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7
They’d circled her neighborhood twice already, Lola biting her nails, the cab driver growing impatient. “Come on, lady, where you want to go?” he kept asking.
Walking out on Johnny had sounded easier when she’d known Warner would be out front, waiting to drive her back to Beau at the Four Seasons. For a little while, she’d had two homes, and now, she didn’t even have one.
They hadn’t had a real relationship in a while, but Lola could’ve shown up at her mom’s house without an explanation. The place she’d grown up had stopped being home a long time ago, though, and she hadn’t gone crawling back yet. Her mom might not say “I told you so,” but she’d be thinking it, the words close to the surface even eleven years after Lola’d moved out to strip.
She put her hand on the black duffel bag and felt the money just underneath the fabric. She had little of her own, but what she did have was hers without a doubt. An inordinate amount of cash. A freedom most people couldn’t dream of. The chance to leave her troubles behind. There were things at the apartment she might’ve liked to keep—mostly photos or mementos—but everything she needed was there on the seat next to her. She no longer had anything tying her to Los Angeles.
Beau had cut deep, though. In two nights, he’d seen inside her, and like she’d told him in the shower—she’d felt him there like a thunderstorm. On her stomach, on his hotel bed, he’d had her at her most vulnerable, but it was more than physical. She’d trusted him. And in return, he’d treated her like one of his companies, an investment, a challenge, leading her down a path painstakingly designed to get her where he wanted.
How many people had fallen prey to his charms, been the subject of his fascination, been manipulated by him? She had no idea, but she knew this—Beau had never paid the price for his sins. Nobody’d ever had the weapons to use against him, and he’d made sure of that. Every careful step Beau made in his life was toward wealth, but Lola knew it wasn’t the money he cared about. It was the power it afforded him. While his bank account was fat, nobody could ever deny him anything.
Lola felt it like a knot in her chest, the indignity of it. Beau couldn’t be allowed to play with people’s lives anymore. He deserved to feel her pain as if it were his own. He’d once said to her that a man of his wealth trusted his enemies more than his friends. Lola was an enemy now, but she’d been a friend to him once, and she could be that again.
Lola looked at the driver in the rearview mirror. “Take me to Rodeo Drive.”
If she was going to play Beau’s game, she had to look the part—and that meant buying herself a wardrobe fit for the queen Beau had once believed her to be.
* * *
Lola stepped out of the cab and looked up at the towering Four Seasons. With a garment bag draped across her arm and a million dollars slung over her shoulder, she entered the hotel. She wore her new white dress, a form-fitting, short little thing she never would’ve looked twice at before. She was greeted by three different men before she reached the front desk.
“Good evening.” The male concierge smiled. “How can I help you?”
Lola handed him her passport, currently her only form of identification. “I need a room.”
He dropped his eyes to the computer. After a few clicks of his mouse, he nodded. “You’re in luck. We have a couple left. How many nights?”
Lola traced her finger over the marble counter. She had to act fast. Beau was a man of resolve, but she meant something to him. He’d be confused by that, his memories and wounds fresh, his need for revenge less pressing than he’d thought. She needed to worm her way back in before he’d hardened into something unbreakable again. “One night. And I’m paying in cash.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll need a card for incidentals, though.”
Lola hesitated. She had no plan yet, and she preferred to stay off the grid until she knew more. “You won’t charge it?”
“Not unless you give us a reason to. There will be a pending charge, but it’ll fall off after a day or two.”
She gave it over reluctantly, leaving her hand open for the few seconds it took the concierge to swipe it. He handed it back to her and slid a keycard across the counter. “How’s the eleventh floor?”
“Fine.”
“Do you need assistance to your room?”
She shrugged a shoulder and showed him her bags. “This is everything I own.”
He glanced over the counter and raised his eyebrows. “Not much, is it?”
A voice behind her stopped Lola’s response in her throat. She would’ve recognized it anywhere, from the gates of heaven to the depths of hell and everywhere in between.
Her heart pounded. The concierge spoke, but she couldn’t hear him. Five minutes in the lobby, and she was already going to see Beau again. She hadn’t planned for it, but she hadn’t planned for anything yet. Her only goal was to reconcile with him as quickly as she could.
She inhaled a deep breath to calm herself. Beau would sense any fear and trepidation in an instant. She picked up the key from the counter and turned around. Beau was squatted on the floor next to a pretty blonde.
She didn’t wait to find out why. She seized the chance to pass him while his head was down. This wasn’t the right time to see him. She needed time to figure out some kind of strategy.
“There’s always a plan, Lola.”
Lola punched the “Up” button, thankful the elevator was already there. Inside, she selected the eleventh floor and tried to turn away. She couldn’t. She watched in a nearby mirror as he stood. It was almost reassuring to see him again. It was clear as day to her now, how she’d associated being near him with safety. The feeling passed quickly, and she concentrated instead on grasping tidbits of his conversation with the girl.
“…somewhere to be…after ten.”
“…only a few hours. I don’t mind waiting…”
The doors began to close, and as they met in the middle, Beau’s eyes shifted over. Her breath caught. A second passed, and the elevator rose with a jolt. Even if he’d seen her, she didn’t think it’d been enough time to recognize her. Still, with every floor she passed, tension gripped her, and it didn’t let go until she was safe in her room.
