Lola & the Millionaires: Part One

by Kathryn Moon

  The doors parted and I stepped out, breathing deeply for the first time in minutes. I was alone in the beautiful hall, the heels of my shoes echoing against the marble floor. I turned and watched the elevator doors shut behind me, finally able to admire the incredible Art Deco scrollwork engraved in the polished gold.

  I was here. I was at Designate, and I was an assistant beauty editor on her first day.

  The hall was a soft shade of periwinkle with faux pillar molding accented in cream and gold. Every detail—from the intricate floor tiles grouted in brassy gold, to the swirling crown molding—was pure decadence. Ahead of me, beautiful cherry wood doors with crystal glass panes waited to be parted. One of the elevators ahead of me chimed, and I started forward before I was caught ogling.

  And then my feet stalled, the heavy whiffs of sensual masculinity and bright startling champagne filtering out of the elevator. Alphas, two of them, stepped out together, and shock froze me in place. It’d been a long time since I was in close quarters with an alpha, but that wasn’t even the only reason I was so startled.

  The first of the pair, tall with silver streaks running back from his temples through dark brown hair and crows feet at the corner of his eyes, was Matthieu Segal. The Matthieu Segal, CEO of the global media company Voir. Voir owned Designate along with a half dozen other major magazines and outlets, and this was the man in charge of all of them. Next to him, dressed in a dapper velvet jacket and wearing shoes that had a trim of gold along the sole, was the exquisitely handsome and polished Cyrus Cohen. Also known as my immediate boss, the Head Beauty Editor of Designate.

  Cyrus’ head twitched in my direction, sunlight glowing on the deep brown of his skin, and I had the urge to dive and hide, but it was too late. He spun to face me, and I tried to force the terrified expression I was no doubt wearing off my face. His eyes narrowed as he took me in, and Matthieu Segal slowed and turned on black polished shoes, staring at me over the high collar of his tan wool coat.

  Look at her like this, it’s pathetic really.

  I shivered, shaking old voices out of my head. I tried to force my steps forward, even as every muscle in my body clenched, desperate to run away.

  Matthieu Segal took one step back as I managed one struggling step forward, and Cyrus’s narrow stare suddenly broke into a shining smile.

  “You’re my new hire aren’t you?” he asked, eyes brightening. He glanced at Matthieu. “Told you I needed to be early today.”

  I forced the barbed wire in my throat down and dipped my head once. “Lola.”

  “I’m Cyrus, you’re in my department.” He stepped forward, and my whole body gave a brief flinch until Matthieu’s hand landed on his shoulder and held him in place.

  “You’re David’s cousin,” Matthieu said, mild voice low and hinting at a French accent smoothed by a long stay in the States. “Welcome to Designate.”

  “Let me show you around,” Cyrus said, taking the cue from Matthieu’s restraining hand and stepping back to offer me space to walk past them both to the office doors.

  I took one steadying breath and forced my feet to move, nearing them both as Matthieu backed up and made more room for me.

  “Enjoy your day,” he said, gray-blue eyes watching me briefly before turning and jerking his head to Cyrus, encouraging him to walk ahead of me.

  What had David told them? He couldn’t have said more than he’d known—that I’d gotten myself mixed up with cruel alphas, and afterward had barely been able to bring myself to leave David’s apartment for months. But David had promised not to say anything on the topic at all, so maybe Matthieu Segal was just good at reading body language, or maybe I was projecting terror more obviously than I realized.

  “You’re coming in while we’re in the middle of a few projects, which might feel chaotic at first, but I think it’ll give you a good picture of the way we work. I saw your video series and I’m excited to have you at the table for our planning sessions,” Cyrus said, walking almost sideways toward the office doors.

  His excitement was palpable, matching his tipsy scent and contrasting strongly against Matthieu’s more subdued and grounded presence.

  “I’ve been a subscriber of the magazine for as long as I can remember,” I said, pushing the muscles of my own face into some semblance of a smile. Both alphas pushed a door open, and I focused on the receptionist at her clean cream desk with the lush bouquets on each corner, rather than their imposing and potent energies on either side of me. “I’m looking forward to being a part of the process.”

