Whatever.
Enough was enough. I’d ended the evening and scheduled a time to get together tomorrow.
I’d given Sam the night off, and instead of taking the rental, I’d taken my red Ferrari. It stayed at the house for times like this when I preferred to drive on my own.
My stomach growled from missing dinner, and all I could think about was asking Leslie to whip something up for me to eat when I got back. If she’d already gone to bed, then I’d just have to find something—anything. Not eating only intensified the pounding in my head.
Once home, I walked into the house, and this music hit me over the head like a jackhammer crushing into my skull. First of all, it was entirely too loud. And second, it made me want to jump out of my skin.
It was some kind of violin music and the song was hyper and frenzied—way too much for my throbbing head to cope with right now. Maybe Leslie was listening to it in her room. Where was she? I needed to find her so I could talk to her about fixing something to eat. The music was coming from the direction of the staff bedrooms, so I headed that way. It was so loud and obnoxious I wanted to throw something. Putting my hands over both sides of my head, I closed my eyes and took a breath. She needed to turn it off.
Right. Now.
I strode down the hallway towards the bedrooms. I wasn’t even sure which bedroom belonged to Leslie, but the noise would give it away. The sound came from one bedroom in particular, so I raised my fist and knocked on the door.
No response.
The music just kept going on and on. This time I pounded with all my might. “Leslie, this is Lucas. Turn that off.”
The door flew open but it wasn’t Leslie. It was Aria.
Chapter 10
Aria
Lucas stood in my doorway with a scowl on his face, eyes blazing, fists clenched. His gaze dipped to the violin in my hands and his expression hardened. “So, you’re the one who’s making that racket.” He put a hand over his forehead. “That’s right. How could I forget? You brought an instrument. Why did I let you do that?” He looked tired and worn down.
“Racket?”
“Yeah, that noise. It’s awful.”
I blinked. No one had ever said my playing was awful. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he just being mean or did he really think I was terrible? I’d obviously upset him and needed to smooth things over. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were out for the evening. Sam said you’d gone on a date and most likely wouldn’t be back until late.”
“As it turns out, two hours is about as much as I can take of date night,” he said, using air quotes and sounding irritable.
“It didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?” Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but I was way too curious not to.
He stared at me with an unreadable expression. “It went exactly how I thought it would.”
“Is that good or bad?”
He closed his eyes and breathed out. “It just is.” When he opened them again, his gaze fell to my violin once more. “I don’t want to hear that thing again. Put it away while I’m home. Play it when I’m gone if it makes you happy, but don’t play it around me.”
“All right. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
Maybe I should have been wounded. What he’d said would have hurt most people’s feelings, but I knew I was a good player. My confidence didn’t come from whether or not Lucas Armstrong approved. I wasn’t a professional or anything, but plenty of people had complimented my skills over the years, and I knew how to command a crowd. It was one of the things I loved most about performing on the street.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Lucas was having a bad night. I could cut him some slack as long as he didn’t cross a line.
Something crashed to the ground in another room, and we both stopped talking.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Sounds like it came from the kitchen.”
My eyes widened. “No one else should be home. Leslie told me she was going to a bar and wouldn’t be back until late. Sam isn’t here either. He said he wanted to do the tourist thing.”
“Let me check it out.” Lucas turned and headed down the hallway.
My pulse picked up. It would be safer to stay in my room, but I’d rather know if there was an intruder than wait for him to come to me. Living on the streets, I’d learned it was better to be on the offensive and figure out ahead of time what you were getting into.
I followed close behind Lucas, adrenaline coursing through me at the thought of what we might discover. When we arrived at the kitchen, my jaw dropped open.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Heat rushed to my face.
Leslie and some dude were making out, and the guy looked like one of those cliché men from the nineteen eighties with a hairy chest and several gold chains. Neither of them seemed to notice us, and they just kept on kissing as if we weren’t there. Food was scattered everywhere: pots and pans and plates in the sink and all over the countertop. It appeared like they’d been having a feast and were now engaged in the evening entertainment. How had I not heard them? I must have been too caught up in my music.
I glanced at Lucas and he looked furious . . . Like he was about to explode.
“Leslie,” he said, in a low voice.
She didn’t stop and neither did the man. Where did she find this guy? Had she just met him at the bar tonight?
“Leslie,” Lucas said louder, voice almost shaking with anger.
They both stopped kissing and turned, eyes widening as they saw us standing there.
“Mr. Armstrong,” Leslie said, appearing startled. “Why are you home? Sam said—”
“Who is this?” Lucas gestured to the man. “And why is he in my house?”
The man stepped forward and extended his hand. The scent of alcohol mixed with cheap cologne drifted towards us. “Hi, I’m Dennis Rudamaker.”
