Night Call (Night Fever Serial Book 2) (4 page)

“Lola, honey. Calm down. I’m not asking to take a vacation, all I’m saying is for this one night, we can afford to—”

“Do you think I fucked a stranger for a bottle of champagne?”

The tables around them got quiet, but Lola kept her eyes on Johnny as her words hung in the air.

“Christ,” he said. “You really believe that’s what I think? That might be the shittiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

She covered her mouth. “Oh, God. You’re right.”

“You can quit staring,” Johnny said to someone behind her. “Nothing to see here.”

Lola’s phone chimed with a text message. She pulled it out to see the same unknown number that she’d answered earlier.

You’re still here with me. Say yes.

“Who is it?” Johnny asked.

“No one.” She put the cell away. “Brenda about this weekend.” Lola stood. “I just need a minute alone.”

“No. Sit.”

She looked at the table and sat back in her chair.

“The last few days, you’ve left the room in the middle of our conversations more times than I can count. What’s going on?”

Sometimes it was all just too much to take in. Johnny was so happy about the bar. She was happy for him. She couldn’t seem to get further than that.

While they’d been seated at the kitchen table Sunday night, working on their plan, she’d glanced up once to find Johnny staring at her. She knew what was on his mind, but she was too afraid to bring it up. What did he think happened that night? Was the truth better or worse than his imagination?

“Hey,” Johnny said, calling her back from the memory. “Forget about the champagne. What’re you thinking right now?”

“I feel guilty,” she said quietly. “You’re hurting. And it’s my fault.”

“No. We went into this together.” He craned his neck to catch her eye. “Didn’t we, Lo? Start to finish, you and me. Have I given you any reason to think I’m hurt?”

“You’ve been so supportive.” He had been, in his own way. He didn’t judge her or put the blame on her. He was quiet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there for whatever she needed. “Somewhere inside, though, you must be angry.”

He sighed, working his jaw back and forth. “I try not to think about it. I think about the money and us. As long as I focus on you and me and what’s ahead of us, I’m okay.”

She tried not to think of it either, but Beau’s grip on her—his large, enveloping hands physically on her body but also the unwavering way he demanded her attention—would flash over her without warning. Sometimes that was the real reason she had to leave the room. Johnny had been so calm about it all, but his lack of reaction was beginning to worry her. “If you thought about it,” she said, “how would it make you feel?”

“Crazy. Hurt.” He looked away for one quick second. “And yes, angry. But none of that is directed at you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Those feelings will go away, I just need a little time.”

“If you had a second chance at the money, would you take it?”

“You mean would I have said yes, knowing what I know now?” He spun his water glass on the table. “I can’t really answer that, babe. I don’t know what you went through. I mean, look at what we did today. I never thought handing over that much money would be one of the best moments of my life, but there it is. Even though we didn’t yet—I already feel like I finally own something. And that something will mean a better life for my girl.”

She pressed her palms together in her lap. “That’s not what I was asking.”

“What then?”

The damp spot on the tablecloth grew while Johnny absentmindedly played with his water glass. She’d decided not to bring it up for a reason. The plan was that she’d never see Beau again, but his voice was still in her ear. He expected her to say yes. To submit to him another night. “Never mind,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Said anything about what? Look at me.”

She met his puzzled eyes. “He made me another offer, Johnny.”

“Who?”

“You know who.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I told him no.”

“He made you another
offer
?” He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. “I don’t understand. When?”

“The morning after, when I was getting out of the car.”

He dropped both forearms on the table and fixed his attention on her. “That was days ago. Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“Worse?” he asked, raising his voice. “That’s not fair. Have I been anything other than completely understanding through all of this?”

“You’ve been amazing,” she said, her head lowered.

“If anyone has secrets, it should be you and me. Not you and him.”

“It wasn’t a secret, I just—”

“Don’t. Stop.”

She lifted her eyes again.

