Restrained (Sterling Family #3)

2. Lola

2

LOLA

I ’m late. I despise being late, but my talk with Vivienne this morning put me a bit behind, and then the traffic this morning was brutal.

It’s hot today as I climb from behind the wheel of my sleek black car. The sun beats down on my bare shoulders, the thin strap of my black top not covering them much. I smooth down my tight, white skirt and slide my black sunglasses up from my eyes to rest on top of my head, grabbing my black purse and swinging it over my shoulder. My black heels click on the pavement as I lock my car and yank open the front door to the coffee shop.

Apparently, Mr. West doesn’t have an actual office. Not very promising.

I wish Penelope was here. I prefer to meet new clients together, but she has a separate meeting this morning. Another reason I'm glad Vivienne is here—she plans to start working with us at our interior design business.

I look around the crowded café, unsure how I'm supposed to know who I'm meeting considering he’s a new client. I decide to put in my coffee order, and as soon as I'm finished paying, I see a shadow approaching out of the corner of my eye and turn to face the figure.

I nearly gasp as the man’s masculine, clean scent overwhelms me at the same time his brooding, good looks nearly steals the air from my lungs. His dark hair is styled perfectly, not one hair out of place. His jawline is all sharp angles, his dark eyes are intense and his lips form a disappointed line. He is, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He’s wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath and a tie. His shoes shine, not a speck of dirt on them. I notice his suit barely fits his large, overwhelming frame as he towers over me, and I can’t stop staring at him like a mindless idiot.

“Lola,” he says my name in a deep, stern tone as if he already knows me.

“Mr. West?”

“Hayden.”

I nod stupidly, awe struck by his brutish beauty. I curve an arm around my waist nervously, feeling underdressed even in a skirt and camisole. “Right.” I hold out my right hand, trying to steady it as my other arm remains around my waist. “Lola Sterling.”

He doesn’t shake my hand. He seems annoyed as his eyes slowly scan my body, and I really wish I’d opted to wear a blazer, but it’s June in California, for Christ’s sake, and we’re meeting for coffee. “You’re late.”

“I apologize. Traffic was rough this morning.” I try my best to remain professional and add a smile, not too toothy but enough to show my regret for making him wait.

“You’ve lived here for how long?”

I quirk an eyebrow as I study him, wondering where he’s going with this. His question is not friendly, causing me to answer cautiously. “Around three years.”

“So, you are aware of the traffic at this time of day.”

It’s not a question, and I can’t believe his bluntness. “I am.”

He sneers, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “And I was told you had a partner.”

The barista hands me my coffee. I thank her, dropping my hand from around my stomach to hold my cup, facing the gorgeous, infuriating dick in front of me. I’ve been around men like him my entire life.

Rich. Entitled. Spoiled. He’s no doubt had everything handed to him his entire life and expects everyone to kneel before him.

He has no idea who he’s messing with.

“Penelope had a prior engagement, but I'm more than capable of sitting down with you to decide if we can help you out.”

His eyes flicker with frustration as he blows out an annoyed breath. “Fine.” He gestures for me to take a seat, and although I'm irritated, I’m not in the position to be turning down any opportunities at the moment.

I move through the tables and find one in the back, taking a seat. I place my bag on the side of the chair as the handsome and insanely rude stranger unbuttons two buttons on his jacket and takes a seat in front of me.

“So, Mr. West. What kind of service are you looking for? Will it be your home or your office we will be assisting you with?”

“Neither.”

Of course, he’ll be difficult. “Alright, so what can we help you with?”

“I own several hotels and have recently acquired three more. I’m looking for a decorator who’s efficient and can breathe fresh air into them.”

“Hotels?” I lift a curious eyebrow. “I’m not sure we can do that.”

“Why not? You’re an interior decorator. I need the interior of my hotels to be laid out in a new, stylish way that will attract the elite.”

“And your other hotels?”

“Are typical. Nice. Luxurious but not exactly what I’m thinking for these three. They’ll be something different.”

My tongue darts out to wet my dry lips, and I watch his eyes track the movement as I clear my throat, his heated gaze making me flush. “What will make these different?”

He straightens his back in the chair, his chin lifted and his eyes locked on mine. “You.”

His intensity makes it hard for me to breathe, and I remind myself to be professional. He’s a prick. That much is apparent, but there’s also an attraction crackling in the air between us, one I'm not used to. One that feels dangerous. I swallow, trying to fight how dry my throat has become. “And how can I do that? I’ve never worked for a hotel chain before.”

