Lola & the Millionaires: Part One

by Kathryn Moon

  Leo hummed and smiled, face tilted up to the sun’s rays as we walked the tiled city roads, little narrow paths through nestled buildings. “We can always come again with him,” Leo said. “Do you like it here?”

  The flight had been overnight with a blurry stop in London I barely recalled. We’d only been off the plane for a few hours, dropping our bags off at the hotel and arriving in Valletta just in time to catch the fish markets open. We’d stopped in a cafe for Turkish coffee and ‘hobz biz-zejt’—a delicious flatbread spread with roasted tomatoes, tuna, capers, and onion—and now we were on a search for cannoli.

  “I love it,” I said.

  Maybe it was jet lag, or maybe it was the exquisite lack of clouds in the sky or the fact that there was water the actual shade of aquamarine like something you’d see in a photograph, but I really meant the words. I wanted the whole pack here. It would be fun to see Wes unwind a little on a vacation, and I was sure Cyrus and Rake would be able to sniff out the best nightlife, or at least the best swimming holes. And Matthieu…

  Matthieu was just someone I wanted to be around. I felt steadier with him and more open; he made me feel transparent and strong at the same time, encouraging honesty with him and with myself. I wanted to be holding Leo’s hand on one side, and Matthieu’s on the other, grounded between them. I’d worried it would be awkward, balancing my time between the three men in the pack, but either it was naturally easy or the guys were making sure it felt that way for my sake.

  “What else are we doing aside from your business?” I asked, bumping my hip against his.

  “I booked us a wine tour on our way to the open house. Which is less about the house than it is about the land. And then if we can keep our eyes open after that’s done, there’s a great dinner reservation here in Valletta tonight too. Tomorrow we can be lazy until we have to check out?”

  I nodded and squeezed Leo’s hand in mine. I was tempted to ask if I could call off work on Monday or even Tuesday too, and see if we could stay a little longer. We were really only here for thirty-six hours, and that suddenly didn’t seem nearly long enough. But Leo had already covered the expense of putting Caleb’s—first class—ticket in my name. A whole new flight and more nights at the hotel was too big an ask.

  “Ah! Dezerta,” Leo said, pointing to a sign in a glass window. In front of the first-floor shop, two small tables with chairs sat waiting for customers. “I think we just found your cannoli.”

  Warm after our wine tour and day of sun, and cuddled into Leo’s side in the back of a small taxi, I watched the sea curving around the edge of the island.

  “Seeing this property at sunset seems strategic,” I mused.

  “Oh, definitely. There aren’t a lot of places in Malta that don’t have a good view of the sea, but I think this one adds some serious weight to their asking price,” Leo agreed.

  “And it’s the land, right? That you want to develop?”

  “It is, but it comes with an old salt farm and a homestead. That’s the tricky part of my job on this. The owners would prefer it be kept a private property, but they haven’t found a buyer willing to meet their ask because of how much property there is, so now they’re looking at commercial real estate possibilities,” Leo said. “My pitch is going to be a fairly small resort with the intention of keeping the salt farm intact. I’m hoping that’ll beat out some of the bigger offers.”

  I nodded along to his explanation. I was mostly in it for the wine tour and five-star hotel room I’d gotten a peek of earlier. Plus this time with just me and Leo.

  “I’m glad you asked me to come,” I said.

  Leo turned and caught my eye, dimples winking in his cheeks. “Aw, look at you. You’re a little wine buzzed, aren’t you? I’m thrilled you agreed to come with me. I haven’t missed you, but I’ve missed…” His brow furrowed so I finished for him.

  “Us,” I said, nodding.

  “Mm, yeah. Just us,” Leo said smiling. “Don’t get me wrong. The more tangled up you are with our pack, the happier I am.”

  “I get it. Things to do feel simpler today,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “Do they? Are things complicated with you and Matthieu?”

  “Shouldn’t they be? He’s twice my age. He’s my boss. Like Boss boss. He just broke up with someone he was with for years. I’m seeing his packmates, but it’s not like with you and Rake where we can all just curl up in bed together, right? And how long is it going to take before this whole ‘poor little damaged beta girl’ thing wears off, and you all just get tired of me?”

