Perfectly Lonely: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Let Me In Book 2)

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Perfectly Lonely: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Let Me In Book 2) Page 9

by Jessica Marin


  Layla squeezes my hand as sympathy shines from her eyes.

  “I went home to confront him, only to find him screwing his mistress. With the knowledge of the embezzlement and then seeing him betray my mother, I went crazy and beat the shit out of him. I left and went straight to a bar to get drunk. I woke up the following morning to my brother pouring water on my face since I was so drunk the night before that I missed the phone call saying he died from a heart attack. I went straight home to comfort my mother, but she wanted nothing to do with me. My brother didn’t speak to me. So, I left. Went to Seattle and just partied to numb the pain.”

  “Chase, you didn’t kill your dad,” Layla whispers softly. “He was probably carrying around so much stress from his lies and deceit, that it was only a matter of time for that heart attack to occur.”

  I ignore her theory and continue. “His sudden death was all over the news, as was my absence. Two weeks after his funeral, my brother found me and asked me to come home. Telling me that creditors and banks were now calling, asking for payments of money they didn’t seem to have. They needed me to come home to take charge and fix everything. I told him no, that he was in charge now. He got angry, we fought and he left. Next thing I knew there was a press release stating I was taking a sabbatical and my brother was now the interim CEO of Wilson Enterprises. That was over two years ago.”

  “How has the company been staying afloat for two years?”

  “The wine we made had exported out for the season already, so we made profits in that year from the winery, but we sold off as many assets as we could with Wilson Enterprises and had to lay off a lot of people. This year’s ice wine sales weren’t so good. If we have another bad year, we’ll have to go under. For someone who knew nothing about the family business, Rhys has done an amazing job,” I admit, secretly proud of my brother and what he has done to survive.

  “Were you close with your brother?” She tilts her head while asking in curiosity.

  “We were close once, but this has put a wedge between us. We’re completely different people. Our temperaments are a mix of our parents, but looks wise, he looks like my mother and I look like our father. He blames me for ending his career in hockey. If I hadn’t left, he would still be playing, possibly in the NHL.”

  “You don’t know that, Chase.”

  “No, I do. He was really good. Scouts had been watching him from a young age.” One of the few things my father would boast about was how good Rhys was at hockey and how numerous scouts were calling about him.

  “What about your mother? Have you heard from her since?”

  “Yes, she calls and texts me, begging me to come home. She says she loves me and that none of this is my fault, but I can’t handle the pain I still hear in her voice. Luckily, she has been in Germany this past summer visiting family, so the phone calls have been at a minimum.”

  “How did you wind up becoming a paparazzi?” she quietly asks, her thumb rubbing circles inside my palm to soothe me.

  “I was in Los Angeles for a weekend of debauchery with friends when I was approached by a paparazzi who happened to be Canadian. He started taking my picture, asking where I’ve been and I started chatting with him, asking him how he ended up where he was. My brother had been texting me, saying he was going to have to liquidate assets, asking me to help, but I was not ready to go home. So I figured I could help from afar by making money being a paparazzi. Photography was already a hobby of mine, so why not get paid to do something you love? Little did I know the seediness of the business. I started networking, making contacts who would accept bribes and I became good at it. The money started coming in and in some sick way, it made me feel like I was doing something to contribute to the mess back home, that I was making amends. But, it wasn’t until I met you and Jenna and got to spend time with you both that I realized that I’m better than this business. The last thing I want to do is hurt innocent people.”

  She accepts that I’ve reached the end of my story by my silence and takes a shaky breath. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I know how hard that must have been for you and I hope you feel somewhat relieved, as it helps me understand you and why you did what you did in Las Vegas.” She untangles her fingers that were laced with mine and positions my hand so that she’s holding it with both of hers. “I think you know that going home is the right decision. We can’t pick our families and the damage that your father did is done. But you have the opportunity to save yourself, your brother and your mom. Don’t you think they’re worth saving? They’re the two people who love you the most.”

  I look at her in silence and eventually nod my head, because coming from her, everything sounds right.

  “This is your chance to take ownership of your family business and take it to the level you always have dreamed of doing. Don’t drown yourself in the facts of how the business became yours. Relish in the fact that you can now make it your own and do good with it.”

  Her words are exactly what I need to hear. Her confidence in me gives me hope that if she can forgive me and move past my previous actions, then maybe my brother can too. She sat here with me, listened to my whole story without passing judgment, and is now trying to encourage me. Her affirmation in me makes me believe that I do need to try to change everything for the better with my family and Wilson Enterprises. As my eyes scan her face and see her sincerity, I realize this is exactly the woman I need by my side.

  “Layla,” I growl out, not being able to contain my need for her any longer. “I’m going to kiss you now.” I don’t give her time to protest as my lips are on her in seconds. I shove my hands into her hair and hold her face to mine, not giving her the opportunity to pull away from me. Any hesitation she has is gone within seconds as she kisses me back. I want to yell out in victory at finally having her willing in my arms.

