Last Call Page 19
“When I told you I didn’t care about the promotion, I was serious. I’ll be fine. And it’ll feel good to be honest, to tell them. But Angel . . .”
“My parents know about this.”
That manages to surprise me. “Really? Did your dad agree to change the terms?”
“No. Business before pleasure. He’s still convinced he’d do a better job of getting Angel profitable more quickly. But seriously, Ada, I don’t care. You have to believe me.”
I should have believed him three weeks ago.
“I do.”
“And fair warning, your dad knows too.”
My jaw drops.
“My dad? For real?”
“For real. Karlene gave me his number. And in case you’re wondering, he gave me his blessing. After quite a bit of explaining, I’ll have you know.”
“And your mother’s too,” he adds.
If my heart could melt any more for this man, it would.
“Nice people. I think I’ll like my in-laws.”
I hold up my hand, finally letting myself bask in the glow of what’s happened. In the glow of being with him. “We are really engaged, Hayden.”
He kisses me again, and it feels perfectly right.
“Mrs. Tanner. I like the sound of it.”
“Mmmm, I don’t know,” I tease.
“Mrs. Flemming-Tanner?”
I shake my head. “Still not quite right.”
Hayden seems disappointed, but he nods. “It’s OK if you don’t want to take my name. Or do you want me to take yours? I can do that. Flemming is a fine name.”
“That’s an intriguing idea but, nah. I have a better idea.”
“I can only imagine.” He holds my hands. “Lay it on me.”
“Mrs. Sexy Eyes. That’s what I’d like to go by.”
“Done.”
His laugh fills the air of this place where our story started. A story that’s still at the very beginning.
Epilogue
Hayden
The Black and White Ball, one of the city’s most coveted events, isn’t something I’d been particularly excited to attend in the past. But tonight? One look at Ada in her dress, and I cursed the fact that we were attending with my parents. Their driver came for us so they could get to know Ada better. In facilitating the revelation that Henry was reporting back to my dad, not to spy on me but to ensure I was doing well, she’s worked miracles in our family already. And while she seems to have charmed them nearly as much as Henry, who adores my fiancée, there was a little . . . incident at the party, which made for a very uncomfortable ride home.
“Did you see his face?” Ada says as soon as we’re in the elevator of my, our, building.
I’m thinking of a lot of things now that we’re alone together. The senator’s face isn’t one of them. “I did. And told you we were going to get caught.”
Ada makes a strangling motion with her hands.
“You told me? Oh my God, are you serious right now? Who told you like fifty times a storage room is not a very good place to fool around?”
“I thought it was a fine place,” I admit. “Until the drunken fool attempted to come into our closet.”
“Hardly our closet. What if it was one of your parents?”
We get out on our floor and head toward the door. I’m in such a hurry to get inside, I nearly fumble the keys. Finally, it swings open, and I pull her inside.
“They’ve been going to that ball for so many years, my parents know exactly where the restrooms are.”
The door is barely closed before I ask one very simple question.
“Feeling feisty?”
Because after the tease of what we did in that closet, before I got caught with my pants down, I am beyond ready. In fact, my lioness only has to look at me before I spin her around and unzip the beautiful black ball gown. Way too much fabric. She has to step out of the thing. And because I saw her get dressed earlier, I’m prepared for the bright red bra and thong. In fact, I’ve been visualizing both all night.
Before Ada can object, I pick her up and carry her into our bedroom.
As much as I want to see her, I want to feel her more. So without any pomp and circumstance, I tear off her undies and remove every stitch of my own clothing too.
“Take off your bra.”
My voice sounds thick and harsh, and I’m about to apologize when Ada takes it off. And then reaches for me with as much aggression as I’m feeling.
She pulls my hair, hard, and spreads her legs.
I’m in the mood to comply.
Always, with Ada.
Her hips thrust to meet my tongue, her moans of pleasure reminding me to do this every fucking day if that’s what Ada wants.
But I don’t want her to come like this. Not yet.
Spinning her over, I position myself, thinking of the way she taunted me with her come-hither looks all night, get in return.
Ada props herself up on her knees, and I grab her hair nearly as hard as she tugged on mine. A rush of damp heat welcomes me as I glide into her from behind.
But when I start to move, it’s my formidable fiancée who sets the pace. Crashing her backside into me, she demands more.
So I give it to her.
I relax my hold on her hair and reach around to ensure she gets off, because I’m not going to last long here.
“Jesus, Hayden.”
“Not even close,” I say just before she lets go.
I do the same, vowing to make it up to her. Nearly shaking for the effort, I pull out and collapse beside her.
The woman I’m going to marry.
“I love you.”
She snuggles close.
“I love you too.”
The sweet silence between us stretches into minutes, both of us just content to be together, to revel in the glow of what we have.
“I had fun tonight,” she says. I kiss her in response.
“I did too. You know how to charm a guy’s parents for sure.”
She tsks. “Clearly not as well as you. Eleanor was practically eating out of your hands.”
