Page 98 of Whatever Lola Wants

“Really?” Surprise colored his voice even as the image of her wielding a whip came to mind. “Anyone in particular you’re planning to use that on?”

She chuckled. “Don’t worry, big guy, it won’t be you. I imagine I’ll be working on pillows and balloons for a while. It’ll probably take a couple of years to be good enough to actually use it on a person.”

“And even then, it won’t be me.”

“Nah, but you can watch.”

“Now, that I might get in to,” he told her with a chuckle.

She sighed. “Great. Now I’m even hornier than I was before this phone call. Remember where we left off for tomorrow night, will you?”

“You got it, sweetheart. Have fun tonight.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.”

He smiled as the phone clicked in his ear, his body tight with anticipation. Until he remembered his lunch date, and that he’d just lied to Lola about it.

Talk about a boner killer.

He was looking forward to lunch about as much as he would a root canal, but he needed to follow through. Kayla sounded lovely, and it would be rude to cancel ten minutes after making the date. Besides, she might be just what he’d been looking for.

He buzzed his secretary. “Carol, make lunch reservations at Mama Lucia’s for twelve-thirty, will you? Two people.”

“Sure thing,” she replied.

He thanked her, and shoving aside his uneasiness, got back to work.

Lunch was a disaster.

He was fifteen minutes late, having gotten a phone call from Everybody’s Favorite Client five minutes before he was due to leave. Talking Howard down usually took twice that, but he’d managed to foist the call off on Grant halfway through.

Which he would no doubt pay for, but he’d worry about that later.

When he stepped into the restaurant, the hostess informed him with a smile that his party was already waiting, and showed him to a small table by the window.

Kayla looked up at his approach and stood, a serene smile on her face. “Simon?”

“Kayla.” He nodded at the hostess, then gestured for Kayla to sit again before doing so himself. “I apologize for being late. I had a client concern come up just as I was leaving.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” she murmured, the same serene smile on her lips. “I’m sure it was important.”

He frowned slightly. It had been important, and he was pleased she wasn’t pitching a fit over it, but the calm serenity was a little strange. “Still, it was rude. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course.”

He smiled back and picked up the menu. “I’ve eaten here before, so if you tell me what you like I can probably steer you in the right direction.”

“Oh, whatever you’re having is fine.” She smiled at him. Soft smile, soft voice, soft eyes. “I’m not picky.”

Oookaaay. “I’m thinking lasagna.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Great.” He set the menu aside. “So. Tell me about yourself.”

She blinked, owl like. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything you’d like to tell me,” he replied. “What brought you here from Boston?”

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