  Her lips part at the demands of my tongue and I moan at the taste of her sweetness. While we continue kissing, my hands grab her hips to pull her on top of me, needing her to straddle me so I can feel as close to her as I can get. She deepens our kiss by wrapping her arms around my neck and I can’t stop my hands from roving down her back, over her delicious ass and to the side of her hips, pressing her down against me. My hands smooth up her back and pull her shirt out from the waistband of her skirt. Her skin is scalding hot and I make my way up to her breasts, my fingers aching to play with her nipples. As soon as I start squeezing them, she gasps against my lips and starts to unconsciously move against my erection. My brain screams at me for the need to get inside of her. If I don’t stop this now, I will soon explode against my pants. I reluctantly pull my hands away and break apart from our kiss. I rest my forehead against hers, our breaths mixing into one as we try to regain our composure.

  “If we continue, I’m spending the night and never leaving,” I breathe out, giving her the opportunity to make our decision. She leans back and stares at me, her lustful eyes searching mine as her breathing continues to even out. She releases my neck and her fingers slowly push my hair behind my ears. It is long enough now that it can curl right around the ear. I give her a grateful smile for getting it out of my face. She rubs her thumbs along my cheekbones as her eyes continue to stare into my soul. I see something change in them and when her hands let go of my face, I know I will not like her answer.

  “I think it’s late and time for you to head home.”

  I swallow my disappointment and nod my head in agreement. I want her to have zero doubts about being with me and as much as it physically pains me to leave right now, I’ll do so if she’s not ready. I help her off my lap, my hands lingering on her skirt as I drag it back down her shapely thighs. Her eyes hover for a moment on the huge bulge in my pants before she turns around and heads toward the kitchen. I stand up and fix myself, trying to mentally think of anything else besides her to help ease my discomfort. She goes to the kitchen and brings us back glasses of water. She takes two big gulps of her drink, places it down on the counter and walks toward her door. I
down the rest of my water before joining her. She opens the door and I stop right in front of her, needing to have one last look of her for my dreams tonight.

  “Thank you for tonight. It meant a lot to me.” I lean down and kiss her softly on the lips, inhaling her delicious coconut and vanilla sent one more time until tomorrow. I quickly pull away before it gets any deeper and make my way over the threshold of her door.

  “Chase?” she calls out to me and I turn around, hoping she has changed her mind about me leaving. She’s struggling with what she has to say, but her words soon stop me from approaching her.

  “Don’t fall in love with me, Chase,” she swallows before continuing on. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

  My mind goes blank as her words are like tiny needles to my heart. I thought we made progress tonight, but I realize she has let the ghost of her dead husband come in to haunt her.

  “Don’t worry, Layla. You won’t.”

  I turn on my heels and leave.

  16

  Layla

  Chase’s words from last night continue to occupy my thoughts this morning as I head to Jenna’s offices to meet up with Robert. I tossed and turned all night long, my body still tingling from his touch, but my mind wide awake with wonder in his confidence that I won’t unintentionally hurt him. Now that I know his past history, I see Chase in a different light. I understand his motives for what he did and I’m relieved that he sees how harmful being a paparazzi can be. But what Chase wants from me is something I’m not ready to give yet, despite my feelings for him starting to change. His kisses completely rob me of my thoughts and the look in his eyes last night confirmed that he wants to consume me, body and soul. I’m not ready to be consumed. I still need to focus on me and making more positive changes in my life.

  And then there’s the fact that he’s going back to Vancouver.

  I sigh in frustration, wishing that my entry into the dating world could be a little simpler. Why did I have to start becoming interested in someone who was leaving? I shake my head at myself when the ringing of my cell phone interrupts my thoughts and to my disappointment, I see that Robert is calling me instead of Chase.

  “I’m on my way,” I answer instead of saying hello so he would know that I’m close by.

  “Great, but I need a favor. Can you make a detour and go to the pharmacy? I need condoms.”

  “What? I don’t want to buy your condoms for you!” I exclaim, not understanding why this purchase can’t happen later on by him.

  “Please? I would buy your tampons for you! I don’t have time today to go get some and am fresh out with a hot date tonight,” he explains while whining at the same time. His whining is like nails on a chalkboard and makes my ears hurt.

  “The difference is that people would know that the tampons aren’t for you, while people will assume the condoms are for me!” I say, already annoyed that he’s asking me to go do this for him.

  “So you’re saying you now care about what people think of you?” he asks with sarcasm and I want to kick him in his balls so that he won’t need condoms for a while. “First off, fuck them for judging. Secondly, they might praise you for practicing safe sex. Don’t make a big deal of this. People, a.k.a women, buy condoms all the time.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing that he’s right. “Fine, I will stop and get you condoms. Please tell me though this is the same guy you have been dating for the past two weeks?”

  “I’m happy to report that it is,” he says and I can hear him smiling into the phone.

  “That is great, Robert!” I say enthusiastically, as I’m genuinely happy for him.

  “Oh, it won’t last. How he eats his food is already driving me crazy,” he laughs, and I can’t help but shake my head at his pickiness.

