The crew heads out, and Cole and I finish up and store our tools for the night. The sun is just starting to go down, but we decide to call it and walk hand in hand to pick up some takeout. I love when he cooks for me and never just assumes I’ll be doing the cooking, but we are both pretty tired from the heavy lifting we did all day.
When we make our way out of the restaurant, we are suddenly blinded by flashing lights. People all around us are yelling my name.
“Lyla, is it true your business partner ran your restaurant into the ground?”
One paparazzo hits me in the chin, shoving his phone in my face. I hear Cole yelling profanities, and more questions are yelled all at the same time. I feel like I’ve been shoved into a mosh pit. Everyone is pushing into me, and I lose my balance until someone grabs my arms and yanks me up. He’s still pulling me through the crowd, but I know it’s not Cole, so I twist until I’m out of his hold. He doesn’t turn around. Actually, he starts walking faster as the paparazzi keeps up the never-ending questions of my failed career. How did they find me, and why do they care at this point?
“I am no longer in the cooking industry. Now, if you all would please leave me be.”
I step out to the curb and spot Cole’s truck but no Cole. Suddenly the people surrounding me part as they’re shoved by my man bulldozing his way through them. He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder and even though I was miserable a second ago I can’t help the giddy yelp I let out. He unlocks his side of the truck and tosses me in. I slide over and watch all the phones and cameras in shock as they are all pressed against his window. He turns the truck on and revs the engine just a bit until they finally step back.
We take off toward home, and I look back to see if I can spot the guy in the red shirt that was pulling me. I didn’t see his face but something about him seemed familiar.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Cole wraps his meaty bicep around my back and my waist, and I scoot closer and straighten out.
“It’s not your fault, Cole. If anything, I’m sorry. I don’t know how they found me or why they think I’m news anymore.”
“I hate to say it, but the crypt keeper knows you’re at that warehouse and could have told them.”
This is all very true, and my mind goes back to the man in the red t-shirt again. I’m lucky I got away and didn’t just go with him to get out of the chaos. Was that his plan? Was that all a setup?
We get back to the apartment with nothing to eat so we pull together a couple grilled cheese sandwiches and salads. After our shower Cole grabs my chin with deep furrowed brows.
“What?” I ask, unsure what could be wrong all of a sudden.
He spins me to look in the mirror and sure enough a large bruise is forming on my chin. Probably from that first hit I took. I will probably have a few more come tomorrow, but I’ll keep this to myself along with my encounter. I turn back to my beautiful man and shrug as I put my arms around his neck.
“I’m okay, baby. Let’s just relax and fall into our bubble for the night.” His face doesn’t get any happier, but he leans down and brushes his lips against mine. “I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.”
“I know. I trust you and know I’m safe with you, Cole. Please don’t worry yourself sick. Your guy will get the right information to the police and everything will blow over. I’m sure whatever gossip the paparazzi comes up with over tonight will be enough to let me fade off into obscurity never to be famous again.”
The idea makes me smile, and I press my lips to his. He deepens the kiss and sweeps me away. We don’t even make it out of the bathroom.
I’m totally spent by the time he’s done with me and forget everything that happened. He picks me up off the countertop and puts me in bed. He brushes the hair from my face, leaning over me and telling me all about how amazing he thinks I am. I go into detail about his awesomeness and even confess my fantasies I’ve had while watching him at work. Suddenly we’re in this weird competition on sexy thoughts and laughing until finally we roll into a spoon and fall asleep.
24
Cole
Driving up to the retail warehouse, I shift into park and watch Lyla grab my coffee with hers and climb down from my jacked-up Nissan Titan. When I get down and around the truck, I stop dead in my tracks next to her, our coffee and cups spilled at her feet.
The outside wall to the shop has the words “Time’s up” spray painted in red and the two large newly painted white entrance doors are nothing but shards and splinters on the ground. We cautiously step into the warehouse where everything seems to be trashed. By the looks of things whoever was here took all my heavy-duty tools and slammed them into everything we were working on or had finished. Everywhere we look is rubble or pieces of wood. All our hard work is destroyed, and by the look on my girl’s face, she knows exactly who did it and why. Tears fill her eyes as she circles the open space.
“Holy shit. Why would he do this, Cole? Why not just shoot me while leaving, or run my car off the road, or better yet why the fuck can’t he just find Howard and leave me alone?”
She’s shaking at this point, and I pull her into my arms. Before I can say anything reassuring, I hear voices that can only belong to Sam and Elliott. I turn us toward the door, but she quickly pushes out of my arms and wipes her eyes, putting on the fake brave and confident persona she’s so good at.
“Hey, guys, I didn’t expect you. It seems someone has vandalized the shop, but I assure you we can get everything back on track.”
Even her beautiful beaming smile can’t help the frowns from deepening on the owners’ faces.
“Lyla, we’ve been here for hours, honey, and the police have come and gone. We were alerted late last night by our security system that there was a break-in. Unfortunately, there will be an investigation because of the writing on the wall outside. This is going to set us back, dear. I’m afraid we have to let you go. At least until the case is closed and we’re allowed to be on the property again. As it is, we have to ask you to leave. We only came back to board up the door.”
