Seducing Lola

by Jessica Prince Author

  I held up my hand. “Oh no, those are all yours. I wouldn’t dream of taking your food.”

  I could have sworn she was about to throw up. Her hand visibly trembled as she slowly lifted one of the oysters off the plate and brought it to her mouth. The closer it got the worse it shook. She looked so adorably ridiculous with her mouth hanging open, her hand suspended in the air as her face grew paler by the second, that it was impossible for me to hold back my chuckle.

  “I can’t!” She finally cried out seconds later, dropping the offending-looking mollusk onto the plate like it had bitten her. “I can’t, all right! I’m sorry but that just looks revolting!” Her top lip curled up as she looked down at it and my chuckle turned into full-blown laughter.

  Once I was finally able to stop, there was no missing the glare she shot me from across the table. “I’m sorry.” I sucked in a much-needed breath. “I’m sorry, but you have to admit that one came back and bit you in the ass, sweetheart.”

  She sighed and dropped her hands into her lap. “It really did, didn’t it?”

  “Yep.” Picking up my wineglass, I took a sip, keeping my eyes locked on hers over the rim of the glass. “But it was commendable, I’ll give you that. For a second there, I really thought you were going to eat it.”

  “And I would have! If it didn’t look like something a frat boy throws up after a kegger.”

  “You have a gift for painting a colorful visual.” I laughed again, that time earning myself a smile from the other side of the table.

  She shrugged casually and picked up her own glass. “What can I say, it’s a talent.”

  “Oh I’m aware. I listen to the show.”

  Those beautiful chocolate eyes went wide as she set her wineglass back on the table. “You do? Really?” I loved that I just caught her off guard. On top of her beauty, she had a quick wit I’d never known another woman to have. That veneer she coated herself in sometimes seemed impenetrable, so it was nice to see she could be taken by surprise just like the rest of us.

  “Of course. After our interesting little segment, I couldn’t help but be curious about KTSW’s most lucrative talk radio show. But I’ll admit that I haven’t figured out if I find the things I’ve learned about the inner workings of the female mind to be knowledgeable or terrifying.”

  Her grin couldn’t be described as anything but wicked as she answered, “If you’re a smart man, you’d find it to be both.”

  I returned her grin with one of my own, one I knew affected women the way I wanted it to. “Oh, I’m a very smart man.”

  Lola scrunched her face up and tilted her head to the side speculatively, pretending to study me before finally saying, “I’m not so sure about that. A smart man is usually able to take a hint. You seem to love bashing into a brick wall over and over again, expecting to see a different result.”

  “You’re having dinner with me, aren’t you?” I quickly countered.

  “Not of my own free will,” she rebutted without missing a beat.

  I pulled in a deep breath as I watched her across the table. Humor flashed behind her eyes, and I could see her trying hard to fight a smile. “Just admit it. You’re having fun right now.”

  Her chest rose and fell with each breath as she contemplated her answer, but I could see it on her face clear as day. She was enjoying herself.

  Eventually she let out a huff. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m having a little fun.” She teasingly held her thumb and index finger a millimeter apart to make her point.

  Thankfully, the server came to clear the uneaten appetizer away and refilled our wineglasses.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Lola Abbatelli.”

  She smirked at me over her glass, one dark brow quirked up. “Not a very original start, now is it.”

  Christ, I loved that fiery attitude. If my dick didn’t start behaving, I was either going to be stuck sitting all night or forced to go into the bathroom and take care of myself. I’d have preferred to bend Lola over the table and fuck her until she screamed, but self-preservation told me the timing was way off.

  “Doesn’t matter if it’s unoriginal if it’s true.” I shrugged. “I’m genuinely interested in you. I think you know that.”

  She paused momentarily, and that was all I needed to confirm that she felt the exact same thing brewing between us that I did. No matter what came out of her mouth.

  “And I think you’re just begging for a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

  “How can I possibly sexually harass you when you want me just as much as I want you?”

  Her mouth dropped open with a bewildered laugh. “That! That right there is why I accused you of being a playboy. You think you can just throw that stuff out there and expect me to drop my panties, just like that?”

  Before I could respond, two servers interrupted our conversation just long enough to place our meals in front of us. I didn’t bother looking down at my plate, maintaining eye contact until we were once again alone.

  “I’m not a playboy, Lola — I’m determined. There’s a difference. I’m a man who sees something he wants and is willing to break his back working to get it. I’m upfront and honest in all things. Don’t confuse the two.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re telling me that you’re willing to break your back for a one-night stand?” She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, Grayson. Not to mention a complete waste of time.”

  “Who said anything about one night?” Her entire body froze with the exception of her chest, which seemed to rise and fall quicker than it had been just moments before. I was definitely getting in there. “And I’d rather risk breaking my back doing something much more pleasurable with you, but like I said, I work for what I want.”

  Lola let out a slow, measured breath as she studied me. “And you want me.”

