Page 96 of Whatever Lola Wants

“So?”

“So, we’re not compatible long term,” Simon told him. “I’m a Dom; I need a submissive. And believe me, she isn’t.”

Grant’s expression turned thoughtful. “No, I guess not.”

“Well, if you’re still looking,” Michael said, drawing Simon’s attention, “I might have someone for you. A friend of mine from Boston called earlier today to tell me that a submissive he used to play with just moved here, and she’s looking for a Dom. He asked me to watch out for her while she’s getting her feet wet in the local scene.”

Simon saw Grant’s frown out of the corner of his eye and ignored it. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name is Kayla. I spoke to her briefly, got a little of her play history, her D/s experience. She’s been in full time D/s relationships before, and that’s what she’s looking for.” Michael dug his phone out of his pocket and after tapping the screen a few times, passed it to Simon.

He studied the screen. A pretty little blonde with sparkling green eyes looked out at him, a shy smile on her lips.

“She said it was fine to give her number out to anyone I thought might be a good fit,” Michael continued. “There are a couple of club members that are looking for new partners, so she shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone.”

Simon continued to study the picture. She was lovely, and he liked the shy look in her eyes. If she was interested in a D/s relationship, she could be perfect. So why wasn’t he excited?

He was just nervous, he told himself. He passed the phone back to Michael. “Give me her number.”

Michael’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yes.” Simon realized both Michael and Grant were staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Michael tapped his phone screen. “Sending you her contact info now.”

“Great.” Simon felt the phone in his pocket vibrate as the text came through. He looked at Grant. “Bet’s to you, pal.”

Grant sent him an odd look before he reached for his chips. “See your hundred and raise it.”

Simon settled into the rhythm of the game and tried not to dwell on why his stomach felt as though he’d eaten something sour.

At ten o’clock the next morning, Simon picked up his office phone and dialed.

He hadn’t called last night because the poker game hadn’t broken up until well after eleven, and Simon had wanted to wait until Michael had a chance to let her know he’d be calling, tell her a bit about him. A single woman couldn’t be too careful, and he thought she was going about finding a new Dom the right way. He just hoped they hit it off.

“Hello?”

Her voice was soft, quiet. Sweet.

“Kayla.” He resisted the urge to clear his throat. “My name is Simon Hastings. I got your number from Michael O’Riley.”

“Yes, Simon.” Her voice warmed. “Michael told me you might be calling. How are you today?”

“I’m well, thank you. And you?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“Good. Settling in to Chicago all right?”

“So far,” she said with a musical laugh. “It’s very different from Boston.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, then found himself at a loss for words. Get to the point, Hastings. “Listen, Michael thought we might hit it off, so I wanted to see if you’d like to meet.”

“I’d love to,” she said in her soft voice. “I’m available for lunch today, or dinner, if that works better for you.”

“I already have plans for dinner, but lunch sounds good. What part of town are you in?”

She told him, and he frowned in thought. Not very convenient to the office, but doable. And there was a restaurant in that neighborhood that struck just the right balance of casual and intimate. “How does Italian food sound to you?”

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