He leaned in. “I don’t think you
understand
how
understanding
I’ve been. I didn’t go crazy. I haven’t treated you differently since then.” He pointed to his chest. “I don’t deserve to be shut out.”

“You haven’t said no yet,” Lola pointed out.

He sat back against his chair and crossed his arms. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that? What exactly went on that he’d pay another million for you?”

“Johnny,” she exclaimed. His words sent a stabbing pain through her stomach. Apparently, he was just as capable as Beau of making her feel cheap.

“No,” he said. “I want to know. If this is on the table, I need to know what happened that night. What exactly he got for his money. Where he took you.”

Her mouth fell open. “We agreed—”

“I did that for you. You don’t think I want to know the truth? It drives me insane wondering what a million dollars bought that prick.”

“Stop.” Lola’s throat was so thick, she couldn’t catch a breath. “I feel sick.”

“Yeah?” He banged his fist on the table. “Well, so do I.”

“Sir,” the waiter said, hurrying over. “I have to ask you—”

“I knew it,” Johnny said. He threw his napkin on the table and stood. “I’m sorry we’re not good enough for your fifty-dollar steak. We’ll go.”

“I didn’t say that, sir. Absolutely not—we value your business. I was just going to ask you to keep it down.”

“Johnny, just sit,” Lola pleaded.

“I have to get out of here.” He walked away.

“I’m so sorry,” Lola said to the waiter, grasping for her purse from the floor. “I can pay.”

“For what?” he asked. “Bread and water?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled. “You aren’t the first couple to fight before appetizers.”

She thanked him. His graciousness reinforced her idea that people from all walks of life had money, and she and Johnny had as much right to be there as anyone. It was an effort, but she kept her eyes up as she made her way through the tables to the exit.

The valet stood from his station when he saw her.

“Did my boyfriend just come out here?” she asked.

“Guy with the ponytail? He just left.”

“With the car?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lola looked down at her dress and heels. Johnny wasn’t the type to abandon her, which meant he just hadn’t thought of her at all. She wasn’t sure which was worse. No matter how you looked at it, she had no way of getting home, and she wasn’t even wearing clothes she felt comfortable in. That was Johnny’s fault.

“Asshole,” she muttered. She took out her phone to call him. Beau’s text was still on the screen.

You’re still here with me. Say yes.

She read it again.
Here with me
. Their night had gone so fast, it was almost as if it hadn’t happened at all. Except that once in a while, she
was
still there with Beau, reliving their moments together. She’d seen Mayor Churchill on TV that morning and remembered holding Beau’s hand in the crowd at the benefit. On the way to the restaurant earlier, Nirvana had been on the radio, and Lola had hummed along, back at the speakeasy.

She moved her finger to hover over his phone number. It wasn’t long ago they’d talked. With a tap, she could call Beau to come get her. Maybe he still had the hotel room. It shouldn’t have even been an option, but it was—and a luxurious one at that. She knew with certainty that Beau would come, just like she knew he wouldn’t have left her behind in the first place.

She cleared the text and called Johnny instead.

* * * * *

It was after two in the morning when Lola heard noises outside their apartment. She stood from the couch. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” she said before the door was even open. “Where have you been?”

Johnny toed off his shoes and left them by the door. “Thinking.”

“Drinking?” she asked.

“No. Just thinking.”

“I was worried.”

“I know,” he said. “I was also worried. About you.”

“Serves you right for leaving me there,” she said.

“I had to get away before I said something I regretted.”

She fell back onto the couch. “I know.” She’d been angry for the first few hours. The whole cab ride home, she’d been tempted to give the driver the address to Beau’s hotel. If he’d been there, Beau would’ve made sure she was comfortable, and that sounded appealing after the week she’d had. But her anger had turned to concern around midnight. Now she was just glad Johnny was home safely.

He came to her and bent to take her cheeks in his hands. He kissed her. “You’re always so good. So understanding. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Sit, Johnny. We should talk.”

