Chapter 16
16
COLE
I need to get this fucking date set up and fast. If my balls get any bluer, they’re going to shrivel up and drop off. I almost swallowed my tongue yesterday when Layla sent that text telling me that she wasn’t wearing any panties, and even worse, that she finished what I started. If I hadn’t been in a goddamn client meeting, I would have marched right back over there and spanked her sexy ass for distracting me when I needed to be on top of my game.
Thank fuck I was back in my office with my brothers when the text with the picture of said scantily clad ass came through. I’d managed to get my dick in order by then, but after seeing her perfect ass in a pair of the hot-as-fuck lace panties I had sent over, all of my hard work was undone. My dick had never been so hard. I thought I was going to pass out from the loss of blood to the rest of my body.
I tried to keep it under wraps, but Con and Chris knew something was going on after I dropped my phone and practically dove under my desk to retrieve it before they got a glimpse of what’s mine. No one gets to see that much of her but me. They questioned me, and of course, I told them to fuck off and mind their own business.
Then, when I politely bowed out of joining them for drinks, the jig was up. I never bow out without a good reason. They refused to leave and continued to pester me until I told them what was going on. It’s not that I didn’t want to join them, it was simply that I couldn’t, or at least wouldn’t, get up from behind my desk with a raging hard-on that I couldn’t possibly hide. Christ, I was skeptical that I could even walk at that point. They wanted to see the picture, and that’s when I kicked them out.
Assholes.
Despite the fact that the three of us have always attracted a lot of female attention, none of us has ever had a serious relationship. There were intermittent girlfriends here and there when we were in school, but none of them lasted long enough to be called serious. Don’t get me wrong, we all love women. We just don’t have the time for anything more than a little fun. We know it, and consequently, we all make sure the women we spend time with know it as well. Despite how it might look to outsiders, we aren’t complete assholes, and, in my opinion, we aren’t players either. We’re just busy.
We’re all overachievers. At first, we were too focused on excelling at the lofty goals our parents set for us, and after that, we each had our own mountains to climb. No one and nothing were going to get in our way.
Nowadays, Hendrix Equity takes up most of our time. Business is booming. We have more money than we could ever spend, and we are still young enough and good-looking enough to enjoy it to the fullest. Whenever we want to blow off some steam, it is usually only for a night or two, and there is no shortage of beautiful women who are happy to help us with that. The only thing that changes with any frequency are the faces that belong to them. Most would think we have it made, and they wouldn’t be wrong.
Hell, up until that night I ran into a fiery little vixen in my elevator nine months ago, I thought I was king of the world. I still want to be king of the world, but I’m no longer quite as interested in the harem that comes along with the job. There’s only one woman I’m interested in these days, and it turns me on that she is a challenge. Every obstacle I overcome with her feels like another goal achieved—another mountain climbed. I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure Layla Bancroft is my perfect match. Now I just need to convince her.
I know I have my work cut out for me.
I have a date to plan, starting right now.
I pick up my phone and then put it back down. I don’t have a clue what Layla likes to do, and aside from Thai, I have no idea what she likes to eat. I got lucky on that one. I don’t want to chance fucking this up before we even get started. I don’t want to treat her like all the rest. This isn’t just about fun and fucking—well, it is—but it’s also about more than that. I want to blow her mind with this date, and I’m not sure how to go about that. I’ve never cared enough to waste any extra energy on this sort of thing.
“Fuuuck,” I groan as I scrub my hands through my hair. I need help.
My brothers are no use to me in this regard. I could call one of Layla’s friends or maybe talk to Devon, he seems to be in the know about everything around there. No . I can do this. I don’t want Layla to think I didn’t put any effort into this.
I pick up my phone again and dial my assistant, Carla. She answers immediately.
“Hey, Cole, what’s up?”
“Can you come in here for a moment please.”
“Sure, I’ll be right in.”
The line goes dead. Fuck, this is going to be weird. I don’t have time to backtrack before my door opens and Carla steps in, closing it behind her.
“Hey, Cole, what can I do for you. Everything okay?” she asks as she approaches my desk looking slightly nervous. Shit, maybe she thinks I called her in here to reprimand her or worse.
“Yes, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any alarm. Have a seat. I need your help with something personal.
She looks at me like I have two heads. We have a great working relationship, but we aren’t exactly what you would call friends. We don’t do personal.
“Um, okaaay. What do you need?”
Jesus, this is awkward.
“I…ah…” I struggle with what to tell her. “I want to ask someone out on a date. It needs to be really good. I thought you could help.”
Carla’s eyes almost bulge out of her head as she stares back at me.
“Let me get this straight,” she finally says, with a smirk on her face. “Cole Hendrix—CEO of Hendrix Equity—millionaire and God’s gift to women, wants me to help you put a date together.”
That about sums it up. I smirk and nod my head enthusiastically.
Carla squints her eyes and purses her lips like she is still trying to come to terms with it. It’s not complicated, for fuck’s sake.
“Sooo, I’m guessing this must be someone special then,” she says.
“Yes.”
