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“Good.” I don’t say more because what can I say? She’s more fuckable than ever. I can’t get rid of the hard-on in my pants since I met her. She’s about to auction off her virginity.
My mother laughs. “Oh, my darling, as descriptive as ever I see. Is she married?”
“No, Mom, she isn’t.”
“I always thought you two might get together, you know.”
This surprises me. “You did?”
“Yes. You always looked at her like she hung the moon, and she’d follow you anywhere.”
“We were kids.”
“Oh, I know that, sweetheart, but still. She was a lovely girl. I was sad when they left the way they did. How is her mother?”
I realize I haven’t asked her a single thing about her life, too captivated by her attitude and the way she makes my dick hard. “I have no idea.”
“Oh.”
I can hear the disappointment in my mother’s voice and hate that I put it there. “I’ll ask her next time I see her.”
“You’re seeing her again?”
God, when will I stop my brain from spewing out words to her? My mother has always been the one woman who can wrap me around her little finger. Well, she and Lottie, but afterward it was just my mother. She’s the only woman I trust or will ever trust again.
“Perhaps, I frequent the place she works, so maybe.” I know her next question and want to cut it off at the knees before she has the chance to sink her teeth into this conversation. “Mom, I have to go. I’ll come over on Sunday and we can have lunch. Love you.”
I hang up before she can respond and grip the back of my neck. Now I’ve gotten myself caught in a predicament of my own making and it’s Lottie’s damn fault.
That woman is the bane of my existence.
7: Lottie
Since the nightI made Lincoln the Adios Motherfucker cocktail he’s stayed out of my way. A big part of me is grateful and relieved but a small part I don’t want to acknowledge is disappointed. I hate that he can still evoke even that amount of feeling in me.
On the positive, I’ve signed the contract for the auction, and it’s now confirmed. I’ll be one of the five girls up on the podium on the night. My belly flutters with nerves even though it’s two weeks out.
I push that aside as I wipe my hands over the short, silver, backless dress I’m to wear tonight. Harrison informed me that I’d be required to work a week on the third floor where the auction will be held. I hadn’t known a lot about that part of the club until he explained it was a sex club.
I was a little shocked, to say the least, but I shouldn’t have been, given the auction. I signed the non-disclosure agreement forbidding me from discussing the third floor or anyone I might see up there. I didn’t care about that, who would I tell? I have no life apart from the club, the diner, and Eric, and I’ll go to the grave before I tell him what I’m doing.
Exiting the bathroom, I run straight into the last person I want to see. “Mr. Coldwell.”
He looks dashing in a grey three-piece suit, his blue eyes bright and his hair messy in a way I know he’s been running his fingers through it in frustration.
“Lottie.”
We stare at one another for a moment, the electricity arcing between us as strong as it’s ever been but now tinged with an undercurrent of mistrust and wariness.
His eyes sweep over me from head to toe and I try not to fidget even as I feel my nipples bead in the flimsy dress. His eyes, so expressive in the past, give nothing away of how he’s feeling. He’s a closed book now, so far from the boy who’d tell me his dreams and desires with excitement and hope simmering inside him.
I always knew he’d do great things and everything I’ve read about him over the last few weeks has only confirmed that. He’s successful in his own right, not just because of Kennedy Enterprises. He’s also a huge benefactor for several charities, some of which are very close to my own heart.
“I should get going.”
“It’s your week on the third floor?”
“Yes.”
