Page 58 of Dirty Rich Cinderella Story

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Cole

I have never wanted to fuck a woman as badly as I want to fuck Lori Havens right here and now in this elevator, and we’re not even alone. That I want her to the point of distraction, and have for months now, is a problem that ends tonight. The floors tick by, twenty to be exact, each allowing me an opportunity to imagine the many ways to take this woman: bent over my desk, me driving inside her until she begs me to stop, and her sitting on my desk, her legs around my neck, my head buried between her thighs, top the list. Of course, there’s her on her knees—

The elevator doors open, and holy fucking hell, at least we’re a little closer to the hour when Lori will be on my tongue and on my cock. A few hours from now, she’ll be mine. With that certain future before me, I steel my willpower—that is, until Lori follows Cat and Reese out of the car ahead of me, and I’m allowed a perfect view of her heart-shaped backside in that burgundy dress. Change of plans, I decide, checking my watch to confirm there is a good thirty minutes until the party starts, adequate time for me to find a place to pull Lori’s dress up, slip inside her, and fuck her; just long enough to hear those sexy moans of hers. A fantasy I savor as I step out of the elevator car and to her side. That is until Maria rushes through the open double doors to our right, where our newly minted unoccupied space is being used for the party, and blows that all to hell.

“We have a problem,” she announces, stopping in front of us, her attire of jeans and a T-shirt making it clear that she hasn’t had time to change. “The catering company had a fire,” she continues. “They cancelled hours ago.”

“What?” Cat exclaims. “Why didn’t you call us?”

“Because I thought I had it handled,” Maria says, pressing her hand to her forehead, “and I handle worse than this most weeks.”

“Oh my God,” Cat breaths out, turning to Reese. “Oh my God.”

“Don’t panic,” Maria says, quickly. “I should have prefaced that statement by saying it’s handled. Somehow. Le Rue, the restaurant we all adore down the road, agreed to save us, but they showed up with no sweets and no coffee. We really need some kind of sweets.”

“I’ll help make phone calls,” Cat says. “Someone can help.”

“Time is an issue,” I say. “Do we have the champagne we ordered?”

“Yes,” Maria confirms. “All is well on that end.”

“We’re boozing people up and feeding them, then,” I reply. “Call it good.”

“Agreed,” Reese says. “How many of the partners are here?”

“Most of them,” Maria says. “But none of them know there’s a problem. I didn’t want to deal with them and this at the same time.”

“No food was a problem,” I say. “Skipping dessert and coffee is not a problem. Your job is done and done well, as always.”

“Again, I agree,” Reese chimes in. “Cat and I can manage the masses, Maria,” he adds, slipping his arm around Cat’s shoulder. “You go take a breather and change clothes. We’ll toast your hard work and our future when you get back.”

Cat twists in his arms to face him. “You go manage the masses,” she orders. “I get it. You’re a guy and it doesn’t feel important, but it is. We need dessert and coffee. This is a big event and we have time. It can be a final offering.”

“I think I can handle the coffee and sweets,” Lori offers, reaching inside a small burgundy purse at her hip and removing her phone. “I worked at a coffee shop, remember? The owner also operates a cupcake shop and the cupcakes are amazing. I also happen to know that he mass bakes on Saturday nights for the Sunday and Monday rush.”

“See why I love her?” Cat demands. “She’s amazing.”

“Call me amazing when I get the job done,” Lori says, dismissing the compliment, and eyeing Maria to ask, “How many am I servicing?”

“Two hundred,” Cat says, answering for Maria. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” Lori replies. “I’ll take over. I’ll handle this.”

The three women go back and forth a minute, or maybe two, before Maria proclaims, “Thank you, Lori,” and hugs her before she darts away.

Lori motions to the rest of us. “All of you go. You have better things to do than manage cupcakes.”

“You’re sure you don’t need me?” Cat asks.

“If I can’t handle cupcakes,” Lori replies, “then someone needs to fire me now.”

“These cupcakes might require a miracle,” Cat says, “but I do want to check out everything else inside. I’ll be back. Or you come find me. Whichever happens first.”

Lori nods, and Cat walks in the other direction. “Hold on, sweetheart,” Reese says, catching up to her, his arm settling around her shoulders, and for the first time in my life, I want to have what they have. I want to pull the woman next to me into my arms. I want to show the damn world she’s mine. I want to make her mine, and the craziest fucking part is that I feel no resistance to the idea.

“I can find you inside, too, Cole,” Lori offers. “I won’t be long.”

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