Page 94 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Thanks, Bridget.” Lola said absently as she picked up her phone.

Dress fitting at 4:30. Don’t be late!

“Shit,” she muttered. She’d forgotten. A quick glance at the time made her curse again. She could make it, but she was going to have to scramble. I’ll be there, she typed back, then grabbed her purse, gathered her files, and darted out the door.

Simon frowned at his phone, annoyed. Lola was at a dress fitting with Anna, and apparently the rest of the night had been designated as ‘girl time, no dudes allowed’, which put his plans for a sparring match and scene on hold. And with both the bachelor and bachelorette party planned for tomorrow night, he wouldn’t see her again until Saturday.

Dammit.

Last night had been the first time he’d felt as though he could really let loose since the accident, and judging by the way she’d come screaming—several times—she’d been just as ready as he for a return to their usual rough play. He’d hoped to continue with more of the same tonight, but it looked like he’d have to wait.

He glanced up at the rap of knuckles on his office door. Grant stood there with a file in his hands. “Got a minute?”

Simon grunted and gave a come ahead gesture with one hand while the other tapped out a text. Setting his phone aside, gestured Grant into a chair. “What’s up?”

Grant tossed a thick file onto the desk. “Everybody’s favorite client, and he’s all yours.”

“Fuck.” Simon scowled at the file. The minor—very minor—film director who had more money than brains was a perpetual pain in his ass. “What’s wrong with Howard now?”

“He thinks he’s being stalked.”

“Again?”

Grant nodded grimly. “He’s been getting emails.”

Simon frowned. “Harassing? Threatening?”

Grant shrugged. “Mostly annoying. It reads to me like typical fan mail. You know, ‘I admire you so much, I just want to work with you, blah blah blah’. When the flattery didn’t get a response, it escalated a bit. I still wouldn’t characterize it as threatening, but you know Howard.”

He was very much afraid he did. “I don’t suppose you could handle this?”

“I’m getting married next weekend. But even if I wasn’t, after the last time?” Grant shook his head. “You could double my salary and I wouldn’t do it.”

“I’m tempted to test that, but fine. What are his upcoming public appearances?”

Grant didn’t even have to consult the file. “A keynote address in L.A. tomorrow night. He’s on a plane to Dallas right after to judge a small film festival over the weekend, then location scouting for a new film. Here in Chicago.”

Simon paused in his note taking. “When is he here in town?”

“All next week.”

“Okay. Let’s put Zachary on a plane to L.A. tonight, he can handle the keynote and the film festival. We’ll switch off when they come to Chicago, give Zachary a break.”

“He’s going to want combat pay,” Grant warned.

“He’ll have earned it,” Simon muttered and Grant laughed.

“Howard says he wants to meet with you when he hits town to talk about adjusting his personal security.”

Simon sighed. “I hope to Christ he’s just blowing hot air again. If he’s actually being stalked this time, we’re never going to be able to get rid of him.”

Grant chuckled in agreement and rose to his feet. “What’ve you got planned for tonight?”

Simon scowled. “Nothing, now. My plans got derailed by ‘no dudes allowed’ night.”

“Mine, too. I was going to test drive a new e-stim unit. Now it’s going to have to wait for the honeymoon.”

“Unless you’re honeymooning on a deserted island, you better pack a gag along with it,” Simon warned him.

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