Worth the Risk: (A Contemporary Bad Boy Romance)

by Weston Parker

  "What I was?" What the hell was he talking about?

  "You know." His eyes traveled down her body, zeroing in on her nether region.

  Lila blushed. He couldn't mean...?

  "You were the best sex I ever had. I mean that. No woman since has matched you. And I threw it away because of some high school peer pressure bullshit. I promised myself that if I ever saw you again, I wouldn't make the same mistake again."

  Lila was reeling. From nightmare to fondest wish, all in the space of a few seconds. It was unbelievable.

  "So what do you say?" Damien gave her his game-winning smile. A smile that would have melted her 18 year old heart. Now it just gave her the creeps.

  "No thanks."

  His hand was back on her shoulder, but she pulled out of his grip and took a step backwards.

  "Lila, think it over. You remember how good it was. It could be that good again."

  That good? There was no denying that the sex was good, but that had been all it was. Sex. No intimacy. No friendship. Nothing even close to a relationship. And sex wasn't enough to lure her in now. Not with Damien George. Nor with Alex Drake.

  "I've had a decade to think it over. I'm not interested." She gave him a smile. "It was nice to see you again." Then she made a break for the nearby lady's room.

  Lila leaned against the sink counter, catching her breath. Fuck, did that just happen? Two women came in, chatting amiably, and Lila dodged into a stall, locking the door and leaning back against it. How long would it take before her heart would stop beating so hard long enough for her to escape this networking nightmare?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alex wanted to growl at the people who stopped him as he tried to make his way toward Lila. He'd seen a strange light in her eyes, had caught the moment she decided to flee. And he needed to catch her before she could escape.

  He nodded his head at an associate who was busy pitching him a chain of pet spas. There was plenty of money to be made in pampering pooches, but he wasn't interested. The only thing he was looking for was a pair of hazel eyes and some killer curves.

  The sight of a man putting his hand on Lila's arm made his jaw clench. Who was that? And what could they be talking about? The look on Lila's face was telling -- a mixture of shock, recognition, and was that shame? Who the fuck is that guy?

  Alex watched, entranced, completely ignoring the conversation around him. He recognized a burst of anger from her. Then a look of disbelief. Finally she pulled away from the man and practically ran to the bathroom. The asshole looked after her with an expression of chagrin, then made his way over to the bar.

  Making his excuses, Alex followed, pulling up next to the blond man who'd talked to Lila. The gentleman was busy draining a glass of scotch, then signaling the bartender for another.

  "Tough night?" Alex drawled, giving the douche bag an even smile.

  "You could say that," the man replied, then did a double-take when he recognized who he was talking with. "You're Alexander Drake."

  "I am." Alex held out his hand. "And you are?"

  "Damien George. CPA. I've got a card here somewhere." The blond man was digging in his suit jacket, pulling out a plain white card. Alex stuffed it in his pocket and smiled.

  "What's got you down, partner?" Maybe the southern drawl was good for one thing, if it got Damien George to explain how he knew Lila.

  Damien exhaled heavily and took another sip of scotch. "What else? A woman."

  "Oh yeah?" Alex acted casual. Underneath the facade, his insides were a seething mass.

  "Yeah. I ran into someone I knew in high school. Good looking girl, even though she’s fat."

  Alex gritted his teeth, wanting to smash the glass Damien was lifting to his mouth into his stupid face.

  "I took her cherry. Now I want back in."

  Before he crushed his own glass in his fist, Alex was forced to set it down. He couldn't look at the man anymore so he studied his glass as Damien's words washed over him.

  "She was hot. Real hot. And great at sucking dick. But the best thing, let me tell you," Damien leaned in but didn't bother to lower his voice. "She's a squirter."

  Alex growled and the world went black. Then he was punching Damien, pushing him down to the floor and ramming his fist into the blond man's smarmy face.

  He could hear the crowd around him gasp as one, could hear the gurgling breathing of the man below him. And then he heard her shout.

  "Alex!"

