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She made a startled noise. “Do you worry about killing the mood? Jesus. That’s what’s on your mind?”
“I’m curious,” he said with a deep chuckle. “You don’t seem worried.”
“We already discussed birth control.”
“It isn’t a hundred percent effective.”
She sighed. “I’d be worried if I thought of it, but I can’t. I just can’t. So I don’t. It would be devastating.”
“Would it?”
“To have the child of a man who bought me for a night? Yes.”
“Funny how much tighter the knots in your back just got.”
She couldn’t even picture Beau as a dad—terse, uptight, suit-wearing Beau, picking up his toddler daughter on his way out the door to work as Lola watched, her hip against the counter, coffee in one hand, clutching her robe closed with the other. All of them smiling.
Or maybe she could.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you make all your partners sign a pregnancy waiver?”
“No, and it’s not called a ‘pregnancy waiver.’”
“You should be careful who you sleep with, you know. A lot of women would see an opportunity there and take advantage.”
“I think you think I sleep around more than I do. And I use condoms always. It’s not like those encounters are…”
“Prearranged?”
“Precisely.”
There was certainly more to think about when you had money. Lola figured she might have to start looking over her shoulder as well. “Do you trust me?” she asked.
“I do, but I have to protect myself.”
“Do you really trust me, or are you just saying that?”
He kneaded her shoulder hard. “That’s a big one,” he said after a few seconds.
“Happens when you work on your feet.”
He kept working the knot. “Have you ever considered doing anything else?”
She didn’t mind the topic change. He didn’t have any reason to trust her, but she didn’t want to know how it’d feel to hear him say it. “Once I applied as an office manager for a place in Century City.”
“Did you get the job?” he asked.
“Yes. I turned it down. I couldn’t bring myself to wear a suit to work.”
“It’s hard to pretend to be something else day after day.”
“Most people just become what they’re pretending to be.”
“I suppose,” he said. “Is it still your dream to become an office manager or did the wardrobe kill it for you?”
Her laugh sounded as contented as she was. “I told you, I don’t dream. I didn’t grow up with choices. Just options. Waitress. Cashier. That kind of thing.”
“Says who?”
“It’s just the truth about the life Johnny and I lead. Neither of us went to school or had opportunities. Johnny’s parents get by, but not enough to help us out.”
“You’re a smart girl. Seems like you could’ve figured it out if you wanted.”
“I guess it’s possible that,” she hesitated, “I got a little too comfortable at Hey Joe. But things will be different now.”
“How?”
“I’ll be on the business end of things. Making decisions, coming up with ideas.”
“You won’t continue bartending?” he asked in a way that sounded as if he already knew the answer.
“Well, I will in the beginning.” She inhaled when he hit a sore spot in her lower back. “I’ll keep doing that until things are running smoothly. Hopefully not more than a few years.”
“Do you think things will change because of the money?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“If I were Johnny, things wouldn’t be fine for me. I couldn’t live with myself after this. Then again, I wouldn’t have allowed it in the first place.”
“You keep saying that,” Lola said, “but you don’t know. You made it nearly impossible for us to turn it down.”
“That’s true. I wo
uldn’t have offered it if I hadn’t known you’d accept.”
“There’s no way you could’ve known,” she said. “I almost said no.”
He was quiet a moment. “But you didn’t.”
No, she hadn’t. And apparently he’d known all along what her answer would be. She pursed her lips. “You have issues, Beau. Anyone ever told you that?”
“Maybe an ex-girlfriend here or there.”
If she could’ve rolled her eyes without opening them, she would have. “Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend? Nobody can handle you?”
“No.” He sounded offended, like a small boy. It made Lola smile, picturing him that way. “It’s because nobody interests me at the moment.”
“Not even me?” There was definite flirtatiousness in her question, but it was natural to be flirting in bed with the man who’d just done what he had to her.
“People or things that defy my expectations get my attention,” Beau said. “So, to answer your question, yes, you do.”
“Oh, I see. I get it,” she said. “The trashy girl from the slums who doesn’t put up with your shit. The one who tells you ‘no’ when you’re constantly surrounded by yes men.”
He grunted. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to that side of you, but it isn’t all you are, is it? You really should stop referring to yourself as trash.”
“I was being facetious.”
“But you believe it, even if you pretend not to be bothered by it.”
She grew up in a poor neighborhood without a father. She’d been a teenage stripper. Lola wasn’t oblivious to what people probably thought of her. If that was their conclusion, better that she beat them to it. That didn’t mean she believed it. “Admit it. You must’ve thought that, even a little, when you first met me.”
“I didn’t. And I don’t want to hear it again. It’s beginning to irk me.”
“Well,” she said, sighing, “I wouldn’t want to irk you.”