  “Mr. Segal, Ben is upstairs, ready for you. Good morning, Mr. Cohen,” the receptionist greeted, a beautiful, young beta with a blue-black bob cut and electric pink lipstick that paired nicely with her pale skin.

  “Morning, Daze. This is Lola, my new beauty assistant. Will you get her set up and then bring her over to my wing?” Cyrus asked. I stiffened as my coat shifted, Cyrus’ hand landing at the base of my back for a soft beat. “I’ll see you in a bit, Lola.”

  Daze, which was probably some kind of nickname but suited the preternaturally pristine woman, rounded the desk with a beaming smile.

  “Let me take your coat, and I’ll give you the tour,” Daze said.

  Cyrus was equally as exuberant as I reached the beauty department’s long row of offices, but this time his energy was absorbed by the three other editorial assistants in the room with me. Designate’s beauty-halla, as one of the other assistant editors called it, was the kind of spectacularly compartmentalized, stunningly organized, thoroughly stocked makeup inventory my dreams were made of.

  I was trying to follow the line of conversation at the large conference table littered with highlighters and blushes and mascaras and lipsticks and palettes for days. Except my eyes kept drifting to other corners of the room. The canisters of brushes. The fridge of face masks. The turning mirrors with varying levels of magnification.

  “It’s like going to the toy store when you were a kid, isn’t it?” one of my new coworkers asked. Betty, I reminded myself, a redhead I was mentally referring to as ‘queen of blending’ due to her impeccable contouring and perfect smoky eye. She looked a bit like she was waiting for someone to turn a camera in her direction, rather than the person who was planning the photoshoots, but a year and a half ago and I would’ve been the same if I’d worked here.

  “I want to be everywhere at once,” I said under my breath. “There are some brands here I’ve never even seen in person before.” And certainly never tried, given how pricey they were.

  Betty nodded and grinned gleefully. “And we’re the lucky bitches who get to sample it.”

  “I thought Designate was aiming younger,” I mentioned. “Can our audience really afford Rubenesque?”

  Betty’s grin faded to a frown, her brow tangling at me, but Cyrus answered me from the other end of the table.

  “Probably not. You’re right. It’s one of the issues we’re struggling with lately. Now that we’re cruelty-free, our options are narrowed. We don’t get Rubenesque’s advertising money if we stop featuring their products, but telling our subscribers that the best powder foundation is sixty bucks a pop isn’t winning us a lot of popularity from the leading indie beauty influencers.”

  “Designate is about high-end beauty,” Zane, our only other male at the table, answered with a roll of his eyes. “High-end is high prices.”

  Cyrus’ lips twitched at me, and one of his shoulders shrugged softly. He had perfect bone structure and a clean-shaven head, and his skin shone just enough to hint at a bit of product, the gloss offset by the faint shadow of a beard over his jaw. His eyes were slanted, almost catlike, eternally teasing, and the table was quiet before I realized our stares were locked together, the pair of us smiling.

  Knock it off, idiot, I hissed at myself, jerking in my chair and looking down at the layout on the table, a mock-up of “Products to ‘Zest’ Up Your Routine” with a theme of citrus names to the colors.

  “Do you always do this segment on
a white background?” I asked, tapping the mock-up. I knew perfectly well they did, and it’d been a major pet peeve of mine. The hissing voice at the back of my head told me to keep my mouth shut, but for once, I stifled it easily.

  “It’s the only way to see the colors accurately,” Betty said, a little drone in her voice. Apparently, I hadn’t impressed her by questioning Rubenesque.

  “To see them against white,” I said, shrugging. “But a lot of these products are sheer and they’re going to interact differently on everyone.”

  Cyrus’ lips pursed and he spun the mock-up to face him. “We’ve done photoshoots before on skin tone differentiation in looks.”

  “What if it’s not on a model though?” I asked, sitting up. “What if you just split the mock-up into like…four, maybe six quadrants and show it that way.” I spun my stool and jumped up, quickly crossing to the foundations and grabbing up a handful. “If you match the sections to Lissie’s magic bases that claim to blend so well, then you can add even more product to the feature.”