  * * *

  Lila cracked open the restroom door, making sure the coast was clear. When she realized that neither Damien nor Alex was waiting to ambush her, she made her way toward the exit. And then she heard the commotion at the bar.

  A group of people were circled around two men.

  One dark-haired.

  One blond.

  Oh fuck!

  Alex Drake was beating the shit out of Damien George. In the middle of the annual Northwest Business Alliance networking event.

  "Alex!" She rushed toward him, grabbing his arm and using all of her strength to pull him away.

  "You idiot! What are you doing?" Lila pulled him toward the door, tugging him outside before security could converge.

  "He was talking about you, cupcake! He's a filthy pig that deserves an ass kicking!"

  Lila's jaw dropped. Alex finally pulled his gaze away from the door and stared down at her, his gray eyes dark with anger.

  He grabbed her arms, his fingers digging into her. "Who is he to you?"

  Lila tried to back off, pushing his arms off of her and starting to walk away from the hotel. "I can't believe this is happening," she muttered to no one in particular.

  Alex was at her side in a second. "You knew him in high school?"

  Why wouldn't he let the matter drop? "Forget it, Drake. We're not opening up that can of worms."

  "I told you to call me Alex!" he growled, his face a mask of rage. "What is he to you, Lila?"

  "He's nothing!" She whirled to face him, pressing her index finger into his chest. "He's another jerk who wants to use me for sex and offers nothing more of himself. Sound familiar?"

  Alex grimaced. "That motherfucker!"

  "Just shut up!" This entire evening was ridiculous. "I'm not doing this anymore. I can't." She looked him in his eyes, ignored the emotion she saw there. "It's over, Drake. I can't see you anymore. I can't cater your wedding." But he had to know that already. Alana had fired her, after all.

  "You can't, or you won't?" His eyes were fierce, cold. Chill-inducing.

  "I can't and I won't."

  "Is it because of him?"

  Lila rolled her eyes. "No, it's because of you. Because of you and me. We don't work. And we can't work together."

  "You're wrong, cupcake" he said, pulling her into his arms.

  "Don't call me that!" His nickname for her always made her flesh tingle, but tonight it made her bristle with anger. "And I'm not wrong," she retorted, struggling out of his grip. "We can't see each other again. And that means no sneaky invitations to public events either. It's over between us. Finished."

  "Don't say that." His voice was low, his words urgent.

  "I have to." She raised a shaky hand to his face and patted him gently on the cheek. "Alex, you're getting married. You shouldn't even be here, doing this with me right now. Go home to your fiancée."

  His expression hardened, his face becoming marble. "She isn't you."

  "That's right," Lila said, lifting her chin while fighting back tears. "But she's going to be your wife."

  She turned on her heel and walked away into the soft mist of the autumn evening.

  * * *

  Alex slammed the door behind him. The sound echoed down the hallway, prompting an unexpected response. "Alex, is that you?"

  He trudged down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the Blue Parlor. Alana had arrayed herself on the chaise and was paging through Us Weekly. A few days ago he'd texted her, desperate for company. Now she was the last person he wanted to see.


  Alex entered the room and made for the bar. He poured himself a glass of single-batch, barrel-aged Kentucky bourbon and quickly drained it. He poured another, then settled into an arm chair to nurse it.

  After a few moments of silence, Alana spoke. "Where were you tonight?"

  "Networking event."

  She said nothing, turned the page of her magazine. "You sure?" she said after another minute of silence. "You weren't in a boxing ring?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  Alana pulled out her phone, scrolling through a feed. "'Irate millionaire punches out the competition.' 'Drake uses his muscles to the close the deal.' Oh, and this one I rather like. 'Drunken Drake trades fists with CPA over barfly.'"

  Alex groaned, setting down his drink to walk to the chaise and grab her phone. He found a photograph of Lila pulling him away from the prone blond man, an angry grimace on his own face. He cursed and threw the phone back at Alana.