  Leo startled as my word vomit ran to a close. Thank god our cab driver had barely any English under his belt. Leo’s hands reached for my shoulders and he pulled me upright, head ducking so we were eye to eye.

  “You’re worried about all of that?” he asked softly.

  “Tip of the iceberg,” I said with a single nod.

  Leo’s lips twitched, and I huffed a nervous laugh out.

  “All right, I’m just gonna cover one thing for now, and we’ll get to the rest later, okay? Your trauma is neither part of your appeal, nor is it a detriment to our feelings for you. End of story.” Leo’s eyes held mine for every word, hands rubbing my shoulders slowly, working away a tightness I hadn’t noticed on my own.

  “Okay,” I said, nodding lightly.

  “Okay. Good. And you never know about the dynamics thing. I’m sure if you crooked your finger, Matthieu would jump in the bed, regardless of who else was sharing it,” Leo said, shrugging and pulling me back into his side. “Also, don’t worry about the boss thing, he’s too far up the food chain at the magazine. Or Carolyn. That was a dead weight relationship they were carrying.”

  “So just don’t worry?” I said, smiling.

  Leo kissed the top of my head firmly. “Exactly. Hey, I think this is it.”

  I sat up, leaning over Leo’s lap to watch the house come into view. “Oh, it’s so sweet!”

  The home was on a low cliff overlooking a long stone bench of salt pans—shallow man-made puddles of salt water shimmered in the carved stone, reflecting the sunset like panes of stained glass. The house itself was built in stone brick and mortar, the same tan stone like the buildings in Valletta. It was humble and squat, with dusty pink shutters, and it looked out of place on its own property, surrounded by sports cars and men and women in business attire.

  “Will the owners be here?” I asked, as our driver stopped next to a bright red, compact sports car.

  “I think it’s just the agent tonight, which is good considering that commercial real estate fighting over land like this can be a swarm of vultures. Go ahead and wander, and I’ll manage the handshaking?”

  I slipped out of the car, following Leo to the mass of suits before splitting off on my own. There was a set of well-maintained stairs carved down the cliffside that led to the salt pans, and I followed it down, holding onto the rope handle. Malta was cool in early spring, especially at night, and I had grabbed one of Leo’s sweaters to wear over my sundress, but I enjoyed the salty bite of chill that licked at my legs from the sea.

  I was halfway down the steps when I saw the couple by the cliffside, and paused on my way down. They were older, and mostly shadows against the sunset, but the man propped himself up with one hand on a cane, his other arm wrapped around the woman’s shoulders. They stood together, balancing on the grooves of the salt pans and watching the sun paint the water red. They definitely weren’t part of the suit party up by the house, and I guessed from Leo’s description they might’ve been the owners. Seeing them together like this, a wave of melancholy washed over me. They were selling their home. It looked as though they were savoring a sunset like this one for as long as they could.

  The man turned slightly, and spotting me, bent his head to his wife, who waved me down the stairs. I was more interested in the view here than the negotiations Leo was in the middle of, so I finished my way down the steps, meeting the couple at the bottom.

  “E
low,” they greeted with a dip of their heads.

  “Hello,” I answered with a smile and a nod.

  And then, impossibly, the woman took my arm and started off in a steady and incomprehensible stream of Maltese, accompanied by thorough gesturing to explain the salt farming process. I followed her tugs on my arm with confused laughter, letting her lead me through the shallow pools of the pans, to where the sea came in toward the shore.

  I didn’t understand a word she said, but I could guess the process somewhere between the motions of her hands. They brought the seawater up from the grooves in the stone near the shore, let it bake in the pans under the sun, rotating the regions of the stone bench to keep track of how long it had been. She scooped a handful of salt in soft, gnarled hands, and then captured my hand again and forced the large granules into my palm.

  “Tiekol,” she said, pushing my hand up toward my lips, leathery tan cheeks grinning at me.