My eyes nearly bugged out now that I had a view of him straight-on. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he had so much chest hair . . . gobs and gobs of it sticking out from underneath the gold chains, and it was all over his face as well. His beard hung down at least five inches past his chin. It was ungroomed and looked greasy. Lucas didn’t shake the man’s hand or even look at him. His eyes remained on Leslie. “What’s going on?”
Her head dropped forward, and she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Sam said you were out for the night and probably wouldn’t be back until late. I . . .” She glanced down. “I went out to get a drink and met Dennis. We were just having some fun.”
“I can see that,” Lucas said, glancing around the kitchen. “Did you leave enough food for me?”
“I’m sure there’s something here,” she said in a panic. She started moving dishes haphazardly, and in her haste, knocked over another plate. It fell to the ground and smashed into tiny pieces. “Sorry.”
Dennis smiled awkwardly and pressed his hands together. “Looks like I should be on my way.”
“Oh, don’t go,” Leslie said, clearly flustered. “I’ll cook something for him, and then you and I can continue where we left off.”
“No, the party’s over,” he said, heading for the door.
Leslie ran after him. “Please don’t go. I promise you, it’s okay.” Her tone sounded frantic as if he was the last man on earth, and she couldn’t let him get away.
“Sorry, babe. Things just got complicated, and I don’t do complicated.” The door opened and then slammed shut. From the sound of it, Leslie trailed out the door after him. Her high-pitched voice could be heard, pleading with him outside.
Unbelievable. Was she trying to get herself fired? Not to mention, whatever happened to a woman’s dignity?
She returned after a few moments and wrung her hands. “I can’t believe this . . .” She glanced at Lucas like this was his fault. She began roughly moving dishes to the sink and another almost slipped through her fingers, but she caught it just in time.
“Leslie, what was going on he
re?” Lucas asked.
“I told you. I met Dennis at a bar.”
“But why did you bring him back to my house? You know I’m not okay with visitors unless you clear it with me first. You didn’t even know this man.”
She ran a hand through her hair, appearing shy all of a sudden. “He was so good-looking, I couldn’t help myself.”
Interesting assessment. Apparently, she liked hairy men. At least it proved there was someone for everyone.
“He could have been a predator for all you knew,” Lucas said. “What if he’d hurt you?” He glanced at me. “He could have hurt Aria.”
She pointed her finger at me and her face turned blotchy red. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“As long as she stays here she does. You brought an unknown man into this house while I was away . . . while Sam was away.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” She picked up a kitchen towel and began wiping the counters mindlessly.
“It is to me,” Lucas said.
She shook her head, glancing down. “You know what? I’m so tired of your rules. I quit.” She threw the towel down and stormed to her room, slamming the door behind her.
“Wow, I can’t believe she did that,” I said.
“Good riddance. I was about to fire her, anyway.” He winced and massaged his temples. “Just wish she had quit after cooking a meal. I’m so hungry right now I could eat a bear, and my head is killing me.”
“If you want, I can make something for you.”
Lucas glanced at me. “You know how to cook?”
“Yeah, I know a thing a two.”
“I’d really appreciate it.” He grimaced. “I’m going to lay down on the couch for a while until my head stops pounding.”
Leslie walked past us, rolling a large suitcase. She didn’t say anything to either of us before she headed towards the door.
“Hold on,” Lucas said. He opened his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash, running after her. “This will cover what I owe you, plus some for a hotel and plane ticket home.”
I peeked around the corner and watched them. She walked up to him and took the money. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, letting me go.”
“What did you think I would do? Fight for you to stay after all that?”
Leslie jutted her hip out and put a finger on her chin. “I might consider staying if you double my pay.”
“Nice try.”
“What about—”
“It’s time for us to part ways,” Lucas said.
She glared at him. “You know what? There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a while, and now that I don’t work for you anymore . . .”
“Go ahead. Say it.”
“You have looks. You have money.” Her face screwed up unattractively, and she over-enunciated each word. “But you don’t have a heart. You can’t find a woman to stay with you because you’re just a shell of a human being.” She pushed her finger into his chest, but he didn’t move away. “Empty, soulless, uncaring . . . You have no feelings.” Her eyes narrowed. “Your own mother didn’t even love you.”
I gasped and moved away from my spot by the wall, not caring that they could both see I’d been spying. “Leslie, you’re completely out of line—”
“No, it’s okay,” Lucas said, glancing at me over his shoulder. “She’s right.” He gestured for her to leave. “You can go now.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. His anger had subsided, and he was so calm it was almost eerie.
Leslie must have noticed too because her eyes widened, and she stepped back like she didn’t trust what he’d do next. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. Don’t take it back. It’s the truth. And because I don’t have feelings, I don’t care.” He waved her off. “Move along, please.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died on her tongue. She ducked out the front door, phone in her hand, already calling a cab to pick her up.
Lucas turned around and there was so much pain in his eyes my heart caught in my throat. I wanted to go to him and hug him. Comfort him in some way. But I could tell he needed space.