My mother scored Ada’s boss a ticket, and I used the opportunity to thank her, profusely, for everything she’s done. She took over the case herself to ensure we aren’t delayed . . . according to Ada, it’s almost unheard of. But as she reiterated tonight, our drug is “one of the most important I’ve seen come across my desk in years. It deserves to be out there.”
Out there, meaning approved, according to Ada. And being that Eleanor is the one doing the approval . . . Ada says it’s all but a slam dunk. Just last week she saw it pop up on the docket for approval on the Office of Drug Evaluation’s approval list. Since ours is a first-in-class, it needs dual approval from both entities, but Ada says she’s never seen one give approval and not the other. Usually they operate in tandem.
Which means it’s only a matter of time.
“Eleanor just needed a bit of a reminder of who should get that grade-level increase next week.”
Ada snuggles in closer, which is just fine by me.
“I’m just glad to still be up for it. I’m fine with whatever happens.”
“Because you have the real prize right here in bed?”
Her laugh fills my saved soul.
“I wasn’t going to put it quite like that but . . .”
I roll on top of her, pinning my fiancée down until she relents.
“Admit it. You fell in love with me the very first time we met. I think you dropped that bracelet intentionally so I’d have to put it on you.”
She swats my flexed arm, hard enough that it stings.
“Hey!”
“You are such an ass. You know I couldn’t stand you at first.”
I can see just enough from the light streaming in through the door to find my mark. Leaning down, I kiss her neck first and then move lower, insisting she tell the truth.
“You thought I was hot. Admit it.”
And lower.
“Did not.”
“Which is exactly why—” I keep kissing, “—you taunted me in that bar.”
I hold my kisses hostage until she at least admits the truth. I’m poised and ready for round two, and Ada knows it.
“Did not.”
I lick my lips. “Mr. Sexy Eyes?”
“OK, I admit it. I thought you were cocky and sexy, and I totally wanted to tear all of your clothes off every time we were together. Happy?”
I don’t think she realizes quite how happy I am with her.
But, as Devon says, talk is cheap.
I prefer to show her instead.
And baby makes three. Witness a very special occasion between Hayden and Ada in a bonus scene! Get it here.
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Billion Dollar Date Sneak Peek
Enzo
“Don’t look now. Three o’clock.”
Which is the one thing Hayden could have said to guarantee I do look. That’s human nature for you. Or at least it’s my nature. Someone tells me not to do something, and you can guaran-damn-tee I’ll do it anyway. And worse, he knows it.
Even in the dimly lit restaurant, I can see Giovanna clearly, and our eyes meet because she’s staring straight at me.
“Shit,” I mutter, looking away. “She caught me looking. There’s no way she’s not coming over now.”
Hayden makes a sound that I can easily decipher after more than ten years of his antics. It’s somewhere in between better you than me and I’m going to thoroughly enjoy this.
“If I can’t navigate this,” I whisper as the restaurant owner’s daughter starts sidestepping through the tables to reach us, “say goodbye to Wednesday dinner. She’s getting more and more aggressive.”
Hayden’s drink pauses midair. Eyes narrowed, he waits to see if I’ll forgo diplomacy just for the sake of sticking it to him. It would serve him right for deliberately attracting the attention of the woman who’s been pursuing me for months.
But I’m no idiot—if I mess this up, we’ll lose out on the best Italian food in Tribeca.
“Evening, gentlemen.”
Regular patrons of Faustini’s are used to the owner’s daughter. But the two tourist couples sitting next to us openly stare at her. I don’t blame them. Giovanna Faustini is gorgeous in a way that turns heads, from her dark hair to her signature red lipstick. She’s a razor-sharp attorney who has nothing to do with her father’s business, yet she always seems to make an appearance on the one day a week Hayden and I frequent this small restaurant. It’s not a secret we eat here every Wednesday. When the press figured it out, we nearly had to find a new weekly dinner spot.
“Hi, G,” I say.
“Good evening, Miss Faustini. You’re looking lovely, as usual.” Hayden’s playing with fire, encouraging her with his tone. I warn him with a look, but he doesn’t take the hint.
“Congratulations on the Merrick settlement. Well done.”
Hayden hasn’t lost his touch with the ladies. He could charm the habit off a nun.
Giovanna smiles, but not at my friend.
She’s stunning. Smart. But nothing stirs in me as she flashes her pearly white teeth—a lovely contrast to her red lipstick. I could easily picture those lips wrapped around me, but still, nothing.
“Thank you.” She waves her hand as if such a high-profile victory were commonplace. The opposing counsel is considered the best in the business, his track record, off the charts. “So, Enzo.”
Here it comes.
“I hear you’ve just been approved in Switzerland. You must be thrilled!”
It’s obvious the comment is addressed only to me, never mind the fact that my business partner sits across from me.
“Quite. Hayden’s going there in a few weeks for the launch.”
My tone clearly communicates that the conversation is over. Most people respond to that tone, but G, as she insists I call her, is a pit bull. She won’t be put off so easily.
