Night Call (Night Fever Serial Book 2) (3 page)

“Hank can’t possibly think he’s getting a deal.”

Mitch nodded. “I’m agreeing with you. But I’m going to turn down an extra two hundred because the guy’s an idiot?”

“We can do eight hundred,” Johnny said.

Lola turned to him. “Johnny—”

“Mitch, listen to me,” Johnny said, putting his hands on the edge of the desk. “We’ll take it for eight hundred. We’ve got our hearts set on it. But please don’t let Walken drive it any higher. Promise me here, now, as my friend of over twelve years—this is everything I’ve got.”

Mitch sighed. “I can’t promise—”

“Mitch.” Johnny leaned forward. His fingers pressed down until they were white. “Do you really want to see your dad’s place ruined for a little more money? Don’t get greedy, man. Don’t sell out. You know Lola and I will keep your dad’s vision alive.”

Johnny was at the edge of his seat, practically falling forward onto his knees. The last time she’d seen him so impassioned was when he was asking her nineteen-year-old self to quit her self-destructive lifestyle so they could be together. This big-picture excitement was what she needed from him, but it had to trickle down to the routine parts of running a business too.

“Son of a bitch,” Mitch said. “You’d better not let me down.”

“So we have a deal?” Johnny asked, standing.

“Just don’t mention that last part to Barb, all right?” Mitch said. “She finds out I could’ve gotten more money and she’ll have my neck.”

Lola wasn’t sure what to feel. It was what they’d wanted, but that money would cut into their already limited budget.

“I have to tell you, though,” Mitch continued, “the landlord’s wary of the whole thing. His dad dealt with my dad, and our families have done business since opening day. He wants six months’ rent upfront plus a security deposit.”

“What’s that look like?” Lola asked.

“Deposit is thirty grand, and with half a year’s rent you’re looking at over a hundred K.”

Lola and Johnny exchanged glances. That would mean they’d be going forward with less than a hundred thousand to fall back on. It didn’t seem like enough.

“It’s not a problem,” Johnny said.

Lola touched his forearm. “Maybe we should take a minute and think about this.”

“We’ll still have enough,” he said quietly. “It’s not as much as we set aside for renovations, but it’s enough to get started.”

“What about advertising?”

“We’ll worry about that later, once we get some profit coming in.” Lola was about to explain there might not be any profits if they couldn’t get customers in the door, but Johnny cut her off by reaching out to shake Mitch’s hand. “Thanks, man. Really, I mean it.”

“Can’t wait to see what you do with the place. Why don’t you two take the night off? Go do something fun.”

“You’re giving us
another
night?” Lola asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Just one. As a congratulations.” He sat back at his desk. “It could be a while before you both get another night off together.”

They thanked Mitch and headed out to the parking lot together. Time alone was just what they needed. It was what they deserved after everything they’d been through.

Johnny surprised Lola by picking her up and spinning her around. “Can you fucking believe it?” he said, grinning. “We’re doing it. Buying a goddamn bar.”

Lola smiled despite the pit in her stomach. “I think I’m still in shock.”

“Not me. I’ve been ready for years.”

“We should change the name to Hey Johnny,” she joked.

He chuckled, squeezing her. “I wish. Where should we celebrate? And don’t say a bar.”

She also laughed.

“God, I love your laugh,” he said. “Always have.”

“Johnny,” she said, burying her face in his neck. He could still catch her off guard and make her blush. He was happy, and even though she worried, she was happy too. That eased the pit in her stomach a little.

* * * * *

Lola owned one dress for such a special occasion—fitted but not flashy, sheer from her neck to her cleavage, including the sleeves to her elbows. Black, of course. She’d worn it once for Johnny’s kid sister’s college graduation party.

She came out of the bathroom, all fixed up. Johnny pushed hangers around the closet, still in his underwear.

“Babe?” she asked. Normally he was ready in half the time it took her.

“Don’t have anything to wear,” he muttered. “I’ll have to get some new things.”

“What you’ve got is fine, Johnny. You don’t have to dress up.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, up and down. “I’ve never seen that dress before.”

“Yes, you have. I wore it to Natasha’s graduation.”