He sat close to her and held her hand. “I know what we agreed on, but if I’m going to consider this, I need to know what happened that night. I can’t send you back in there if I don’t.”

So he
would
send her in to do their dirty work again. Lola rested her elbow on the arm of the couch as she leaned away a little. Even if she’d been fighting the desire to see Beau again, she was disappointed Johnny was fine enough with the first night that he’d let her do a second. She’d worried telling him might make him think she wanted to do it, but apparently he just wanted details. If she were a spiteful person, she’d give them to him. Johnny wasn’t built for details.

“What makes you think I’d do it again?” she asked.

“You brought it up. I figured if you weren’t considering it…you would’ve kept it to yourself.”

“I brought it up because I thought you should know.”

“Yes, right after you brought up money. I hate to admit it, but maybe we are in over our heads.”

“We can still call the whole thing off,” she said. “We don’t have to buy Hey Joe. We could do something else.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head. “You didn’t endure what you did so I could give up before we even got started.”

She swallowed at the word
endure
. It wasn’t the word she would’ve chosen, which was why a second night of it could be dangerous. “I don’t want you to give up. We’ll just have to get creative and take on as many tasks as we can so we don’t have to pay other people.”

He released her hand and put his arm along the back of the sofa. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but a million dollars is a hell of a lot less money than I thought.”

“But it’s not nothing,” she said. “Maybe we could even take out a loan in the beginning.”

“True.”

She waited. “That’s it? ‘True’?”

He pulled on the corner of a cushion but didn’t look away from her. “You keep saying how we need every last dollar. How it’s not enough. And you—you already did it once. We can never take that back. Once the line is crossed, it’s crossed.”

She watched him closely. To her, a second night was not the same as a first night. It meant sinking deeper into Beau and the way she felt when she was with him, but there was no way of explaining that to Johnny. “What are you saying?”

“I guess that if you look at it from a strictly business point of view—this kind of money for a few hours is unheard of. You’d already know what you were in for. We sort of already broke the seal off this deal.”

“Looking at it from a strictly business point of view makes me feel like a prostitute,” she said flatly. He still hadn’t said no. She couldn’t tell if that was a yes. “Is that how you see me?”

A red splotch appeared on Johnny’s neck. “A
prostitute
? God, no.” He got off the couch and kneeled in front of her. He took her stiff, tense hands in his warm ones. “If that’s how you feel, of course we won’t do it. What we have now will be enough.” He kissed the backs of her hands. “How did we even get in this mess?”

“I have no idea,” she said.

Johnny looked at her earnestly. She put a hand on his face.

“Feel better?” he asked, smiling up at her.

She averted her eyes—she didn’t feel better. Beau’s offer had only been on the table a few hours, but she’d already begun to think about how it would be to see him again. Yes, she had an idea of what a second night would have in store, but Beau also had ways of surprising her. The possibilities were endless.

No, the possibilities
would’ve
been endless.

Johnny stood up. They held each other’s gaze a minute. “So it’s decided,” he said, turning.

“Wait, Johnny.” She grabbed his hand.

He looked back at her.

She put her lips to his knuckles. “Johnny,” she whispered. Her hand fit perfectly in his.
Remember this?
A gentle touch to love her. Fingers that had been everywhere on her body, over and over.

His eyes traveled from her face to their hands. “You think this is a good idea?”

“I don’t know.” She pulled him back down to the couch and let go of him to lift her tank top over her head. It left her bare from the waist up. He looked. She leaned over to undo his slacks before climbing onto his lap.

“You…” He kept his eyes on her breasts.

“What, Johnny?” she asked. What did he need? Reassurance of her love? To know if he’d been a better lover than Beau? She grew hungrier by the second. She’d had sex on her mind since she’d left Beau, but she hadn’t wanted to make the first move. “Ask me anything, and I’ll answer.”

He cleared his throat. “He showed you his test results, right?”