“Maybe a celebration is in order?” she asks. “This weekend, perhaps?”
Hayden bites the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing.
Asshole.
I lift my wine, the beginning of a polite but firm dismissal. “Unfortunately, I’m out of town this weekend.”
“Oh? Somewhere good, I hope?” she says, dropping into an accent she sometimes pulls out like a pair of expensive shoes. She might be second-generation Italian, but G was born here, not in Italy.
“Home,” I say. “For the opening of my brother’s restaurant. Please give your father my compliments on the risotto. It’s especially good tonight.”
I don’t intend to answer any follow-up questions, so I bring the wine glass to my mouth and take a long sip, pointedly shifting my attention to Hayden. Finally, after an excruciating few seconds, she walks away.
“Home?”
Screw a sip. I might need another glass.
“I thought you said you weren’t going?”
The bell over the door rings, catching my attention. The old-school bell is a nice, kitschy touch—a sign that despite the red velvet cushions and chandeliers, Faustini doesn’t take himself too seriously.
Except he definitely takes his daughter seriously. Did she leave? Did I offend her with my borderline rudeness?
One of these days, I’m going to piss off Giovanna enough that she complains to her father. And I really, really don’t want that to happen.
Wednesday night at Faustini’s is the bright spot in a week filled with work and more work. According to everyone I know, I work too much. They’re not wrong, but I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, which is the exact reason I planned to miss my brother’s opening. I really can’t afford to take time off, but the guilt train conducted by my mother and occupied by my brothers and sister, not to mention Hayden, has been gaining steam these past two weeks.
“I wasn’t. Changed my mind.”
Hayden takes a bite of mushroom risotto and groans. His overdramatic enjoyment of food hasn’t changed a bit since college, except now his performance involves slightly more refined food than the ramen noodles we lived on back then.
“Seems kind of an extreme way to avoid a date with G.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her coming from the kitchen. I’m relieved that I didn’t drive her away after all, and even more so that she doesn’t look our way.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
He cocks his head. “And maybe you should just do what every other red-blooded male in this restaurant wants to do with her.”
“Everyone except you.”
Hayden can’t agree with a mouthful of risotto in his mouth, but I know it’s true. The fact that my best friend and business partner is now a married man surprises everyone, me most of all. He’s a far cry from the sex-obsessed frat boy I befriended. Sometimes it’s still hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that he’s a father. And a damn good one at that.
Hayden mumbles an affirmation and continues eating.
I lean back, sneaking another look. Why don’t I take Giovanna’s not-so-subtle invitation? I haven’t been on a date in two months, though not for a lack of prospects.
The kind of money Hayden and I have accumulated these past few years tends to attract women. Lots of them. Just not the right types.
“No, thanks.” The decision is an easy one. I enjoy her father’s cooking too much.
“Your mom will be happy you’re going home.” Finally dropping G as a topic of conversation, Hayden smiles. “Tell her I’m sorry to miss it.”
“You do know Tris is the one who’s opening the restaurant, right?” I say, seeing the subject away from my mother. Though he’s not wrong.
Mom was appalled to learn I didn’t plan on attending the opening.
To her, family is everything. Work is, at best, a very distant second, multibillion-dollar business or not. Tris
tano’s decision to follow in the footsteps of our father, a pizza shop owner, and open DeLuca’s II Ristorante is a big deal.
“Congratulate him for me,” Hayden says. “Don’t forget to tell everyone I would have been there if I wasn’t out of town. And be sure to mention I was the one who reminded you that work and success mean nothing without family and friends.”
I roll my eyes, deciding not to explain that he had nothing to do with my decision. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m going. But seriously, you of all people should have been on my side. With the vodka problem and all, work is crazy right now.”
“No business,” Hayden reminds me.
It’s been our one rule since we first started these weekly dinners. We talk business 24/7, but not on Wednesday nights.
I finish my wine and lift my chin to the waitress to bring another drink.
“No business,” I agree, doing my best to shove thoughts of vodka and formulas out of my mind. “I’ll tell them,” I add, looking forward to seeing my family even though I already know I’m in for a tongue-lashing for having stayed away so long. “But if I don’t come back, you know where to find me.”
“At the bottom of Lake Shohola. You Italians scare me sometimes.”
All jokes aside, while I might not be wearing concrete boots by the end of the weekend, there is zero chance I’ll make it out of Bridgewater unscathed.
Keep reading Billion Dollar Date by downloading here.
Also by Bella Michaels
Overruled by Love
* * *
Last Call
* * *
Billion Dollar Date
* * *
My Foolish Heart
About the Author
Bella Michaels is the pen name of a steamy contemporary romance author. While not writing historical, paranormal and contemporary romance, Bella loves dreaming up new sassy heroines and alpha heroes for readers to enjoy. Firmly Team Gryffindor, Stark and Reylo, she lives with her husband and two pre-teens in chilly Pennsylvania.