She throws her hands up. “Jesus, Cole, can you help me out here? I need more than a one syllable answer. Tell me about her. What are her likes and dislikes. Favorite foods…anything.”
I rub my hand over my jaw because this is fucking frustrating. It was so much easier when I simply hooked up and walk away afterwards.
“Okay, but this stays between you and me. Got it?”
“Got it. But need I remind you that you asked me for my help, so maybe you could lose the attitude. And I expect a bonus for this, because I know this is not going to be easy. Got it?” She throws my words back at me and raises an eyebrow as she flips her notebook open.
“Yeah. Sorry. Bonus. Got it.” I’ve already decided I’ll do whatever it takes to pull this off, but Carla doesn’t need to know that.
She nods. “Tell me about her.”
“I don’t know much, that’s the fucking problem. She’s a lawyer. Thirty-one. Likes kids and animals…oh, and also Thai food, but you can’t use that because I already have. We need something new.” I stop speaking and her pen hovers over her notebook, waiting for more. When I don’t continue, she looks up questioningly.
“Go on.”
“That’s about it.”
“That’s it! Have you even met this woman in person? It sounds more like you’re stalking her on social media,” she grumbles.
I smirk.
“Christ, please tell me you aren’t stalking her on social media.”
I shrug. “Of course not. I did that before I got to know her better.”
“Cole,” she shrieks. “Are you kidding me? Please tell me you’re kidding me.” When I don’t say anything, she goes on.
“So you say you’ve checked her social media sites. It doesn’t sound like it was very helpful since you still don’t appear to know much about her. What exactly have you been doing to”—she finger quotes—“get to know her, because it sure doesn’t sound like you’ve been talking either.”
My smirk grows into a sinful smile and shrug this time.
“Oh my God. Stop. I take that back. Do not say anything more.” Her cheeks flush as she pops out of her chair and heads toward the door. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to help you with this. Forget about the bonus.”
“ Please ,” I blurt out, just as her hand lands on the doorknob. “Please, Carla. I’m desperate and I don’t want to fuck this up. I really need your help.” I’ve sunk to a new low. Layla better fucking appreciate this if I actually do manage to pull it off.
Carla drops her hand and her shoulders slump, but then, thank fuck, she turns around and walks back to the chair she just vacated and plops back down.
“Name.” She looks up at me when I don’t answer. “Look, Cole, if you want my help, I’m going to have to see what I can find out about this person since you’ve done such a poor job of it. I’m going to need a name for that.”
“Layla Bancroft,” I answer with a sigh. I’m all in now.
“Layla Bancroft?” Her eyes snap up to meet mine. “As in the Layla Bancroft who hates you, Layla Bancroft?” Confusion is written all over her face. Join the fucking club, sweetheart.
“The one and only,” I answer blandly.
“Wow.” She starts to say something else but catches herself and finishes with, “Just wow.”
“It’s complicated,” I offer.
“I bet it is.” She chuckles as she stares back at me. Thankfully she pulls herself together and moves on to the task at hand. “Any thoughts at all on what you might like to do on this date?”
When I smile, she holds up her hand. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight. I’m only going to be involved in the PG-rated portion of the evening, so keep those thoughts to yourself.” As if remembering who she’s talking to, she adds, “Please and thank you.”
“No fucking clue, besides the obvious…dinner.”
“Boring and overdone. I’ve made enough reservations for you to know that is your go-to. I think we can come up with something better if you’re serious about making an impression.”
“We can? And, I am,” I say hopefully.
“I’m going to need some time. When is this date supposed to take place anyway?”
“Uh…I haven’t exactly set it up yet. I just know that she wants a date.”
“God, you’re hopeless. How the hell do you even get anyone to go out with you?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Shit, forget I asked. Today is Wednesday. Do you think you can get her to agree to go out with you this Friday or Saturday? Why don’t we start with something casual, like maybe a picnic in Central Park or something like that.”
“Not exactly my style.” I roll my eyes and frown.
“Oh, so you want to go with your usual style then?” Carla raises both her brows and stares at me like I’m an idiot.
She has a point.
“Picnic sounds great,” I say as I grit my teeth. It’s nothing like what I might usually plan, but then again, nothing about this is usual, and that is precisely why Layla asked for this date.
“Look,” she sighs. “Why don’t you focus on securing the date and time, and let me know the details when you have that done. I’ll take care of the rest. I’m going to need a couple of days to pull this off. I’d ask if there’s anything else I need to know, but if there is, I already know it’s going to be up to me to find out what it is. I’ll give you a briefing on everything I find out about her before your date.”
She stands and walks out. I guess we are done here.
Once the door is closed, I spin my chair around and stand so I can look out the window. Who the fuck would have thought going on an actual date would be so complicated. I pull my phone out of my pocket and ogle the picture Layla sent me last night. I stare at the firm golden globes of her ass that are barely covered by the lacy black panties I picked out for her. Well, I didn’t actually pick them out, I had someone do that for me, but my instructions were pretty precise, and my personal shopper did a fantastic job. I want to see more, and there’s only one way that is going to happen.
