Chapter 2
2
LAYLA
“Are you sure you don’t want us to stick around to help you finish up, babe?” Tori asks as she peers inside another box.
There are still a few boxes lingering in every room. Most of them have been unpacked, thanks to the three women bustling around my new apartment, but there are still dozens more to take care of. We have been hard at it for hours now. I don’t know what I would do without them. My mom couldn’t be here to help today. She was so upset when she found out she had to work. She was going to try to reschedule her shift at the hospital, but I assured her that, between the girls and me, we had it covered.
I swat Tori’s hand away and close the flap on the box. “No, thanks. You’ve all done more than enough for one day. Now it’s time to finish off the rest of that champagne and order some dinner. As much as I’m dying to try out the kitchen, it will have to wait for another day because I don’t have any food yet.” I snicker as I open the fridge that only holds the two remaining bottles of champagne the girls brought plus one more that was in the welcome basket that came with the suite.
“We can have this done in a couple more hours, chérie . It’s not a problem at all,” Maddie shouts from the hall bathroom.
“Seriously, I’m exhausted. I’m also starving. Besides, I’ve already ordered our food, it should be here any minute. Leave it. I’ll take care of the rest tomorrow. As soon as you guys leave, I’m going to grab the last box from my car, and then I’m going to try out my new bathtub and crash for the night.”
Avery throws her hands up and sighs. “Okay, but you know we don’t mind. I’m not sure I would want to wake up to all this.” She gestures around the room.
I wave her off. The furnishings are all in place and my bed is set up and made. That’s all I really care about right now. The rest of the boxes can wait until tomorrow. We made a pretty good dent in them. Whatever is left won’t take me long. They are all sorted by room. I just need to finish putting things away, breaking down and removing the boxes, and then I’m done.
The door buzzer puts an end to our discussion. “That will be our food. Everyone stop what you are doing and sit,” I order as I shove the box in front of me aside and get to my feet. “I’ll be right back. Tori, since you are in the kitchen already, pop one of those bottles of champagne and start pouring. I think we’ve finally earned it,” I yell over my shoulder as I hustle down the hall to collect our food.
I glare at the huge bouquet of flowers that someone has placed on the table in my foyer as I pass them by. I’ve been tempted to throw them out all day, but for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it. I try to block them out as I smile and pull open the door.
“Thanks.” I hand the guy on the other side a tip before taking the three pizza boxes from him. “Have a good night,” I say as I shut the door and spin around. The rest of this night is for celebrating. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. I’ll deal with my conflicted thoughts about Victor Bancroft after that.
“God, I’m stuffed.” Avery leans back on my new sofa and pats her flat stomach.
Tori rolls her eyes as she reaches for her fourth piece of pizza. “You only ate two small pieces, how can you possibly be stuffed?”
Avery looks down at her tummy and giggles. “They say your stomach is the size of your fist.” She holds up her tiny fist and her eyes grow huge. “How the hell did I even get two pieces in there?”
“ Mon Dieu , it stretches, silly. You should know, you’ve had two babies in there at the same time.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. And, for the record, they weren’t in my stomach.”
Maddie ignores her comment and snickers as she sips her wine. “The key is to not stretch it too much. If you do, you have to burn it off before you end up looking like a muffin.” She’s only had one piece, herself. She hates exercising.
Tori bites into her fourth piece. “Mmm.” When we all look her way, she shrugs and continues eating. “I’m going for a run first thing tomorrow morning. This”—she holds up her slice of pizza —“won’t even have time to settle in. Also, I think you mean muffin top, not muffin, Maddie.”
Maddie shudders and waves her hand as she reaches for the wine to top up our glasses. “Whatever. Either way, it’s not a good look.”
Avery stops giggling and looks down at her stomach once more, searching for a bulge that doesn’t exist. “Oh God, can I join you for your run tomorrow, Tor? I don’t want to look like either of those things…ever again.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I blurt out. “You’re beautiful and have a body to die for. You have no muffin of any kind. So, stop worrying.”
Her eyes widen before she giggles and reaches between her thighs. “Jeez, Layla, you had me worried for a minute there. I said I didn’t want to look like one, not that I didn’t want to have one. I love my muffin, and so does Liam.”
Maddie spits her wine out, and Tori’s hand halts on the way to her mouth. A second later, laughter erupts from all of us. When Avery continues, she has us practically rolling on the floor. “Maybe a little too much as it turns out—hence two babies from his super sperm.”
“Stop,” Tori squeals as she doubles over.
“What? A girl has needs. I’m sure Grayson doesn’t give yours a moment’s peace when he rolls into town.”
“Oh. My. God,” I mutter as I roll my eyes, and everyone cracks up once again.
Two hours later, the girls have all left. I sigh. It’s been a good day. I finish loading the dishwasher and drop the pizza boxes into the recycle bin before I head to my car to grab the last few things I left in there. Once this is done, I’m going to test out that big tub in my ensuite, and then it’s bedtime. It’s the perfect way to finish my first night in my own place.