  “Going solely Lissie might piss some of our companies off, but we could follow that general premise,” Zane said, looking to Cyrus who was watching me with a heavy stare. “Grab the best foundations for each tone range.”

  I focused on the others, relieved to see no one resented my sudden interruption in the planned mock-up. This was it. This was why I wanted this job. I had been a subscriber for years and for at least half that time, I’d had ideas I wanted to share.

  “Okay, so we present this to Wendy on Thursday. Get those colors set up stat,” Cyrus said, pushing up from his stool. “Zane, you, Lola, and Betty sort out the colors. Keep it simple, try and duplicate across the different shades, make the products as versatile as possible. Corey, Anna, keep on their asses and start planning your new copy. Keep the ‘zest’ in theme… Oh, and note Lola on the sheerness, that kind of thing. If it looks good, we can make ourselves a new regular layout.”

  He headed for the door without another look, and Betty clucked her teeth and offered me a reluctant but genuine smile. “Not bad, newbie.”

  Three

  Lola

  The next day, I finished a soft brush stroke on the thin plexiglass layer covering our warm mid-tone, implying plush lips. It had been a last-minute suggestion of mine before we made our new product-feature mock-up to add a face, and I’d had to demonstrate with a thin black acrylic before anyone really took me seriously.

  “Admit it,” I said, smiling at Zane. “You thought I was gonna draw the equivalent of an emoji.”

  Zane snorted, shaking his head and then whipping his long, surfer-blond hair back over his shoulder, folding his arms over his narrow chest. “Just be glad you’re earning your keep,” he said. “For about a week, Cyrus thought the magazine would just go ahead and cut your position. Wendy still thinks we’re over-staffed.”

  “Wendy thinks the magazine’s dried up in general,” Betty mumbled from my other side, and Zane hissed at her.

  My eyes widened, and I stepped back, letting them step in and make their careful strokes of color and product. “She’s the Editor-in-Chief.”

  “She loves Designate,” Zane assured me over his shoulder as he twisted a brief smear of vivid, blood-orange lip gloss above my implied pout and then rested the bottle and brush artfully alongside. “The magazine’s just had a lot of tension since Segal was hired for Voir.”

  “Like the cruelty-free change?” I asked.

  “No, that was Wendy,” Betty said, and I nodded, but neither of them offered to elaborate.

  “Okay, I think that actually looks very compelling,” Zane said, voice prim. “I’ll take the shot. Are you guys getting lunch in the canteen?”

  “I’m meeting up with a friend.”

  Betty hummed. “You go on ahead then, Lola. I’ll make sure Zane here eats his green vegetables.”

  Zane snorted, going to pick up the nice camera and positioning it over our work. I got the distinct impression I was being shooed out of the room so they could continue whatever gossip they’d hinted at in front of me. Which was fine. I had a feeling I’d probably hear all of it before long anyway, and I was more interested in seeing Baby.

  I grabbed my coat from Daze—short for Daisy, and probably a better fit for the somewhat spacey but charming receptionist—and headed down to the lobby. Aside from Cyrus, and the brief run-in with Matthieu the day before, I hadn’t been in contact with other alphas in the building. And while Cyrus might have had the heavy scent of an alpha, he seemed relatively laid back and from what I could tell, only dealt with us in the group setting. I could live with that. I was determined to.

  Baby was bouncing on the balls of her feet in the lobby when I got downstairs, dressed in shredded jeans and an oversized t-shirt that I knew probably reeked of one of her alphas. At her side was the handsome beta, Seth, or ‘Bomber’ to match the cut of the leather jacket he was wearing. They stood out sharply against all the wool and black and suits of the Stanmore, but they were both so good looking you could almost believe they were models on their way up to Designate for a photoshoot—pre-hair and makeup and wardrobe.