“Oh.” He turned back to the closet. “Well, I’d call that pretty dressed up. I can’t exactly show up in jeans when you’re wearing that.”

“I can change,” she said. It made no difference to her. She wasn’t even the one who’d chosen the restaurant, an expensive steakhouse in Beverly Hills they’d read about in the paper a few weeks earlier.

“No, don’t. You look too pretty.” He pulled out a checkered, long-sleeved button down. “How’s this? Also what I wore to her graduation.”

“It’s—” She turned toward the kitchen when her phone rang. “That shirt’s great, honey,” she called as she left the room. “You look good in red.”

She found her cell in her purse, and her heart leapt at the unknown number. It couldn’t be him, though. Beau was not allowed to just sneak up on her that way—not when it was so important that she put him behind her. With a quick glance back toward the bedroom, she answered it and held her breath.

“Lola,” there was a pause on the line, “are you there,
ma chatte
?”

She placed the phone over her chest, then pulled it away, worried he’d hear her nervous heartbeat. She went out the front door, closed it quietly behind her and put her cell to her ear again. “What do you want?”

“You haven’t given me an answer,” Beau said.

“I told you no in the car that morning.”

“You discussed it with Johnny?”

She hesitated. Before her first night with Beau, she’d been stronger. She was able to see clearer. She hadn’t told Johnny about Beau’s second offer. If Johnny made her decide again, she had a feeling she knew what her answer would be. It was better not to ask the question at all. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

He made a low, humming noise that reminded her of his mouth between her legs. “Don’t change the subject.”

“It doesn’t matter what Johnny says. The answer is no.”

“Have you bought the bar yet?”

The change of topic took her a moment to register. “Yes. Well, no. We gave our offer, and now it’s just a matter of paperwork.”

“Do you have a lawyer?”

“Johnny’s cousin is one.”

“Johnny’s cousin,” Beau repeated to himself. “Who will represent you?”

“What? There is no me. There’s only me and Johnny.”

“You need representation too.”

“No, I don’t. And even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

They were quiet a moment. She pictured Beau in his office at the end of the day. He could’ve been at home, but he sounded tense. Maybe Lola brought that out in him, though. It seemed they were frequently on the verge of arguing.

“I’ll have my lawyer contact you,” he said finally. “He’d keep only your best interests in mind. My treat.”

“I can’t go to Johnny with my own lawyer. That’s absurd.”

“Are you buying the place together?”

“Yes.”

“So your name will go on everything?”

“Yes, but it’s Johnny’s baby.”

“How will you share the profits? Fifty-fifty? What if you break up?”

“Break up?”

“That’s why you need someone looking out for you.”

“I have someone,” Lola said softly. “Johnny. We aren’t breaking up.”

“I just want you to be careful. Smart. You’ve never had money like this to complicate things.”

She’d only had the money a few days, but that was turning out to be true. Before Beau had walked into their lives, things had been simple. Now, every day came with a new problem that was above her and Johnny’s heads and new tension between them.

“Money’s supposed to make life easier,” she said.

“It doesn’t. People think that, but they don’t realize there are downsides to wealth.”

“Are you calling to talk me out of taking the deal?”

“So you’re considering it then?”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.” Or had she? Was she considering it? A night like the one they’d had could never be duplicated. It also couldn’t be forgotten. It was tempting enough to wonder what would even happen during a second night, much less actually consider it.

“I should go,” she said.

“Don’t sign anything without having someone read it over first.”

Lola suppressed a smile. “So that’s why you called. To hound me about a lawyer?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “No. Not really. Your voice—I missed it. Has anyone ever told you how comforting it can be?”

He’d spoken it softly, as if it were their private secret. They had enough secrets, though. Having breakfast in bed—it felt like a secret. Her willingly opening her legs to him? Secret. They were things that couldn’t leave the presidential suite. And this conversation needed to end before it went any further. “Beau—”

“I wish you were here now to whisper to me.”

Lola looked over her shoulder again. She remembered him whispering to her, not the other way around. Telling her how it felt to be inside her, how tight and hot and wet she was. Her heart clenched longingly. With Beau, it didn’t take much to draw her in.