  He'd just spent hours "convincing" Damien George to keep his mouth shut. And George had just "convinced" him to hire his firm for "all your accounting needs."

  He'd also warned the asshole to stay away from Lila. In fact, the actual words he said could have gotten him sued. But the threats hadn't felt like enough. Watching the man shove tissue after tissue up his nose to staunch the bleeding hadn't filled him with the satisfaction he'd expected. Instead he'd just wanted to hit him again.

  And in spite of all that hard work, the media had still gotten a hold of the story. Already.

  "She just couldn't leave you alone, could she?" The venom in her voice made him turn back to face her. "I warned her to stay away."

  This was a surprising development. His eyes narrowed. "You talked to Lila."

  "I did. And she apparently didn't get the picture. I can't believe you were screwing around with the caterer. That's so low brow."

  "Get out." He turned his back on her, picked up his drink and tossed the rest of it back.

  "Alex, no need to overreact. If you're going to have an affair, at least pick someone remotely close to your level."

  "I said get out! I never want to see you again."

  He didn't. He couldn't marry this woman, this cold, selfish doll who took everything he gave her and gave back too little of herself. How could he spend the rest of his life without love? Without someone who at least cared about him?

  Alana stood, her gaze icy. "She told you about the video, didn't she?"

  What fucking video?

  He remained silent, waiting for her to dig her own grave.

  "She did, that fucking cunt."

  "Don't talk about her like that!" His voice was so loud, the chandelier overhead began to tremble.

  "Well you were fucking her like a prostitute on her own kitchen table!" Alana whipped out her phone, swiped across it, and then held the screen up to him.

  The video was low-quality but the action was not. He was plunging into Lila, having the most exquisite sexual encounter of his life.

  And this bitch had been filming it.

  He snatched the phone from her and threw it to the ground, stomping it to bits underneath his foot.

  "You bastard! You're paying for a new phone!"

  "You'll be lucky if I don't prosecute you for this. Get the fuck out, Alana. It's over."

  "Look, Alex," she said, her expression softening. "I don't care if you fuck other women. We can reach an arrangement. As long as you don't go getting into scenes like tonight--"

  "Forget it."

  Her face contorted in rage. "Fuck you, Alex Drake, you ignorant piece of trash. I'm going to spread that video all over the media."

  "The hell you will! My lawyers will have a field day crucifying you if you even try it. Now get out!"

  Alana smiled menacingly. "We'll see." Then she flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder, turned on her Jimmy Choo stilettos and marched out of the room.

  Alex collapsed into the arm chair, wondering when his life had turned to shit.

  * * *

  It was in the paper the following morning. Lila spotted it when she was walking past the stack while picking up groceries. "Drake in Fist Fight over Mystery Woman." It must have been a slow news day, or the editor had realized a fast way to make money. It wasn't the headline, but a side-column that started with a quick synopsis of their fucked-up evening.

  She turned the pages to find the continuation of the story and was confronted with a picture of Drake, glowering down at a cringing Damien, with Lila herself standing off the side, her mouth an "O" that would have been comical if it wasn't so damned sad.

  As Lila scanned the article, her phone rang. Her heart constricted in her chest as she picked it up and checked the number. The pressure released when she realized it wasn't Alex calling. The number was unknown. She let it go to voicemail.

  Well, at least I'm listed as a "mystery woman," she thought. They don't have my name. Neither were there many details about the victim. The paper only listed his name and occupation, but received no comment about what had started the fight.

  Lila wondered briefly if Drake had gotten to Damien before for he could talk to the papers. She wouldn't put it past him.

  Despite the absence of motive, she knew that enough damage had already been done. The bad publicity might affect Alex's business, even if her own was safe because of her mysterious identity. Lila took a deep breath. It could have been worse.

  As morning became afternoon, she discovered just how bad it could be.

  The calls started shortly after noon. Lila glanced at another unfamiliar number on her phone, once again letting it go to voicemail. Less than five minutes later, her phone rang again. Then five minutes after that.

  On the fourth call, Lila finally picked up. "Lila Johnstone."