  “You’re crazy,” I laugh. “Okay, I’m about to go into the store. See you soon.” I hang up and make my way to the aisle that contains the condoms. Of course, they would be on the bottom shelf and require me to bend down in my skirt in order for me to look at the package. I grab a box, but realize that Robert never told me what size to buy. I send him a quick text asking for size preference. While I wait for his response, I start to study each box, reading the differences in each brand.

  “I recommend always buying the x-large size as you don’t want to hurt the man’s feelings.” The deep, masculine voice scares me and I drop the box of condoms as if it burned me. I bolt up and drop the other box on the floor. The man laughs and picks up both boxes off of the floor.

  “I’m sorry if I scared you. You just had a confused look across your face while reading between each box so I thought I would help you.” He’s dressed in a three piece grey pinstripe suite with a white dress shirt and black tie. The suit shows off his thick, muscled body and hugs it in all the right places. His cologne smells expensive. His head is clean shaven, but his face is covered in dark hair that is closely trimmed to his strong jaw. His eyes are ice blue surrounded by dark thick lashes. He flashes a killer smile that shows off his bright white teeth. He uses his smile as a distraction, but I can’t ignore my immediate assessment of him.

  He radiates confidence.

  He oozes sexuality.

  He feels dangerous.

  The old Layla would have taken one look at this man and made him her next one night stand. The new Layla is going to be polite and walk away, especially since another man has started to occupy her thoughts.

  “Thank you,” I stammer. “I’m buying these for a friend and he never told me what size to buy.” As if on cue, my phone dings, indicating I received a text message. I look down and sure enough, Robert’s response is x-large. “Looks like you were right.”

  “What a beautiful messenger he has for himself.” He doesn’t even try to be discreet in checking out my body. I blush, his gaze making me uncomfortable. “He’s very lucky to have a friend like you.”

  “Thanks again for your help,” I say, wanting to get out of there as quickly as I can. I move past him and walk briskly to the cashier. I don’t dare look back as my intuition is telling me that he’s watching. I purchase the condoms swiftly and continue on my journey to meet up with Robert, willing myself to forget the encounter with the handsome stranger.

  Two hours later with zero work done, I follow Robert out of his office and accompany him to his first meeting of the day. “Why am I coming to this meeting with you again?” I question, wondering if he even gave me a reason why my presence is required. As soon as I got there, we talked about the mystery man at the pharmacy and placed bets on whether Jenna says yes to Cal’s proposal.

  “Because the manager specifically asked for Jenna and since she’s not here, I need you to impersonate her.”

  “I’m not going to lie and say I am her! What if he already knows what she looks like? He will never hire you after knowing you lied to him and Jenna will be livid!”

  “Okay fine, we won’t say you’re Jenna, but let’s not reveal that you don’t work for us unless he asks what your specific role is.” Robert waves a taxi down and opens the door for me to get in.

  “House of Royalty nightclub please,” Robert tells the driver, and I gasp in recognition of the name.

  “I just applied for a job there last week!” I say with excitement, hoping that I can ask the manager if he had a chance to look over my resume.

  “You did?” Robert asks with a shocked expression on his face. “Since when have you been applying for new jobs?”

  “Since the last trip to Los Angeles was a wake up call that I need to find a new job that has a healthier work environment for me.”

  “Honey, House of Royalty probably would not fit your new job requirement. I hear the basement is a swingers club!” He rubs his hands together in excitement.

  “I don’t think that’s true.” I hope it isn’t, because if it is, I couldn’t work there. Although, this job would keep me in the hospitality industry, it would be a new start with no travel. The position is for the assistant manager and with House of Royalt
y being one of the premiere nightclubs in Chicago, getting this position would make me more marketable for the future.

  “I’m just hoping that the general manager is not as sexy as his name, otherwise I might cream my pants right in front of him.” I look to see if the cab driver is paying attention to our conversation and sure enough, Robert gets a weird look directed at him from the rearview mirror.

  “I hope this happens as well, as I would love to report that back to Jenna.” I can just picture the shocked look on her face and an evil smile forms on my face.

  “Oh please, I have already creamed my pants for Cal!” He waves his hand at his statement as if it’s old news.

  “Eew! That’s disgusting, Robert! I really hope Jenna doesn’t know about that.” I shake my head at the mental image that Robert just provided.

  He just shrugs his shoulders, as if it’s no big deal to lust after his boss’ boyfriend. “I’m a gay man and Cal is one fine mother fucker. Literally.” He throws his head back and laughs at his own joke. I cover my eyes and groan, not comprehending how Jenna puts up with Robert sometimes. I need to change this subject fast, as I have no desire to learn what else Robert has fantasized about when it pertains to Cal.

  “So what’s the manger’s name? I might ask if they’ve looked over my resume.”

  “I prefer you don’t, as he might wonder why one of my employees is looking for a job. Which by the way, I’ll say you only work part-time for us if he asks.” He gives me a direct look and I nod my head in acknowledgment of the plan. “His name is Torrin Richards. Isn’t that the sexiest name you’ve ever heard?”

  “Honestly, it sounds like a porn star name,” I say, confused about what the fuss is for.

 

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