“I’m going to my room to lie down. Don’t bother cooking anything. I’m not hungry anymore.”
Chapter 11
Aria
An hour and a half later, after I’d cleaned the kitchen and was just taking a homemade pizza out of the oven, I heard a door open and close. Feet shuffled down the hallway. Lucas. Sam still hadn’t come home, so I knew it wasn’t him.
Lucas drifted into the kitchen, a hand on the back of his head, sleepy eyes glancing around the room. “You’ve been busy.”
I used a pizza cutter to divide the pizza into slices. “Yeah, figured you might be hungry if you woke up.”
“Good instincts. I’m starved.”
“There wasn’t any pepperoni, so I stir-fried some chicken and put barbecue sauce on it. Hope you like it.” I placed two pieces on a plate and handed it to him. “How’s your headache?”
His forehead creased. “A little better, but I still have this dull ache that won’t go away.”
“Maybe you just need to eat. Try that and see if it helps.”
“If this tastes as good as it smells, I’m going to have to up your pay.” He sat down at a bar stool in front of the kitchen island and picked up a slice. Biting into it, he chewed slowly. “Mmmm . . . This is so delicious.” He bit off another piece that was much too large for his mouth, but it didn’t seem to deter him. He closed his eyes and chewed some more, groaning. “Aria, how did you learn to cook like this?”
I shrugged. “My dad owned an Italian restaurant. I grew up learning how to make pizzas.”
“He did? What is he doing now?”
“He passed away—died from a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. It’s been five years, long enough that I don’t mind talking about it.”
He glanced at me between bites. “Do you miss him?”
“All the time.”
He nodded. “Must be nice.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you miss him that much, it means you were close.”
“Yeah, we were.” I put two slices of pizza on a plate and sat down across from him. “He raised me and my brother on his own. My mom died when I was young, but he did his best to fill both roles. He worked hard, but he didn’t just leave us at home. We were always at the restaurant. He loved that place. It was his heart and soul. People used to come, not only because the food was good, but because my dad knew his customers by name. He always took an interest in people’s lives. Made sure they felt welcomed and cared about.”
“Sounds like he was a good man.”
“He was.” I smiled, lost in thought.
“What happened to the restaurant?”
My smile faltered as I remembered those days. “He ran into some financial trouble and had to get a backer. This man offered to invest and become an equal partner. Dad was wary because he’d always had full control over all the decisions, but he had no choice. If he didn’t accept the money, he would have had to shut down. So, he agreed to the partnership and made the man promise that no matter what, all the employees stayed. He didn’t want anyone to lose their job.”
Lucas leaned his elbows on the counter. “Let me guess, the guy stabbed him in the back.”
I nodded. “Yeah. They signed a contract and Dad was never good at reading legal documents. He’d dropped out of high school to help his father run the restaurant when he was a teenager. Education wasn’t one of his strong points, and he was very trusting of people. Anyway, he didn’t get an attorney to look over the contract, and as it turned out, the man had put a clause in there that gave him the ability to make all final decisions.”
Lucas’s eyes were glued to me now, and there was concern on his face. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like what you say next.”
I grimaced. “Turns out, the man di
dn’t care about the restaurant. He just wanted the land. Apparently, he had plans to build a big hotel right there, and he’d already convinced the other local businesses to sell. It was all handled through different people so my dad had no idea. The restaurant was shut down, his employees were fired without severance pay, and my dad lost everything. It broke him. I believe he died of a broken heart.”
Lucas shook his head and stared down at his remaining pizza. “That restaurant should have gone to you and your brother. I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
“Thanks. It still makes me sad when I think about it. I loved working in my dad’s restaurant and would love to have a restaurant of my own. I was about to go to college to major in restaurant management before Chase went missing.”
“So that’s your dream? To own your own restaurant one day?”
I nodded. “That and own a bright red Volkswagen Bug.” I laughed. “I know it sounds silly, but I just think they’re so cute.”
He laughed. “I can picture you in one of those.” He grew more serious. “I’m surprised you’re not more bitter. To have something like that happen . . .”
“I was at first, but God’s helped me come to terms with it. If He’d wanted me to have my dad’s restaurant, I would have it. He must have other things planned for my life.” I stared at my plate of food, trying to reign in my emotions. “I just want my dad back. If that man hadn’t entered our lives, maybe he’d still be alive today.” I cleared my throat and glanced at him, eyes watering. “Daddy wouldn’t want me to mourn him. He’s in heaven with the Lord. He’d want me to be happy, but it’s hard sometimes.”
Lucas nodded. “I can see how it would be.”
“Over the past few years, I’ve had to work through all the pain. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts like crazy, but God knew what He was doing. He was involved in every moment—saw everything that happened. He’ll bring about justice. I know He will.”
The Ruthless Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (California Elite) Page 8