  "Ms. Johnstone, how do you respond to allegations that you're having an affair with Alexander Drake?"

  "What?" It hadn't taken them long to dig up the mystery woman's identity, it seemed.

  "Alexander Drake is engaged to marry fashion model Alana Morgan. Can you confirm you're the other woman?"

  "No comment."

  Lila hung up the phone and tossed it away from her as if it were a venomous snake. That didn't silence the calls.

  How had they figured out it was her at the NWBA event? Had Damien told them? Or Alex?

  Her phone didn't stop ringing, and Lila at last resorted to that all-hallowed bastion of information, the internet.

  It only took the search term "Alexander Drake" to pull up the story that had reporters salivating into her voicemail. Lila immediately felt sick to her stomach.

  It didn't seem to be on any of the major news outlets yet, but more than a dozen gossip blogs had already run the picture. And no, it wasn't the one of Alex punching out Damien's lights. She only wished it was.

  It showed her, legs splayed, laid back on her kitchen table with Alex positioned between her knees. It was grainy and low-quality, but the text was quite clear about the identities of the participants in the picture.

  "Alex Drake new member of "Sex Tape" club," was the headline. The next line down immediately drew her attention. There was her full name, spelled out for the world to read. And right next to it, the words Gourmet on the Go.

  "Oh holy fuck." The words blurred on the screen. Her phone rang. She turned it off. Sitting there, staring forward, she compulsively clicked link after link.

  'Tales of the weird: The Businessman and the BBW'

  'For Love or Money? Or Food?: Millionaire leaves model fiancée for chubby chef'

  'Drake's caterer serves him up a helping of herself'

  When she got to 'Nine craziest things about the Drake Sex Scandal' she slammed the lid down on her laptop and rose.

  Eyes blinking back tears, she climbed the stairs to her small room. Throwing open the closet, she dug out a duffel bag and began tossing things inside. She moved over to her dresser, threw in some more clothing then headed to the bathroom.

  She didn't think, she just moved. S
he couldn't think, couldn't allow herself to realize just how fucked she was, or she'd melt into a puddle of sad and never move again.

  Lila caught sight of herself in the mirror as she collected her toiletries. Her makeup was smeared, her cheeks streaked with mascara-laced tears.

  You're such an idiot.

  She didn't bother cleaning herself up, just grabbed the rest of her junk and shoved it into the duffel.

  At the front door she took a last glance around her. This was her dream, and it was crumbling before her wet eyes. Gourmet on the Go had no chance of success now, since the press had branded her The Other Woman.

  Lila's breath huffed out of her at the irony of that title. As if she'd had a chance in a competition with supermodel Alana Morgan. Too bad it had taken a very public humiliation to point that out to her. Looks like you'll never learn, she told herself. She'd repeated her past mistake and this time the fallout was even worse than before. This time she wasn't sure if she could recover.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The drive to her mother's house was a blur, the rain spattering her windshield lowering her visibility just as much as the tears falling down her face.

  Stop blubbering, she commanded herself again and again, but it did little good. Her business was over before it had begun, her chance of becoming the premiere gourmet catering company in the big city wasted. All because she couldn't control herself around Tall, Dark, and Dangerous and his piercing gray eyes.

  Lila pulled her Ford Escort into the narrow driveway of her mother's house and stopped in front of the garage. She dutifully dug out her garage door key, then unlocked and jerked up the heavy door. She drove her car into the confines of the garage, closing the door behind her. The darkness of the garage mirrored the hopelessness in her soul.

  Hanging her heavy duffel off her shoulder, she made her way into the house. It felt empty inside, musty with the smell of disuse. Although she hadn't been gone long, the house seemed strange now, almost foreign.

  Much of the furniture remained, but her personal items had all been packed away and were still sitting in boxes in her rental in Portland. She opened the blinds covering the wide front window to let in the fading autumn light. Cracking a window, Lila breathed in the fresh air and tried to brush away her troubled thoughts. They refused to go.