“What…what would you have me say?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t have you say anything. What fun is that? I’d want you to say whatever comes to you.”

That ache returned between her legs—or maybe it’d never left. It still hadn’t been taken care of. “‘Goodbye, Beau.’ That’s what comes to me.”

“I won’t stop until I get the answer I want,” he warned. “Talk to him.”

She shook her head, ended the call and looked around the courtyard. The complex was muted by dusk. Beau’s voice was more intense on the phone. Bolder. Huskier. He’d said “whisper to me” suggestively, with promise, as if he knew she would be doing it soon.

“Beau,” she whispered aloud to the silence. She felt his weight on her again, his chest to her back, slick with a sheen of their sweat. His mouth at her ear, his hot breath, his even hotter words.

The apartment door opened behind her, and she whirled around so fast she almost lost her footing.

Johnny held his arms wide open. “How do I look?” he asked, showing off his shirt.

Her heart raced as though she’d been caught doing something wrong. “You look,” she cringed, but the words were already falling out of her mouth, “like a million bucks.”

Chapter Three

Lola stepped out of the car as the door opened for her. She was greeted by the valet’s smile. Johnny came around the hood to meet her.

“Sorry about the car,” Johnny said to the young man. “It’s old. Probably a lot shittier than you’re used to.”

The valet shrugged. “It’s fine. You should see my ride.”

Johnny nodded ardently at that. “Yeah. Cool.”

Lola waited until they were out of earshot, just before they entered the steakhouse. “Don’t apologize for something as stupid as our car,” she said. Their car had seen better days, and it was a stick shift, but it didn’t merit an apology. “Like the valet really gives a crap about anything other than his tip.”

“Oh, I’ll give him one hell of a tip. Just don’t want anyone thinking we’re going to dine and dash or something.”

“Nobody thinks that. Do I really look that out of place?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You make it sound like I shouldn’t eat here because I’m not wearing a designer dress.”

“All right, all right,” he said with exasperation. He took her hand. “You made your point.”

Lola was beginning to see how a sudden influx of cash could go to someone’s head—except that in her mind, there was no cash. It was almost all promised away. “Sometimes it’s good to let people underestimate you,” she said.

The hostess greeted them warmly, smiling as she complimented Lola’s dress. Lola tried not to look smug as they were led to their table. “We’re so honored you’ve chosen to dine here this evening,” the woman said. “We hope it exceeds your expectations. If you need anything at all, please let your server or me know.”

“We should hire her,” Johnny said when she excused herself. “It’s nice to make your guests feel special.”

“We can start calling Quartz ‘Mr. Quartz.’”

“And we’ll replace all the glasses with crystal ware.”

“And we’ll finally put in a new toilet so it doesn’t make that gurgling noise anymore.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Johnny said, laughing.

The waiter was just as friendly, making small talk as he laid black napkins in their laps.

“We’ll take the most expensive champagne you’ve got,” Johnny said without even opening the menu.

“Johnny,” Lola said. “That’s not necessary.”

He glanced from the waiter to her. “We can afford to splurge for once in our lives, Lola.”

“But it’s champagne. Really. It’ll be gone by the end of the night. Let’s get a nice, reasonable bottle of red wine.”

“Shall I come back?” the man asked.

“No,” Johnny said. “Bring the champagne.”

Lola looked up at the server. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Certainly.”

“No champagne,” Lola said firmly while he walked away. “It’s excessive.”

“Listen to me.” Johnny leaned forward on his elbows, twining his fingers. “One
million
dollars. You comprehend that, right?”

She blinked slowly. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Okay, but—”

“And it’s not a million anymore,” Lola continued. “Once this deal goes through and we have to pay that rent, we’ve got barely anything left.”

“It’s still a ton of money, Lo. More than we’ve ever had. I’ll talk to the landlord and get us out of paying upfront.”

“It’s not a ton of money. I told you we needed all the extra help we could get. Aside from the big things, there’s maintenance, and wages and all the other expenses that come with owning a business.” Lola’s breath wasn’t coming as fast as she needed. The reality of their commitment came crashing through the dream, right down onto her shoulders. “Honestly, a million’s not even enough for what we just agreed to.”