  It wasn’t a question, and I had no intention of lying. “I do. Very much. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  Her eyes finally broke from mine just long enough to repair any damage I might have managed to cause to that goddamned wall she kept around her like a fucking fortress.

  “What was your longest relationship?”

  My head jerked back slightly, and I’m sure my expression mirrored the surprise I experienced at her unexpected question. “What?”

  “Relationship. What’s the longest one you’ve had?”

  “Four years,” I answered. “We’d grown up together, our families close friends. We started dating after I graduated college, but she wanted to move the relationship along faster than I was ready for. Before that it was a year, and the one before that was two. Both of those were in college. And I was with my high school girlfriend for three years. Have I passed the interview process?” I finished, the frustration I felt seeping into my tone.

  She sat back in her chair with a huff. “God, you really aren’t a player, are you?”

  “You know,” I started in bewilderment, “I’m really trying to understand why you sound disappointed by that, but I just can’t figure it out.”

  Instead of answering, she carried on. “My longest relationship was maybe a year. But if I were to really sit down and do the math, it would probably be closer to nine months.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, unsure where she was going.

  “Why weren’t you willing to take your relationship with her to the next level? I mean, four years is a long time, isn’t it?”

  I was afraid that if she didn’t get to her point soon my head was likely to explode. “She wanted to get married and have kids. I wasn’t ready for that. I was twenty-six and just starting to make a name for myself in my father’s company. It took a while to earn the respect of the employees, convince them that I was there because I’d earned it, not because my dad handed it to me. I wanted to be stable in my career before I started a family. I didn’t feel that I was there yet.”

  From the look on her face she seemed to accept my answer, but it was her next one that caused the lightbulb over my head to go off. �
��So, if you’d been more stable in your career, would you have married her?”

  I knew exactly what she was doing. “I’m not answering that.” I smiled triumphantly at having outwitted what had to be the wittiest woman I’d ever met.

  “What? Why not?”

  I finished my wine and poured more into my glass, not bothering to wait for our server to appear and do it for me. “Because I’m not playing into your attempt to bait me.” She snorted and opened her mouth, prepared to deny it, but I didn’t give her a chance. “No matter what my answer is, you’ll twist it to use in a way that won’t end favorably for me. If I say yes, you’ll claim I’m still in love with her and pining away. If I say no, you’d probably accuse me of wasting her time when I knew all along I wasn’t going to settle down.” What flashed in her eyes told me I’d hit the nail right on the head, so I pushed on. “That was a past relationship that doesn’t play into what’s happening between you and me whatsoever. There’s no reason to dredge up the past, especially when it’s been over for years. But I will tell you this.” I leaned in, making sure I had all her attention before lowering my voice and finishing. “You’re going to have to work a lot harder if you’re hoping to dissuade me.”

  Her face scrunched into a glower that did nothing to detract from her stellar looks. Picking up her fork and knife, she began tearing into her steak while I reveled in my defeat for a few more seconds.

  “You’re really annoying when you’re being stubborn.”

  I chuckled as I picked up my own utensils to begin eating. “I’m probably the only person you’ve met who’s even half as stubborn as you, aren’t I?”

  She made a little grunting noise deep in her throat and focused on her food.

  “And you’re really fucking gorgeous when you’re pissed off,” I added — you know, just for fun.

  Lola

  “SO TELL ME something,” Grayson prompted once our entries had been cleared away and the mouthwatering dessert was set before us. I hadn’t been able to eat the entire thing, but what I’d managed to eat was decadent. The food and wine really were divine, and the company — to my utter dismay — was equally as good. I’d lost count of how many times I’d laughed throughout our meal. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun with a member of the opposite sex that didn’t include naked mattress dancing.

  “What’s that?” I asked, picking up my wine and finishing the last of it. I was on my third glass and already feeling happily warm from the inside out.

  “How did you get into the business of giving relationship advice?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked around a mouthful of crème brûlée with no shame whatsoever. The dessert was pure heaven. I wanted to marry it and have little baby raspberry crème brûlées. Before I swallowed the last of what was in my mouth, I was already shoveling in more. “You know,” I said after I managed to swallow. “You might want to get your own, because I’m totally not sharing this.” I pulled the plate closer to me and wrapped a protective arm around it so Grayson couldn’t steal any of my precious.

  His low, raspy chuckle was almost as good as my dessert. Almost. “I take it you like it,” he said, his voice filled with amusement.

  “Soooo good,” I groaned, my mouth full once again. It was tart and sweet and silky with a hint of chocolate from the truffles. It was officially one of my favorite things on the planet.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled at me. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  It took my sugar-addled brain a second to remember what he’d asked just a minute before. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” I swallowed the last bite and delicately wiped my mouth with the cloth napkin, barely able to hold myself back from licking the plate clean. “Well, it’s not a very interesting story, really. Daphne, Sophia, and I all went to college together. Daph was the only broadcasting major out of the three of us and got a job hosting a late-night show for our campus station. We used to go with and keep her company since she was there mostly by herself, and one night we were screwing around when a girl called in crying about how her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend.”

