Page 76 of Torrid Passion
CHAPTER 14
Lochlan
After pacing my office a thousand times like a caged tiger, I decide to take action before I drive myself—and my entire staff—fucking crazy. It only took me a quick Google search to find what I was looking for.
Thank God.
I’ve been out of sorts all morning.
The second Rod joined our video conference call, he knew something was off. What was I going to tell him? ‘I fucked my baby sister’s best friend like I was auditioning for a porn movie. Oh, and there’s more. For some inexplicable reason, I turned into Big Stallion and reminded her she was fucking a stud while calling her my little slut?’
Yeah, not happening.
Rod might think I’m insane.
Frankly, maybe I am.
Before even touching her, I knew Kyla would be memorable. I never sleep over with my once and done encounters. I’d hate to send the wrong message. There was no way I wasn’t going to spend the night embracing Kyla’s warm curves. But I wasn’t ready for the void this morning. Heck, I wasn’t ready to wake up without her by my side.
I’m still disturbed by how Kyla left without a trace. In a moment of delusion,I considered texting Harlow to ask her for her best friend’s number.
Stupid idea.
That would only sound the alarm bells and push my nosy baby sister to ask a million questions. Things are complicated as is. I don’t need Harlow poking her nose where it doesn’t belong.
Since I have a business to run, I make sure to take care of the most urgent things. Three hours later, I tell my executive assistant, Denise Villers, not to expect me for the next two hours. Today, I’m having lunch in Venice. Sure, a half-hour drive seems a little much for Italian food. In my defense, Felix is the best place to eat handmade pasta in Los Angeles. Their pizzas are also pretty amazing. Bonus, the restaurant is conveniently located not too far from Red Carpet Ready. After a satisfying meal, I head to my second destination.
“Looks like I’m here,” I say when I catch a glimpse of the sign in front of the shop.
You can run, but you can’t hide, Kyla.
I get out of my Lexus LC, engage the alarm and head to the door.
“Well, hello there,” a tall blonde coos when I walk in.
“Hello,” I say.
“My name is Charlene and I’m here at your service,” the blonde says, before giving me a onceover.
“Thanks,” I nod. I scour the shop. It’s packed with women rifling through colorful clothing, but there’s no sign of Kyla’s cousins.
“We have an incredible selection of party dresses. Two floors of nearly-couture,” Charlene says.
What the hell is nearly-couture?
“Good to know.”
“Looking to buy something pretty for someone special?” She gives me another onceover. This one a lot more obvious.
“That’s not why I’m here.”
Her brown eyes meet mine. “In that case, I hope you’re here because you noticed me, because I surely noticed you. Nice wheels, by the way.”Wow, she’s aggressive.
“Actually, I’m looking for Stella or Hayden.” I don’t have time to waste.
“Oh, so this isn’t about me?” Charlene insists.
“Sorry. This is about an O’Keeffe.”
