila with a hot stare. "I wanted to talk to you about how we're going to release the photos from tonight."

  "Sure. I'll be in directly," he said, pushing her toward the door.

  "I'll wait." She crossed her arms and dug in her heels, staring back in Lila's direction.

  Alex sighed and turned away from his fiancée. Lila returned to the sink, turning the hot water up to scalding to draw her attention away from the situation.

  Alex reached her side. "I'm sorry," he said, for her ears only.

  "No problem, Mr. Drake." She wouldn't let him see how badly he'd hurt her. Not now, not in front of his fiancée.

  "I told you to call me Alex," he growled, and her features tightened, prompting him to swear quietly. "This isn't over."

  "I'm afraid it is. You'll receive my bill soon."

  "Lila--"

  "Alex!" This from Alana. It was obvious his fiancée wasn't used to waiting. Alex turned back to her and together they left the kitchen without a backwards glance. It wasn't until she heard the door swing shut that Lila finally let out the breath she was holding and collapsed against the sink.

  * * *

  Alex Drake stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, watching as the clouds moved into the city. Autumn was on its way, and it looked like the rain the summer sun managed to chase away for a few months was back. Lingering tendrils of fog fingered their way through the building tops. The gloominess fit his mood perfectly.

  It had been several days since his engagement party, and he'd not heard anything from Lila. No invoice had shown up on his desk, no message on his phone. He'd considered calling her, had considered confronting her at her place, but had done neither. He'd gone as far as to drive over to her house, but hadn't been able to get out of the car. Instead he'd driven home where he'd sat in his big, empty mansion and remembered the feeling of her in his arms.

  He'd been torturing himself with the memory for days. When he should be planning his wedding with his gorgeous fiancée, he'd been ruminating over his epic fuck-up with the caterer.

  The look of betrayal in her eyes when she'd learned the truth had hit him right in the chest where it squeezed painfully. The pain hadn't lessened in the past few days; if anything, it had grown stronger. He was such a fucking asshole.

  Again he tried to banish her from his thoughts. Best to be proactive about the situation. If she wouldn't contact him, he'd reach out to her. Alex returned to his desk and pushed the button to ask his assistant to enter.

  Helen Douglas entered, her pen and pad ready.

  "I want you to send a check to Lila Johnstone. For the catering."

  "Sure," Mrs. Douglas said, making a note. "The amount?"

  "Twenty thousand."

  His assistant's brows rose. "A bit steep, isn't it?"

  Alex frowned. "It's worth it. She did a fantastic job."

  Mrs. Douglas shook her head but gave him a smile. "I won't disagree. Those scallops were to die for."

  "Send a courier over with a check this afternoon."

  "Of course." Helen departed, and Alex seated himself before his computer, forcing himself to look over the proposal he'd been drafting. But it was Lila's face that he saw when he closed his eyes later, leaning back in his chair to and rubbing his face with both hands.

  Lila's hurt face, her bright hazel eyes brimming with tears.

  With a curse he slammed shut the lid on his laptop and stood to go.

  * * *

  The knock on the door startled Lila. She'd been sitting at the table in her kitchen, paging through culinary magazines, when she heard the noise and stood up. She wasn't properly attired to receive guests, she realized as she shuffled to her door in her ratty old bathrobe and slippers. But then, she hadn't expected any.

  Still, she was in business now and had to be ready for the unexpected. That meant putting on decent clothing. But this week she'd barely been able to drag her ass out of bed, let alone put on anything approaching professional. So she opened her door in her bathrobe and dared the world to correct her.

  "Delivery for Lila Johnstone." A man in a khaki shorts and a neon jacket held out a cardboard envelope. "Please sign here."

  She scribbled over the electronic signature line with the attached stylus then took the envelope from the delivery man's hand. "Thank you."

  He gave a nod, already hurrying down her steps to grab his bike and head to the next delivery. Lila went back inside, pulling open the envelope to see what was inside.

  A small piece of paper was the envelope's only inhabitant. She pulled it out. Not a piece of paper. A check. A check for an obscene amount.

  Lila slid into her chair and set the check on the table in front of her. Twenty thousand dollars from Alexander Drake.

  She'd said she would send him a bill, but she hadn't yet. She just hadn't been able to bring herself to write up the invoice. So it seems the bastard had taken matters into his own hands. But twenty thousand dollars? She'd considered charging a quarter of that out of spite, but would have taken into account the $2500 he'd already given her. This check was way too much.

  What did it mean? Was he trying to apologize, or did he figure that money gave him the right to do what he wanted? To take liberties with the hired help? To not care about their feelings?

  Asshole!

  Lila was struck by a flash of inspiration. She picked up the check, then tore it in half. Then half again. Then again, until the little pieces of paper fluttered down into a pile before her. She'd already paid the servers out of her own money, and the deposits he'd given her had covered the food and wine with a little bit left over for her time. She didn't need his pity paycheck.

  Lila squared her shoulders and lifted up her head. No more time to feel sorry for herself. She had a business to build, and she wasn't getting anywhere in her slippers and robe. With a deep breath she forced herself up the stairs and into the shower. It was time to take her catering to the next level. As long as that next level didn't cost too much...

  Chapter Eight

  It was late, and Lila was bone tired. She was beginning to wish she'd taken some marketing classes instead of focusing solely on the food. Landing clients wasn't easy, but it sure was exhausting.

  She'd spent the week working on getting the word out about her business. She'd designed a simple logo, branding herself the Gourmet on the Go, and having business cards printed up with her information. Lila had commissioned a small sign for her house, and had even considered having a sign made for her car, but figured it wouldn't improve her
image to have Gourmet to Go plastered all over her rusty old Ford Escort.

  She'd paid a local freelancer to design a simple website for her in order to increase her 'presence.' Then she'd started scouring the papers for any chance to network, to get her name out without paying for expensive advertising. She'd put up some flyers in a few places around town, hoping to catch attention, but so far her phone hadn't rung once.

  Damn that Alex Drake! She'd had it all planned, had hoped that he'd refer her to his friends, and that she'd get a word-of-mouth campaign rolling with little effort. What a fool she'd been. Instead he'd gotten her with little effort, and she was still reeling from the effects of his touch.

  It hurt, the realization that he'd used her, that he'd never been serious about her. If she was honest with herself, she knew that deep down she'd expected it throughout his seduction. Why would a good-looking, rich, powerful man like that want her? Duh, he didn't. But a man didn't turn down what was thrown in his face, so he'd taken what she offered. Perhaps it would have been impolite not to.

  Lila groaned, scrubbing tired hands across her face. She needed a shower, not to keep rehashing the same argument with herself. But the thought that he was just being polite, just sleeping with the help because maybe her ego needed a boost, that thought hurt the worst. So she drove it out, letting it melt away under the hot spray of the shower.

  It wasn't until she was drying off that she heard the doorbell. Shit! Lila threw on her robe and raced down the stairs, her bare feet leaving wet footprints on the hardwood floors. The doorbell had stopped its buzzing. She lunged for the door and swung it open, hoping she hadn't missed whomever was calling.

  There he stood, Alexander Drake, still tall, dark, and dangerous in a lightweight gray trench and dark slacks.

  Her mouth dropped open at the sight of him, but she recovered quickly. Pulling the robe closed tight across her chest, she eyed him. "What are you doing here?"