“It’s not a chain, first of all.” His hand lays flat on the table between our bodies, and I find myself doing a once-over of his large hand with trimmed fingernails and tanned skin. Absolutely perfect like the rest of him except for one pink scar running diagonally from his thumb to his pinkie. “Second of all...” My eyes move back to his face which I would expect to be clean-shaven to match the rest of him, but he has fine stubble covering his cheeks and chin only adding to his appeal. “The hotels only have fifty rooms each. I intend for them to be the epitome of luxury.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. When he said elite, he really meant it. Only those with high means will be staying there. More benefits to the rich. “Luxury.”

He looks devious and hasn’t lost the air of annoyance as he quips, “Yes. I’m sure the Lola Sterling will have no problem with luxury.”

The way he says my name sends a shiver through me. Do I know him? “Did you Google me or something?”

His head tilts to the right as if I'm a child, and then he shakes his head, not bothering to answer my question. “There will be a spa, a restaurant, and a theater. The rooms are massive, and I want them to smell like money but not be snooty and uncomfortable.”

How could they not? “Got it. Luxurious. Home away from their already ostentatious homes.”

“Better. I want them to envy the hotel. Crave it. ”

I swallow tightly, seeing the passion in his eyes while he talks about this project. “Crave a hotel?”

“Yes.” The determination in his eyes makes me squirm a little in my seat as I raise the coffee to my lips and take a sip. His eyes watch my movements intently. “If you don’t think you can handle it...”

“My partner and I are the best of the best.”

“So I’ve heard, but word of mouth can be bought like everything else.”

Rich prick. Just like everyone I've known. I have to believe that some things can’t be purchased, but everything I've seen over the years has proved him right and me wrong.

“I’ll have to talk to Penelope about it, but I’ll let you know.”

“Walk with me to my car.” My eyes widen, and I don’t move as he stands, looking at me like a petulant child not worth his time. “I have the contract there.”

I stand reluctantly. “Most clients invite us to their office for the first meeting.”

“I don’t let strangers in my home.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “Your office is in your home? You don’t even have a separate office, and yet, you’re looking down your nose at me.”

What is his game? Is it all for show? His suit and overall appearance scream money, but there’s something in his eyes. Something that portrays so much more. Something that seems slightly off, lacking the pedigree and staunch boredom I’ve become accustomed to around prep schoolboys, groomed to become country club men. His body creeps near my own, forcing the hair on my arms to stand on high alert as goosebumps prickle over my skin from his close contact. “I happen to like my home. I’ve worked hard for it. And you’ll sign the contract, Lola.”

His stern tone and domineering presence does nothing to alleviate the goosebumps on my arms. “And how can you be so certain?”

“Because you need this deal.” His full lips are mesmerizing as he stands so near. “I imagine your trust fund would seem like a whole hell of a lot to most people, but starting a business in California? Buying a house right on the beach? A brand new Bently?” His tongue flicks with furious precision. How does he know all that? “You have to be running on fumes at this point, living on debt and your father’s last name.”

I nearly gulp, hating how accurate he is. “We’ve been successful.”

“And yet . . . you need this.”

I hate him. How it’s possible when we’ve just met, I'm not sure, but I hate this asshole. “I don’t bow down to anyone, no matter how dire the circumstance.”

His eyes flick to mine and then down to my knees. “You’ll kneel at my feet and thank God I came to you for this project when you see the contract, Lola.” His fingers button his suit jacket with expert movement as he straightens his shoulders and turns toward the entrance, expecting me to follow.

Everything in me screams not to do it.

His confidence in the fact that I will do whatever he says sickeningly reminds me of my father and his arrogance when he told me I’d never be anything without him.

Don’t do it, Lola.

I grab my coffee and follow him in a huff out to his black Mercedes as he opens the passenger door, pulling out a stack of papers and handing it to me. “Go over it with your partner and both of you meet me at the address on the contract tomorrow at five. Do not be late.”

His demands make me want to scream and tell him to shove the contract up what I'm sure is a very firm, sculpted ass.

But I can’t.

“I’m assuming that’s your office?” He nods, not wasting any words on me. “I thought you didn’t allow strangers into your home?”

He closes his car door, his lips curling into a smirk. “We’re not strangers anymore.” His voice is gruff, thick with a sinister promise that makes me shiver despite the intense heat outside. “We’ll be working together as long as you don’t disappoint me.”

I hate you.

I look into his eyes wanting again to tell him to shove it.

But he’s right. I look down at the contract, trying to slow my breathing and not show any shock at the massive number he’s offering for our services.

Our business desperately needs this, and there’s no way I can deny him.