I pull up Layla’s number to call her, but then decide to send a text instead. I don’t want to interrupt her if she’s in the middle of something important, and I don’t want to leave a voicemail either.
Me: Good morning, Ms. Bancroft. I hope you slept well. I was thinking this weekend would be a good time to test the waters with that date you requested. Let me know if you are available Saturday late afternoon. I’ll pick you up. Cx
I hit send. I can’t believe I’m going to take her on a fucking picnic. I’m not even sure if I’ve ever actually been on a picnic before. I certainly don’t have any recollection of doing so at this time. I’ll have to ask one of my brothers about that.
What does one even do on a picnic besides sit on the ground and eat cold food? Sounds horrible. I hope Carla knows what the fuck she’s doing, because I’m not convinced this is the way to go. I like the outdoors, but for me that usually involves more interactive activities such as hiking, surfing, running, pretty much anything that gets the heart rate up. Sitting around on a blanket, eating cold food sounds incredibly fucking dull to me.
My phone dings. I glance down and see Layla’s name.
Layla: Good morning, Mr. Hendrix. I slept amazingly well. Thank you for asking. I’m busy Saturday. I’m available Sunday afternoon or I can also make later on Friday work. LMK .
Huh, she didn’t return my kiss. But more importantly, what the hell is she doing on Saturday that she can’t go out with me. She better not be going out with anyone else. My blood starts to boil at the thought.
Me: What could possibly be more important than going on a date with me on Saturday?
I almost hit send, but then decide it makes me sound desperate, so I delete it and start over. I’m not denying that I may be feeling a little desperate and a lot needy at the moment, but Layla doesn’t need to know that.
Me: We could always do later on Saturday if that works better, but either of the other times works for me if not. Cx.
I wait and watch as three dots start dancing up and down.
Layla: I’m spending time with Aria Saturday afternoon. I don’t know exactly how long she will want to hang out with me, so maybe one of the other times would be better.
Okay. Good. She’s not going out with anyone else. A kid I can deal with. A light bulb goes off and a wicked smile spreads across my face. This might be a perfect opportunity to spend time with Layla when her guard is down. She’ll be on her best behavior with the kid around. I quickly dial Carla.
“Cole,” she answers. Her tone telling me that she is already busy with my little favor and wants me to leave her alone. Too fucking bad. I sign the paychecks around here.
“Hey, Carla. Here are the details. Saturday afternoon. Can you add a kid into the mix. A girl. Nine years old. Let’s go with the picnic in Central Park. I’m going to need you to make this amazing. Don’t worry about the cost.
“She has a kid?” Carla asks incredulously. “That hasn’t come up in my searches so far.”
“The kid isn’t Layla’s. She’s a Big Sister. I’m trying to earn some brownie points here, so do whatever you need to make that happen.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” she mumbles under her breath. I’ll make it up to her if she can pull this off.
“I don’t suppose you know if either of them have any allergies or dislikes?” Then she laughs out loud. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out. Anything else?”
“No, at least not right now.”
The phone goes dead in my ear. I look at it and roll my eyes before I get back to focusing on my reply to Layla.
Me: Why don’t you bring her along? She seems to be a big part of your life. I already know the kid loves me and she’s pretty cute, so why not include her.
Layla: Uh…what kind of date is this? I wasn’t expecting that last text.
I laugh out loud as I read her text. I bet you weren’t, sweetheart. I have to admit, I’m kind of surprising myself right now. I’m definitely stepping way outside of my usual box. I guess that is the point of all of this, after all.
Me: I’m full of surprises, beautiful. However, to answer your question, this will be a PG-rated date. At least the first part, but it’s a surprise so don’t ask any more questions. It will give us a chance to continue to get to know each other better without me having to worry about you attacking me.
I grin as I wait for her response—and wait—and wait. I’m just about to give up and try to get some work done when my phone finally dings and then dings again. I bark out a laugh as I read her first text. Fuck, I love her fiery spirit.
Layla: Should we put money on who will crack first? I’m game if you are.
“Game on, beautiful. I already have the worst case of blue balls on the planet. A little longer won’t kill me. I hope,” I groan as I move on to the second text.
Layla: It’s very sweet of you to want to include Aria. She has asked about you. I think she would be very excited to know you have asked us out on a date. Are you sure? I don’t want to say anything to her unless you are one hundred percent sure.
I smile. Looks like I’m already starting to rack up those brownie points. The kid likes me. I knew she did, but it’s nice to know she is still talking about me. I can use all the help I can get when it comes to Layla. I know shit about kids. Aria is only nine, but she is more mature than a lot of grown-ups I know. How hard can it be to spend an afternoon with her?
Me: I’m 100%, sweetheart. I never do or say anything I don’t mean. What’s the plan? Should we pick her up together or would you prefer I pick you both up at your place? What time works best for you?
Layla: Pick us up at my place at three-thirty. Does that work?
Me: Perfect.
I hit send and then quickly send another.
Me: I’m looking forward to seeing you.
Layla: Me too. See you Saturday .