  I popped a morsel in my mouth, sharp and tangy and immediately making me salivate. I hummed, and she laughed and nodded, pulling me back to the stairs where her husband was perched on low steps.

  I followed the couple on their slow journey back up the cliff, watching the sun sink until the steps were just visible as we reached the top. Most of the cars were already gone now, and Leo stood by the picturesque little house with a handful of others. His gaze immediately landed on me, his professionally smooth expression cracking under a grin. He made a quick escape from the group and joined me with the elderly couple.

  “You made friends,” Leo said.

  “I think these are the owners,” I explained as they offered him a more cautious greeting than the one I’d received.

  “Grech?” Leo asked, beaming at the man’s nod. “Leo Santoro.”

  “Look, I’ve farmed salt now,” I said, holding my hand in front of Leo.

  “Oh, good, I’m starving.” Leo popped a quick pinch of the salt into his mouth and just like that, hearts were won over as he hummed with pleasure.

  A tall black man in loose linen pants joined us. “Leo, you’ve met the Grechs.”

  Mrs. Grech made a quick announcement which made the new man laugh. “She likes your woman, Santoro. And your taste buds.” Leo grinned at me as the real estate agent waited while Mr. Grech added to his wife’s statement. “Ah. Marcellino says that now that the vultures have left, you’re both very welcome to stay for dinner. He’s a good cook and I’m a decent translator, so I’d recommend saying yes.”

  Leo took one look at me as I bounced on the balls of my feet and nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Il-lejl it-tajjeb!” I said, bending to accept the kiss on both cheeks from each of the Grech’s as Leo shook the hand of David, their real estate agent slash old family friend.

  “Il-lejl it-tajjeb,” they echoed. ‘Good night.’

  I wasn’t going to hold onto much of my new Maltese I’d learned over salted smoked fish, rabbit stew, and more warm fresh bread smeared with roasted veggies, but I liked the pretty rolling sound of the language. I blinked away tears as I stepped back, and Leo took my place, hugging the elderly couple.

  I loved this sweet little house, so close and warm, everything centered around the kitchen and the small dining room table. And I loved this welcoming old couple who hated to give up their salt farm and have their home torn down to make room for another fancy hotel for tourists.

  “Come on, I’ll give you two a ride back to Valletta,” David said, ushering us out the door and to his tiny four-door sedan. It was modest compared to what the visitors tonight had arrived in, and David scrambled to move kids’ sports gear out of the way of the back seat for me.

  “You didn’t mind wasting the reservation?” I asked Leo as we got into the car.

  “Are you kidding? Did you see me undo my belt after the stew?” Leo asked, laughing. “Home cooking like that can’t be beat.”

  I leaned forward from the back seat to kiss his cheek as David slid into the driver’s seat on the right.

  “Well, Santoro. You’re family now. You could put a Hilton on this property, and they’d probably only downgrade you to cousin instead of adopted son,” David said, pulling away.

  I waved out the back window to the small couple under the tiny front light over the door. “That would be a horrible waste. I don’t blame them for wanting to keep this place private. It seems like a shame to bulldoze it just for a hotel.”

  “Mm, the house needs work,” David allowed.

  “It could be renovated. The bones could be kept,” Leo said to him.

  David’s eyebrows bounced. “Are you getting sentimental? Aren’t you here for the sake of a resort?”

  “I’m here for the potential of the property,” Leo said carefully.

  I slipped my arms over Leo’s shoulders, scooting forward so I could rest my chin on Leo’s shoulder. “It should be a home.”

  “If it were owned privately, I know there are other salt farmers on the island that might add the pans to their roster,” David said, smile growing sly.

  “This seems like a setup,” Leo muttered, turning to butt his forehead against my temple. “Did that adorable elderly couple put you up to this?”

  “You mean Mama and Papa Grech?” I asked, grinning. “I’m sure they would’ve if I’d picked up the language faster. Maybe your firm can think of a better use for the place than just a hoity-toity resort?”

  “Hmm, maybe.” Leo kissed my cheek and I sank back, mildly victorious and leaning to the window to watch the stars go by.