Aside from a few rentals the past few years, I have lived most of my life in the cozy little house my mother was able to purchase in Brooklyn when I was ten years old. It seemed like a mansion at the time, compared to the tiny apartments we had been living in before that. She still has another four years left on the mortgage, which she has refused to let me help her with. That’s another thing I’ll need to deal with, but not tonight.
Thank God, this is the last of it . I throw the duffle bag over my shoulder and hike the heavy box up onto my hip as I the slam the trunk of my Audi A4 with my elbow. I love this car. I was so proud of myself when I finally saved up enough money to purchase it on my own. Today, we celebrated something huge. A milestone in most people’s lives. Yet somehow, purchasing this car still feels bigger because it took me several years of hard work to earn enough to buy it. The money for this place just fell into my hands unexpectedly.
No. Stop. I chastise myself. I said I wouldn’t think about my biological father anymore today and I won’t. Angry at myself, I click the fob in my hand with a little too much force. The car beeps back at me as I start walking towards the elevator on shaky legs. This box is heavy, and I’m exhausted. It’s late, and thankfully no one is down here. I look like shit, and I don’t smell much better. I’ve been at this since six o’clock this morning. I just have to make it back upstairs where I have a bathtub calling my name.
Just as I’m approaching the elevator, a shiny black Tesla screeches to a halt in the space right next to it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a guy hop out of the driver’s seat. Two very tipsy women spill out of both doors on the other side.
Jesus, I don’t need this right now.
I push the button repeatedly in the hopes that I can slip inside and close the door before they get here. The girls both latch on as the guy wraps an arm around each of them. Then the kissing and fondling begins.
For God’s sake, get a room already. My anger returns with a vengeance. It’s irrational. I know that. I don’t even know these people. Still, I slap the button again, hoping I can make my escape before they get any closer.
Of course, the bloody elevator doors slide open the instant they walk up. Easy peasy—as if he summoned it with his superpowers.
Asshole.
I step inside and walk straight to the back, raising my box as high as I can in the hopes of blocking them out. It doesn’t work. I get a good look, and again, the universe is against me. The women could be models, with their gorgeous faces and equally gorgeous bodies. They continue to coo and kiss up and down their friend’s neck in unison. I can’t help myself; I raise my eyes to see what all the fuss is about.
Holy shit!
I fumble as I nearly drop my box. Golden eyes that resemble those of a lion, the king of the beasts, meet mine and I quickly look away. I’m not intimidated, but how is it possible for a man to look like that?
My heart flutters in my chest and a fine sheen of sweat breaks out all over my body, making it hard to hold on to the stupid box in my hands. I feel like I’m having a heart attack or something. This reaction is so unexpected. I’m not this girl. I don’t even particularly like men. I mean, I’m not a nun, but men like the one looking at me right now are one hundred percent not my type. I hate players, and I know one when I see one.
“Floor?”
God, please don’t let him be my neighbor. I’m so caught up in my thoughts, at first, I don’t hear the word.
“What floor?” The voice is louder now. It’s rich and deep as it washes over me. It snaps me out of my head.
Shit . Is he speaking to me?
I step forward to push the button for my floor, but the duffle bag sitting on my shoulder slides down my arm making it nearly impossible.
“Damn it!” I blurt out as it crashes to the floor, and I scramble to keep a hold on the box. When I once again have the box under control, I glance over to see three pairs of eyes staring back at me. The golden pair, framed by thick dark lashes, crinkle up at the sides as they stare down at me. The bastard is enjoying this . He disengages himself from his companions and steps forward.
“Floor?” he asks for a third time, with a sexy grin. He’s all dimples and square jaw and white teeth, and I hate him a little more. “Unless of course you’d like to join us.” He bends down smoothly and picks up my bag. His eyes never leave mine. Then he rises just as smoothly and rearranges my bag over my shoulder. His hands linger. They’re strong and large and I’m immediately aware of his blazing sexuality. The buzz from his touch makes me take an involuntary step back. I don’t want him to know that I find him attractive.
Shut up! You do not find him attractive.
My eyes narrow as I hold his stare. “Fourteen,” is all I say. I don’t even try to hide the irritation in my voice.
He doesn’t move. He’s too bloody close, but I refuse to move again. His eyes rake over me as he reaches over and presses his card against the scanner before pushing the button for the penthouse. His fingers then hover over my floor.
“You sure?”
His eyes gleam with a hint of amusement. “It looks like you could use some fun. Might help you relax a little.” His lips curl wickedly as his eyes finally return to my face, and all I can see are those infuriatingly sexy dimples.
“ Positive ,” I practically sneer.
