2. Aiden
AIDEN
The last thing Aiden wanted was to sit at this table with his ex. The coffee was abysmal, and the Vegas lights were a migraine waiting to happen, the pounding in his head only getting worse.
He should have known Jorge Salas would tell his daughter about their meeting in Vegas. He just hadn’t expected her to show up uninvited—especially when her presence had already complicated Camden Enterprises’ negotiations with Ipolymer.
Nothing had been kosher in his business relationship with Salas Group since the moment he’d made the mistake of sleeping with Lola Salas.
That had been playing with fire. His older brother Quinn had warned him, but he hadn’t listened because Lola was beautiful, polished, and knew exactly how to handle herself at any function.
A power couple , people said. He’d never liked the term—too American, too optimistic. She, the daughter of a powerful international investment banker. Him, the CEO of Camden Enterprises, a top defense contractor in the UK, with major dealings in the United States.
Everyone thought they were perfect for each other.
But three months into dating, Lola had started ring shopping.
Three months.
Maybe it shouldn’t have rattled him. But it had. He hadn’t nearly been thinking “marriage is the next step”—they’d never even talked about it. Or said I love you. He’d never been in a relationship for three months, even. Ever.
In every relationship he’d been in—including the one with Lola—something had always been . . . missing . Not that he could name it. He wasn’t that interested in psychoanalyzing himself. He’d just known he wasn’t ready to marry her and had broken it off.
She’d wisely dropped the wedding talk after that first breakup.
“Why do you keep checking your cell phone?” Lola snapped, pausing mid-cut into a pastry. “I told you, he’ll be down soon enough.”
Aiden frowned and cleared the notification from his watch. “We agreed to meet at the convention because it was neutral territory, Lo. Him sending you takes it a bit into less friendly waters.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. We can have a civil conversation, can’t we?” Lola arched a perfectly shaped reddish-gold eyebrow, then stabbed her pastry.
Every time they sat across from each other at a meal, Aiden remembered the way she stabbed her food, and the way it made him feel. Like she was going to turn the tines of that fork on him someday if he pushed hard enough.
“The last time?—”
“The last time was the last time. We agreed to that. I don’t want your scraps, Aiden. And I mean it. I’m here only as a favor to my father.”
Somehow, he didn’t believe her.
Just like he didn’t believe the messiness of their relationship hadn’t affected the acquisition of Ipolymer Synthetics. Jorge had been advising the board of Ipolymer, and somehow everything about the deal had just gotten messier after the last breakup with Lola.
He undid the top button of his collar and leaned forward, the blast of the air-conditioning not nearly strong enough to keep the sweat from dampening his neck.
“Listen, I really don’t have time for this.
I have back-to-back meetings scheduled during this convention.
Yes, we want Ipolymer—we need them. But that doesn’t mean we won’t walk from the negotiations if?—”
“Like I said, he’s coming. You and I don’t need to hash out the details now; Daddy’s on his way. I just thought it would be nice for us to grab a cup of coffee and catch up.” She flashed a perfectly innocent smile at him—if he could believe anything Lo did was innocent.
Hell, innocent and Lo Salas were the two furthest terms from each other in the dictionary, and he knew that from experience.
But thinking about her that way now won’t help anything.
That lack of innocence had been precisely what had roped him back in—not once, not twice, but four times.
A chance meeting. A tempting smile. A reminder of how good they’d been together.
And every damn time, he’d fallen for it, conveniently forgetting how ruthless she could be.
Then at dinner or at the till at a market, she’d remind him—an offhanded insult, a condescending remark.
And just like that, the spell would break.
Not this time, though.
This time, the ambush wouldn’t work.
This time, he was here for a damn work convention, and hopefully, he’d close the acquisition with Ipolymer before returning home to London.
He was not here to make a massive mistake with a woman.
But he’d be nowhere closer to that acquisition if he pissed Lola off enough.
He glared down at his coffee, wishing he’d ordered the tea he really wanted. But the last time he’d ordered tea at a coffee shop in the US, the damn thing had taken a full half hour to cool to a drinkable temperature, and he’d still scalded his tongue on the first sip.
“I know that look,” Lola said, her voice suddenly softer. “You don’t have to be so angry. Is it wrong for me to want to know how you are?”
“I’m not angry.” Aiden frowned at her. “I just don’t think this is particularly productive.
The last time I saw you, Ipolymer walked away from the negotiating table the next day.
It’s taken me a full eight weeks to get them back for discussions.
I can’t afford for my personal life to have an impact on the business dealings of Camden Enterprises. ”
Her hazel eyes darkened. “If you’re implying that my father did anything illegitimate as a result of our last breakup, that’s just disgusting.”
Fuck. The bloody woman was putting him in a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation.
“Lo, I really don’t want to do this again.”
She changed her tactic, her eyes growing shiny. “You won’t even have coffee with me? Really, Aiden? Is that how things are? Coffee for fifteen minutes while my father—whose plane landed late, I might add—gets settled into his hotel room? You’re unbelievable.”
Aiden pressed his lips to a line. Mayday. Bloody mayday .
But no one would be coming to save him because he was thirty-one years old, and if he couldn’t manage a civil coffee with his ex, he had no business running a multinational defense contracting corporation. He settled on a neutral, “I don’t know what to say.”
She stood, crumpling her napkin onto her plate.
Dammit.
“Lola, hang on?—”
“No, we’re done here. I can see from your expression that this was a massive mistake.” She shook her head, a scowl on her pretty face. “Honestly, Aiden, you’re such a man-child. You can’t even handle sitting with me civilly. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not about not sitting with you. I’ve just got loads of meetings, and I’m not here for pleasure. Vegas isn’t my dream destination. I’m here for a convention, and that’s it.”
“Of course you are. You wouldn’t know the meaning of fun if she sat on your face.” Lola grabbed her purse. “Which she has. Several times, I might add. I can’t believe I lost nearly a year of my life on this back-and-forth, wishy-washy nonsense from you.” With a glare, she turned and stalked away.
Aiden stared into the void she’d left, unsure if he should feel relieved, offended, or both.
Was that it?
Had getting rid of her been that easy?
Of course, he did have a few onlookers staring at him as though he’d just struck the woman—Lola had never known volume control. He gave them a stiff nod, then lifted his mobile to avoid any eye contact.
His mobile buzzed, and Aiden glanced down at an email.
Sender: Jorge Salas
Subject: The meeting is off.
He exhaled sharply, fingers curling tight around the table’s edge, the cheap laminate pressing against his palm.
Fucking fantastic.
He pushed his chair back, wanting to storm out of the café. Instead, he gathered his paper cup, and the plate and cup Lola had left behind, and carried them over to the bin.
Ridiculous. This was how Jorge Salas did business?
But, deep down, he knew it wasn’t just about Lola. Salas was guiding Ipolymer on the acquisition. He knew how much Camden Enterprises wanted it, and he was driving a hard bargain because they could afford to.
The board had sent him to Vegas with one order—make that acquisition happen.
And now everything was bleeding at the seams.
Fuck.