  I woke up the next morning to a warm breeze coming in from our vast hotel balcony and the slight chink of china as Leo set a cup of coffee down on the nightstand. He climbed over me, bundling me into his arms, the sheets rumpled and barely covering my breasts.

  “I arranged us a late check-out, so we have plenty of time,” Leo said, kissing the shell of my ear.

  I shivered and nodded. “Thas’ nice.”

  “There’s…there’s something I want to talk to you about while it’s just us,” he added.

  I stiffened in his arms and Leo kissed the corner of my jaw. That sounded like serious talk, and yesterday had been so…so easy. Like I was able to be myself, totally forgetting about everything that came before, free of all the drama and the memories.

  “It’s not bad, gorgeous,” Leo said, kissing the same spot again. “I just wanted to say something before someone else did, I guess.”

  I wiggled and he loosened his hold, letting me roll to face him. “Still ominous, Leo.”

  “Right. Sorry,” he said, grimacing. “Okay, so…Lola, I think you need to reconcile yourself to the idea that…”

  I held my breath and forced myself to keep my eyes on him and not cry.

  Leo sighed and finished, a soft smile curling on his lips. “The idea that the pack is going to want you to stay. To be one of us.”

  A bird called from the hotel courtyard, and a woman laughed down in the pool. A breeze kissed my back while I waited for Leo’s words to sort themselves out in my head.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m talking about you being a part of the pack, Lola.”

  I scooted backward and leaned over the side of the bed, reaching for my nightshirt. This kind of conversation warranted clothes.

  “Leo, that’s so…why would I—” I wrestled into the shirt and then flipped my hair off my face, finding Leo sitting up cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

  He reached for my hand, and I could tell he was fighting laughter now. “Lola, Rake adores you. I’ve never seen Matthieu so happy in all the time I’ve been with the pack, and I… Lola, gorgeous, I love you.”

  Oh, thank god.

  “Hey, there’s that smile I’ve been waiting for,” Leo said, grinning.

  It faltered almost immediately, and Leo frowned in answer. “This can’t work,” I whispered, throat squeezing and eyes stinging.

  “Lola,” Leo said slowly, cautioning me. “I know that ugliness in your head that says th
is can’t be for you, but please, just give yourself a chance to believe in it a little bit.”

  “What happens when Matthieu doesn’t want me anymore?” I ask, dread coiling like a viper in my gut.

  “You don’t know that’s what will happen. Even then, it’s not gonna change how I feel. Or how Rake feels,” Leo said.

  “That’s Rake’s alpha. Or what if it’s Rake who loses interest? Leo, your pack doesn’t need me.”

  “Lola, you were there for Rake’s heat. That’s not for outsiders, that’s not how packs work, not even ours. His needing you there was as good as a declaration. And the way Caleb and Cyrus responded was just further proof.” Leo held up a hand to stop my next refusal. “Okay, listen. This is what I mean. I need you to give yourself a little hope on this idea, gorgeous. I know you’re trying to protect yourself. I’ve been there, believe me. But this can’t happen if you won’t let it.”

  I sighed and drew my knees up under the blanket, folding myself into a tight ball and lowering my head, trying to listen to his words. Except just one part kept ringing over and over in my head.

  Fuck.

  I looked up and saw the lines of stress digging into Leo’s forehead, the frustration pressing his lips together, and the worry in his gaze. That was my fault, and I’d jumped into the conversation at entirely the wrong angle.

  “I love you too,” I said.

  Leo’s high shoulders sagged and just like that, so easy, Leo was beaming again. I squeezed his hand that waited for me on the bed, and he tugged on it, drawing me into his lap.

  I kissed his chin and then softly against his lips, a little bit of a coffee flavor in his answering sigh. “Sorry. That was the important bit, wasn’t it?”

  “Mhm, this is more of the reception I was looking for,” he murmured, resting his temple against mine and wrapping his arms tight around me. “I never really talked to you about Odette, did I? To be honest, after hearing everything with Buzz and Indy, it just didn’t seem right to compare.”