  “If Daphne was the only one hosting, how did you and Sophia get roped in?”

  A sneaky smile stretched across my lips as I recalled that particular night. “Let’s just say tequila helped. What I didn’t mention was that the three of us headed to the station after an Alpha Phi luau.”

  “Ah.” He sat back in his seat and regarded me, his stupid sexy eyes doing that attractive glimmer thing again. “I see.”

  “Yep.” A wine-induced giggle worked its way from my throat. “To be honest, we didn’t even remember what happened until the following day when we all got called in. Daphne was scared she was going to lose her job, but they ended up making it a three-person show instead. It just kind of snowballed from there. More girls started calling in, asking advice, and we just gave them our opinions. It was more a fluke than anything else. The three of us have never really had much luck in the relationship department, so when we weren’t offering advice, we were telling our own dating horror stories. People seemed to love it and” — I held my arms out at my sides — “here we are ten years later.”

  Silence ensued after I finished my story, and the inquisitive way he studied me from across the table made my skin start to tingle. It was like he was trying to see inside me and figure out all my secrets. I began to fidget in my seat, disconcerted by the intensity of his stare. When he finally spoke, his words were just as confusing as his expression.

  “You said have.”

  I cocked my head to the side, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

  “You said the three of you have never really had much luck with relationships, not had. You spoke in present tense. Does that mean you still find yourself unlucky?”

  I forced myself to swallow the sip of wine I’d just taken, the liquid going down painfully in my suddenly tight throat. On top of attractive, rich, and funny, it would appear that Grayson Lockhart was intuitive as well. “I don’t do relationships,” I answered, once I was able to work the uncomfortable knot from my throat. I tried my best to appear unaffected by the insightfulness of the question, but the truth was I’d suddenly gone from comfortably relaxed to on edge in a split second.

  “You don’t do relationships?”

  “That’s right.”

  His gaze grew curious and I could’ve sworn his lips twitched with a suppressed smile. “May I ask why?”

  I shrugged, staring longingly at the empty dessert plate before answering. “I just don’t believe in them.”

  “You don’t believe in them,” he repeated.

  “Yep.” I popped the P, growing frustrated at his repetition of my answers. “And can you please stop repeating everything I say like I’m some wackadoo?”

  He lost the grin he was fighting and full-on smiled, making my belly swoop pleasurably. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand how you don’t believe in relationships. I mean, you offer relationship advice as a profession.”

  I spun my wineglass by the stem as I thought on how to answer. “Well, all adults know Santa and the Easter Bunny aren’t real, right? But they still pretend for their kids. It’s kind of like that.”

  “Wait.” Grayson’s eyes grew huge with mock disbelief. “Santa and the Easter Bunny aren’t real? Sonofabitch!”

  “Shut up,” I giggled. “It’s a belief that’s been engrained in me from a young age, starting with my dysfunctional parents.”

  “So you learned by example, then.”

  “No, not necessarily. You know the phrase ‘Once bitten, twice shy’? Well, I’m pretty sure that phrase was coined for me. It wasn’t just my parents who turned me off relationships — believe me, I had my fair share of disasters on my own. And if I wasn’t living it, I was watching my friends be cheated on or taken advantage of. As time passed, I just decided it wasn’t worth it. I’m happy with how my life is. I don’t need a man in it to feel complete.”


  It was the very same argument I’d given a million times throughout my adult life. You couldn’t remain single in my particular profession without some explanation, after all. The more I spoke that scripted argument over time, the more I actually started to believe it until it just became a way of thinking. But for some reason, sitting across from Grayson Lockhart, speaking those familiar words just felt… underwhelming. I felt like a fraud, a feeling that was completely foreign to me.

  “I have no doubt that you can be complete without a man in your life, Lola. But don’t you ever get lonely?”

  I picked up my wineglass and took a long fortifying sip. “Nope.” And normally that was the truth. Usually I ended my days with a comfortable sense of contentment. I had a great job, great friends, a fabulous apartment. My life was amazing simply because I’d worked my ass off to make it so. But for some reason, Grayson’s sudden appearance had turned everything in my cozy little world on its head. Thanks to his question, that contentment I felt on a regular basis was replaced with something not at all pleasurable. Stupid men, always messing with stuff.

  “Well, what about the people you know who have been in healthy, loving relationships for years? Take my parents, for example. They’ve been happily married for almost forty years.”

  “There’s an exception to every rule,” I answered simply. “Your parents are the exception. I learned a long time ago that only a lucky few get to call themselves that. Most people are just the rule.”

  His penetrating gaze sent a shiver down my spine. I had the acute sense that he could read every lie I was telling, clear as day. Fortunately, he seemed to realize my growing unease at the current topic and took pity on me, changing the subject to such things as my friendships with Sophia and Daphne, and how I liked working with my best friends every day.

  The waiter finally brought the check, and I watched as Grayson pulled a credit card from his wallet and slipped it into the small black billfold. It was then that I noticed he had really nice hands. They were large with long fingers that looked like they could hold tight to my hips while—