Page 108 of Whatever Lola Wants

By Thursday night, Howard was back in L.A., Simon had arranged for the extra protection detail necessary to keep the client happy, and the rest of the small fires that had cropped up during the week had been successfully put out.

Exhausted, he poured himself a drink, stretched out on the sofa in his office, and closed his eyes.

“Brother, you look like shit.”

Simon raised his glass without bothering to open his eyes. “It’s been a fucker of a week.”

“Tell me about it.” Simon heard the clink of crystal, then Grant’s gusty sigh as he settled into a chair. “That was it, right? That was the last of it?”

“That was it.” Simon shifted just enough to sip his drink without spilling it down the front of his shirt.

Grant’s boots hit the coffee table with a thump. “Thank Christ.”

Simon drained his glass, feeling the burn of the whiskey as it slid down his throat to warm his belly. He pushed to his feet, ignoring Grant’s knowing gaze, and walked over to the bar to pour another.

The second went down so smoothly, he reached for a third. He’d been so busy all week that getting drunk hadn’t been an option. Right now, it sounded like a damn fine idea.

“You planning to get wasted?” Grant demanded.

Simon picked up the bottle and carried it back to the sofa with him. “You got a problem with that?”

Grant raised a brow. “Not as long as you’re sober, upright, and not puking by the time the ceremony rolls around on Saturday.”

“Plenty of time,” Simon decided and poured himself another shot.

Grant watched him toss it back. “Howard must have been a serious pain in the ass.”

Simon shook his head. “No more so than usual.”

“This is about Lola, then.”

Simon paused, his hand over the bottle. Grant shot him a smirk. “What, you didn’t think I knew about that? Shit, son. Women talk to each other.”

Simon grabbed the bottle and poured another shot. “So?”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

Simon shrugged. “She ended it.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Simon glowered at him and tossed back the drink. He wasn’t feeling the burn anymore, but he was a long way from numb. “Are we really going to do this? Sit around and talk about our feelings like a couple of…people who talk about their feelings?”

“Yep.” Unoffended, Grant smiled. “Anna says you lied to Lola about the submissive Michael set you up with.”

Simon set his glass down with a clink. “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

Simon’s glare was sulfuric. “It would’ve been fine if you hadn’t told your woman, and she hadn’t told Lola.”

Grant raised an eyebrow. “If I’d known it was a secret, I wouldn’t have. Why was it a secret?”

Simon pressed his heels to his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Lola’s a big girl,” Grant said mildly. He twirled the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes on Simon. “Seems to me if you two had an arrangement that included seeing other people, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “We didn’t.”

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