“Oh my gosh, you guys, I’m so sorry.”
I stop her by putting my arm around her shoulders before she says anymore. I don’t want to get the police involved now that I’ve hired Roger. If I get my way, these crooks won’t walk again, let alone serve time for mere vandalism. They will be going to prison or the grave after a thorough and well-deserved beating.
“Sam, Elliott, we are both so sorry to see this travesty. Please let us help board up the doors, and did they reset the security cameras for you? Did they have any leads on who could have done this?”
I’m fishing but they don’t know that. Lyla does and she looks up at me with a menacing expression and a million questions in her eyes. I just kiss her forehead as our soon-to-be former clients thank us and head for the door.
“I’m afraid the police were more than useless, but the security system caught the man on camera. The company said they would turn it in to the police and couldn’t tell us anymore.”
Interesting. I board the door and Lyla nails it. We make sure both are secure and say our goodbyes. I give Elliott my card in case they need anything. Even if it’s not work-related, I assure them we would appreciate them letting us know what they hear from the police. They promised we would be the first to know and apologized to Lyla.
They saw her passion for this project and see how hurt she is seeing it destroyed. She’s lost so much in such a little time, but she’s been holding it together and thriving on this project.
I’m lost in thought and don’t know what to say on the drive home. She’s quiet too, and I can see the guilt she feels from here. I reach for my phone and set up speech text so she can hear every word to Roger. I get his reply as I’m pulling into the garage.
Roger: I’m on it. I’ll have the video footage by tonight. Should also let you know I found Howard’s girlfriend. Address is Chicago, on my way there now.
I read it to her, and we head upstairs. She
goes straight to our room, but I head to my office. I investigate the security system company a bit online and after a few calls I’m put in touch with sales who is dumb enough to brag to me which employee sent the videos from the warehouse to the police and the name of the officers on the case. I send it all to Roger and lean backm taking a deep breath.
I’m lost as to how I can make Lyla feel better right now. This just sucks, and nothing I say will make it better. I send a message to Marcus, hoping he’ll answer but don’t hold my breath. I order lunch from her favorite burger shack and serve it to her in bed. I may not know what to say, but I can show her I am still here for her. It’s a comfortable silence as we eat, and I think it’s the right move when she gives me a small smile and thanks. I take everything to the kitchen and go back to my office. I check in with my crews around town and check my email.
Moretti International Trading is looking for a quote on not one but three locations for remodel or demo rebuilds. San Diego is a big city full of everyone wanting to do business, but three buildings is still a lot. I forward the email to Jack and ask what dates and locations we have available. This project is huge and might be just the thing Lyla needs to get out there and get busy again. I spend the next four hours researching locations and talking back and forth with a crew that’s available. Finally, I send a quote to the client and cross my fingers that they take it.
The days gone before I know it and I am surprised to find Lyla in the kitchen making dinner. She’s listening to AFI’s “Miss Murder” when I seat myself at the island and start singing along with her. She turns, surprised, but genuinely smiles at me, then grabs two wine glasses but before she pours, she laughs and grabs the whiskey instead. Most nights we don’t drink but more often than not go for red wine. Every time we have whiskey, it has meaning behind it. A reminder of our beginning and how far we’ve come together through everything and everyone against us.
We continue to sing the next song together, Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars,” as she plates a mouthwatering pork chop, green beans, and creamy mac and cheese. Talk about amazing comfort food; this would blow anything my grandma ever made out of the water.
“I saw Snow Patrol in concert once,” I say tiptoeing on something gentle that has nothing to do with today.
“Oh yeah? I’m assuming a girlfriend dragged you out to see them.”
“No, my sister actually.” I laugh, happy she’s going with it.
“Ah, I knew it. I knew you weren’t the type to go sway to those emo beats,” she says with a wink as she comes to sit next to me with her plate. I grab her drink and set it by her plate next to me.
“What was your all-time favorite concert?” I ask as she digs into her first bite of pork chop, moaning around the fork. I follow her lead and my eyebrows hit my forehead.
“Wow,” I mumble around my bite.
I look to her in appreciation, and she smiles with a mouth full while she nods in agreement. We dig into dinner for a while before she answers.
“My favorite concert ever was probably Fall Out Boy, right before I moved away. Charlie, Marcus, and I road-tripped to Austin, Texas, and rented a super nice hotel room in downtown and partied before and after. It was absolutely awesome. Charlie had the biggest crush on Pete Wentz. Even though the man was married at the time and wouldn’t actually even see her. It didn’t really matter. She just went through this really traumatic thing with her family, so I surprised her with the trip. It helped but I’m still not sure she’s gotten over it, even after all these years.”
“Ouch. Must have been bad if it still hurts. Fall Out Boy would be the perfect amount of angst for something like that though. Glad you guys have those good memories.”
“It was definitely a trip of a lifetime. I don’t think I will ever forget it. Charlie, as you know, is really guarded and shy by nature, but she fucking let it all loose in Austin. It was incredible.”