  Baby held her hands out for me as I exited the turnstiles from the elevators, knowing I wouldn’t be comfortable enough for a hug in this crowd. I gripped her outstretched hands in a soft, quick squeeze, and then tucked my hands into my coat, glancing over to smile at Seth to avoid seeing Baby’s slight fall in her smile.

  “You look so cool and professional right now,” Baby said, grinning. “Do you like it? Is it fun? Do you like…is it just like going to the makeup counter together?”

  I laughed, remembering the days of going to the department store makeup counters to get our faces done before we went out for the night, back when we didn’t have the money to buy all of our products. “Um… It definitely could be,” I said. “But mostly it’s a lot of proofreading each other and playing around digitally editing our mock-ups. Where do you wanna get lunch?”

  “Okay, so I know I said fancy, but—”

  “But we love our greasy dives,” I said, nodding, and Baby beamed at me.

  “There’s this sort of retro, semi-hidden soda shop nearby with cheese fries that have perfected the ratio of spud to dairy.”

  “Sign me up! Are you playing bodyguard?” I asked Seth.

  “Long as you don’t mind,” he said, grinning. And I was pretty sure he meant it too, but I wondered what his alphas would have to say if they found he left Baby unchaperoned in the city.

  “‘Course not. Lead the way,” I said.

  “I’m just really proud of you,” Baby said softly, her shoulder brushing against mine.

  My stomach was overfull, and it turned dangerously at the innocent contact. Seth was strolling down the sidewalk behind us on our way back to the Stanmore, and Baby was close to my side. I could practically feel her vibrating with the desire to lean in, and a small part of me was just as needy for the touch. I was hardly ever comfortable enough to be touched casually now, and the strange habit of hook-ups on the weekend didn’t sate my secret craving for a decent cuddle.

  “Thank you,” I said, glancing at her and smiling, feeling the weight of her stare, her study.

  “Not just about the job,” she said.

  I nodded. “I know, babe.”

  “If you’re ever up for it, you could come to the Plaza,” Baby said, taking my hand as I stiffened, my eyes fixed to the golden doors of the Stanmore. “Super mellow night. Pack only, I promise.”

  “You’re always welcome, and our crew knows how to behave themselves,” Seth offered, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. It was not happening. Not any time soon, at least. It wasn’t just that it was a pack of alphas. The Howlers…they knew too much about me, about…

  Buzz and Indy.

  I disguised my shiver of disgust by pulling my hands from Baby’s and rubbing them together in the cold. We’d finally made it back to the Stanmore, and as much fun as it
had been to pig out with Baby—she still made me snort with laughter, still was one of the easiest people to talk to about nothing and everything—I was ready to escape the soft cloud of her perfume, and the way heads turned as we walked together to stare at us, trying to pick out who was the precious omega.

  “Gonna get back in there,” I said, offering her a smile and bracing myself for what I knew was coming.

  Baby teetered, brilliant green eyes wide and hopeful, but she held herself back until I nodded. Then her arms were around my neck, my face full of her sugary and floral-scented hair. My throat was strangled, but I passed my hands over her back in a semblance of a hug as she squeezed me tight.

  “I love you so much, Lo.”

  “I love you a shit ton, babe,” I said, making her laugh and release me.

  Seth was waiting, gaze warm and fond on Baby, but he spared me a quick, crooked grin before he drew her into his side like he’d clearly been waiting to do the whole time we were together. I wondered if he got very much time with her aside from when their alphas weren’t around. Was he always on the fringes, waiting for scraps of affection like the rest of us betas? I waved goodbye and headed upstairs to Designate, heading directly for the workroom to see if the others had put the mock-up together while I was on lunch.

  Instead of finding the others, I found Cyrus alone in the room, hands braced on the worktable, pages spread out under his focus. I tried to back out the door, but he was already looking up, eyes curling up in the corners with warmth and lips stretching in a smile.

  “Lola! Come here,” he said, waving me closer and looking back down at the new mockups.

  I hesitated, but what kind of excuse could I give him for refusing? I crossed to the table, deciding it was safe to face him with that space between us. Better than moving to his side. He looked up, a slight line digging between his brows as he realized where I was, but it passed and he spun the pages for me to look.