I’m not sure if I’m more pissed at him, or at myself for my stupid reaction to him. Either way, I can’t hold back. I tilt my chin in the direction of his companions. “It looks like you already have your hands full, and besides, I have better things to occupy my time.” I smile and there’s no warmth to it. “I need to wash my hair.” His eyes move to my hair, which really does need to be washed. It’s pulled back and clipped up in a messy bun. I hold my stance and don’t take my eyes off him. I refuse to be affected by someone like him. His eyes slide back to meet mine, and he nods and then pushes the button for my floor.
“For the record, I’m an excellent multitasker, but suit yourself.” Then he goes back to his friends, who pick up right where they left off. The elevator dings when it reaches the fourteenth floor— my floor. The doors slide open. They don’t even look up as I push past them and storm into the hallway.
I spend most of the next day unpacking and running errands. My encounter with the man who lives above me lingers on my mind, despite my best efforts to forget all about him, and it irritates the hell out of me. I need groceries and a few other things before I can officially say I live here. Thank God, I don’t run into lover boy again. His car was gone when I left the parking garage, and the space is still empty as I walk past with three bags of groceries in my arms.
Please don’t drive up.
With any luck, I’ll never have to see him again. I don’t know what the hell happened last night. He affected me, and I don’t like it. The only reaction I ever have to guys like him is complete and utter revulsion. I have my father to thank for that. I chalk it up to exhaustion and too much wine. It won’t happen again.
I spend the rest of the night preparing for a meeting I have tomorrow morning. My client’s company is in shambles, and he is being strong-armed into selling off to a company whose only purpose is to buy and sell floundering businesses like his. More often than not, those companies chew them up and then spit out most of the pieces, keeping only what they consider lucrative. Who cares about the people who have worked there for decades, or their livelihood. That’s where I come in. It’s my job to ensure those people are taken care of and treated fairly at the end of the day. I’m sure my career choice is just another spin-off from my deadbeat father. I’ll always take care of those who can’t take care of themselves. It’s who I am down to my core, and I’m damn good at it. I love a challenge, and I’m always up for a good fight.
I wake bright and early. I’m meeting my client for coffee and then we are going to Hendrix Equity to meet with the CEO and their legal team to see if we can hash out a reasonable deal. I spend a little extra time on my appearance this morning. I’ve been doing this job for a few years now, but Hendrix Equity is the biggest company I’ve ever gone up against. I want them to know I’m not a pushover just because I’m a woman and I’m young.
Two hours later, my client and I arrive at Hendrix Equity. I swallow, trying to calm my nerves as I stare up at the glass skyscraper in front of me. The company is huge. Hendrix Equity’s name sits front and center on the building in shiny gold letters. They’re the biggest investment company in New York, and one of the top three in the country. I don’t know how many staff they have, but I know they take up the top three floors of this building.
We step out of the elevators. We are right on time. My nerves are now under control. I hold my head high as we walk behind the receptionist as she escorts us into a meeting room. John Campbell, the lawyer who represents Hendrix Equity, is already there, pouring himself a coffee from a carafe set up on the sideboard. He turns and smiles when he sees us.
“Good morning, Layla. Can I pour you a coffee?”
“John. Nice to see you again.” I smile as I set my briefcase down and walk towards him to shake his hand. “No thanks to the coffee, we just had one,” I answer, before I turn to my client. “This is Sheldon Fields. Sheldon, this is John Campbell, who represents Hendrix Equity.” They shake hands. I like John. I’ve worked with him before, and he has always been respectful and fair. Hopefully today won’t be any different.
“Shall we get started?” I ask as we take our seats and I start to unpack my briefcase.
“We’re just waiting on my client, he had to step out to take a call. He shouldn’t be too long.”
“I’m here.” A deep voice booms from somewhere behind me. I swivel my chair to see who the voice belongs to. The man walks briskly past me and turns when he reaches the head of the table. My heart trips on itself.
Nooooo.
Golden eyes stare back at me. They are the eyes of a lion—the king of beasts. I’ve only seen them once before, but I’d recognize them anywhere. I think I see a flicker of surprise before it disappears into their depths.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This cannot be happening.
His eyes rise to take in my clean, shiny hair, and he smiles. It comes on slow and heated. Dimples. Square jaw. White teeth. I force a smile in return. If he’s shocked to see me, he doesn’t let on. He holds out a hand. I’m a professional. I refuse to be intimidated by him and I have a job to do, so I square my shoulders, rise gracefully from my seat, and place my hand in his. He squeezes slowly.
Bad idea. It is the most sexually arousing hand shake in history, as his warm squeeze sends a rush of heat and lust straight to my core. I momentarily break eye contact—because no way am I looking him in the eyes while my lady parts flip out at his touch—before I regain my senses and lock my eyes on his once again.
“Layla Bancroft.” My voice is cool and controlled as I shake more firmly than is necessary, ignoring the electricity that crackles between us.
His smile widens. “Cole Hendrix. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Layla.”