“That’s awesome. I had a trip like that with a buddy back in college. We went on an epic mountain bike trip one summer in Arizona. Fucking hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Not only was it challenging to keep riding physically, but if we weren’t careful to stay hydrated, we would have died for sure.”
“Holy shit. Why would you do something like that?”
“It was a challenge, like climbing Mt. Everest, not everyone would or could do it, and we can say we did.”
“Okay. I get that. It’s a huge accomplishment. I would and could never do that, so kudos, babe. I’m proud of you.”
I see it. The pride in her eyes and it’s aimed at me. Feeling brave I decide to go for what I hope to be good news.
“Well, thank you. I really did it so years down the road I could impress you.” I grin, and she knocks her shoulder into me.
“I do have some good news to share about work.”
I fork the last of my mac and cheese, trying to buy myself some time and see her nod out of the corner of my eye.
“I received an email from a company wanting us to build or remodel three business locations here in the city. Jack and I worked out all the details today and sent the quote. If they like it, it’ll be a lot of profitable work for us.”
“Cool,” is all she says as she eats one last bite, popping up to take her plate to the sink. Okay, maybe it’s not exciting news, but so far this night hasn’t been a total disaster, so I won’t push it. We don’t even know if they’ll follow through.
We finish the night with an MMA match, cheering for Caleb who does a much better job of cheering her up. Fucker.
The next morning I’m happy to see an email from Moretti International Trading accepting my bid and officially hiring the company. They want to see the locations as soon as possible so I forward their email along with the site locations to Jack and Lyla. She’s still in the shower, but I know she’s safe here at home, so I head out to meet Jack. I send her a text right after the email and promise her I’ll be back for lunch and want her to take the day off if she wants.
25
Lyla
I soak in the shower, taking my time. It’s not as relaxing without Cole and his back rubs. I think I’m getting spoiled, but it’s the only good thing in my life right now. I keep my eyes closed tight and hold my head under the running water and wish it would wash away all the chaos.
I think back to my restaurant and how it felt to be arrested in front of all my employees. I remember what it felt like to be escorted to the airport with Marcus and none of my belongings after handing over the keys to my home. Then I think about Marcus and his face when he caught me and Cole in the kitchen. The betrayal written all over it after he’s done so much for me. The fact that he won’t speak to me or let me in the studio to explain to him how being with Cole is the only happy thing in my life at the moment. I wouldn’t stress him with the Howard drama.
Then I remember all that. The phone calls and text messages, the letter addressed to the warehouse that should have clued me in to not being safe there. With Cole, an army of gangsters could have knocked down the door, and my smart ass would have told them to bring it on. Then I remember the paparazzi and how they separated us and the douche bag almost pulling me away from him completely. I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle any of this without him.
The disaster that’s left of the retail warehouse makes me want to cry. I finally found something I could bury all my time and energy in and now it’s all gone. Ripped away so fast I almost got whiplash.
I turn the shower off, then get dressed in jeans and a button-up blue dress shirt, not sure what I’m doing today besides following Cole around. Surely, he won’t want to work from home again today. I head downstairs only to find myself alone. I check my phone for messages and spot a new email notification from him. It’s three locations from the new client. They must have signed the contract. I can’t seem to find any enthusiasm for this project, but I grab my messenger bag filled with my notebooks and iPad and head to the first address in an Uber.
He must want me to scout
it out first because when I arrive, I’m the only one on-site. It’s just an old beat-down, never-finished building, rusty and gutted. Looks like someone started this one once upon a time and probably ran out of capital before they could finish. Not uncommon in this city and a great find for Cole. I pay my driver and sit on some grass, giving me a great overall view of the building. I reread the email and think about sending Cole a flirty message but talk myself out of it, deciding that I’ll get this done and let him work. It’s bad enough he stayed home yesterday for me.
I spend hours sketching and typing up a few ideas. It’s late afternoon and I think I’ve done all I can do here. I stand and brush off my jeans and put all my things away when I notice a black SUV pull into the property. This must be the new client. I straighten up my shirt the best I can after hours of sitting bent at the waist and walk over to introduce myself.
The passenger side door opens and an older man, maybe in his forties, with dark hair and a beard comes around. I stretch my hand out to greet him, but he opens the back door and when he takes my hand, he pulls hard and shoves me into the back, slamming the door behind me. Panicking, I turn to open it, but it’s locked and won’t budge. I’m alone back here, and there is blacked-out plexiglass between the front and back seat. I beat on it with all my strength, screaming and demanding they let me out, but nothing happens.
I feel the car start to move and fumble to find my phone to call Cole, 911, anyone and everyone. I find it and press 2 and forget it’s Marcus still and not Cole but leave an erratic message and pray he listens to it. My phone soon cuts off and is completely dead even though it was fully charged this morning.
I can’t remember if I pushed send on the email I was working on to Jack and Cole or not, and I start finding it hard to breathe.
Whiskey and Honey: Can a forbidden fling be real love? (The Empire Records Series Book 1) Page 12