“And a cigar in his mouth,” Ryan added.
George nodded then finally addressed Braden. “Speaking of which, I have some information I need to discuss with you. Is there somewhere we can speak quietly?”
Ryan and Portia gave each other a smile. The twinkle in the attorney’s eye gave Braden the feeling he was about to deliver bigger news than a mere extension of the lease. Maybe Alexander had left Braden the building?
He motioned for the man to follow him. “Absolutely. Why don’t we go to my office?”
“Wonderful.” George held out his hand to Lola and clasped her wrist. “Ms. Dubrovsky, this concerns you as well. Would you mind joining us?”
Her jaw fell for a split second before she recovered with a smug grin pointed in Braden’s direction. “I’d love to, Mr. Pappas.”
He took her by the arm. “Please, call me George. After all, someday I may be a guest at your engagement party,” he said to both of them.
Braden reared back as if someone had punched him in the gut. Where the hell would George get the idea that he and Lola might end up engaged?
Foreboding weighed heavy on his shoulders as he watched Lola work her magic on George. He knew the feeling. She did it every time he saw her. But regardless of how attracted he was to the temptress, there was nothing that would change the fact that Braden would never get married again.
CHAPTER 2
Oh, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound, that breathes upon a bank of violets,
stealing and giving odor. Enough, no more. ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, act 1, scene 1
With one arm linked through George’s, Lola followed Braden through the swinging doors of the kitchen, past Christopher and his sous chef of the day, and down a short narrow hall to Braden’s office. Her heart thumped as though it was jamming to an Eminem song.
As usual, her thoughts skipped from one place to the next. What had George meant about attending their engagement party? She’d read those romance books where a man and woman were forced into marriage in order to gain access to a trust fund, but Braden was already richer than Rockefeller.
Maybe her father had left her a trust fund and she had to marry to get it? No, that didn’t make sense. She didn’t even know her father. He’d never been a part of her life. Took off as soon as Reina had told him she was pregnant. Some supposed Muse she was. She inspired men to run away as fast as they could.
Not that Lola was any different. The first chance she had gotten to leave, she’d flown the heck out of Dodge. Or in her case, Newark.
Braden ushered them into his inner sanctum. Holy guacamole, he was a neat freak. His desk sparkled. Seriously, she could see her reflection in the dark brown wood. It wasn’t a large space, but he’d painted the walls a pale yellow to brighten up the room and make it appear larger. On his desk, he had a phone and a laptop computer. Behind it was a credenza where he’d placed a copy machine, and to the left of that sat a tall filing cabinet. Naturally, it all matched.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Braden sat in his cushy black leather swivel chair and motioned for George and her to have a seat across from him.
Not much fun sitting in a plain, non-swivel chair. Once again, she’d have to provide the entertainment. She dropped down next to George and kicked her feet up on Braden’s perfectly clean desk with a loud thud. Oops. She’d forgotten her shoes on the stage.
Braden eyed her naked feet. She thought she had awesome feet, so she didn’t understand why he looked disgusted. Five years ago, she’d tattooed a band of white and yellow daisies around each toe. In total she had fifteen tattoos all over her body. Fifteen different tattoos for the fifteen places she’d lived since she’d turned eighteen.
Now that Portia had gotten engaged, she didn’t have any reason to stay in Michigan, so that would make it sixteen soon.
She gazed at Braden. Nope, no reason to stay at all.
George pushed his chair closer to the desk. Short like a leprechaun, his feet didn’t touch the floor. “As you know, Alexander left Portia and Ryan the mansion in his Will. I’m happy to inform you he also left you two an inheritance as well.”
Lola’s tummy did a cartwheel. As gorgeous as Braden was, no way would she marry him. Besides, she was kind of dating Jon, owner of Acropolis’s competitor.
“Lola? Are you even listening?” Braden asked.
She quickly looked at George then Braden. “I’m not sure. What did you say?”
“Like your sister, Alexander has left you real estate,” George explained.