Page 107 of Whatever Lola Wants

While Anna chortled with glee, Ginger shook her head. “Well, we’ve cried, wished harm on the no-good son of a bitch, plotted his humiliation, and eaten pie and ice cream. What’s left?”

Anna and Lola looked at each other. “Chick flick,” they said in unison, and as Ginger grabbed the remote, Lola sipped her wine and felt sad and heartbroken and incredibly, unbelievably lucky.

Thankfully, trying to clear her schedule so she could leave on Wednesday night for the wedding made for such busy days that Lola barely had time to think about anything, much less Simon. And if he snuck in to her thoughts here and there, well, there was enough to do that it was easy to push him out again.

But when she slept, she had no defenses. He crept into her dreams, loving her, wanting her, needing her. It was so real she could smell him, feel his skin, his breath. She woke smiling, savoring the moment of joy when she thought he was in the bed next to her, and she’d roll over and reach for him.

And when all she found were cool sheets and an empty bed, she’d remember, and it was like it was like a fresh wound all over again.

So she tried not to sleep.

By Wednesday afternoon, she was so tired, so gritty with fatigue, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she started hallucinating. But her desk was clear, and her bags were packed and ready when the car arrived to take her to the airport.

She handed her small rollaway and the long garment bag that held her dress to the driver, then got in the car. She knew Simon had made the company jet available to them for the flight to northern Michigan. Originally, they’d all been scheduled to fly up together, but Anna had told her a work problem was keeping Simon and Grant tied up in Chicago until at least Friday morning, so the jet would take Anna, Lola, Ginger and a couple of Anna’s friends who were attending the wedding Wednesday night, then return to pick up the rest of the wedding party on Friday.

Lola didn’t know if the work problem was real, or something Anna concocted to give Lola some extra time before she had to deal with Simon. Either way, she was grateful not to be trapped with him in a small plane, forced to make polite chitchat. She knew she’d have to deal with him, and her own reaction to seeing him, before the weekend was over. But she was grateful for the reprieve.

They arrived at the airport, the car detouring around the main terminal to the private hangers. Lola looked out the window as they pulled up next to the sleek private jet. Anna stood at the steps of the plane, her face brightening as the car pulled up.

She hurried over to open the door. “You’re here!”

Lola chuckled. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“Of course not.” Anna flashed a smile and murmured a thank you to the driver as he unloaded the bags. She wrapped an arm around Lola’s shoulders. “You look terrible,” she murmured.

“Gee, thanks.”

Anna colored slightly. “That’s not—I just meant you look tired. Have you been sleeping okay?”

Lola shrugged as they started up the steps. “Not really. It’s been a busy week.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Anna. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“I still hate him.”

Lola wrapped her arm around Anna’s waist. “I know. But this is your wedding. I don’t want you to worry about me this weekend.”

Anna shot her a disbelieving look, and Lola laughed. “Okay, impossible. But don’t worry about me too much. I order you, as your best friend, maid of honor, and someone who knows how to stick needles in people, to not let my drama get in the way of you having the wedding of your dreams.”

“Did you have to bring up the needles?”

“Anna.”

Anna sighed. “I promise. As long as you promise not to wallow.”

“I’ve been wallowing all week. Believe me, I’m over it.”

When she stepped on the plane and smiled at the trio of women already on board, she almost believed it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Simon was having the week from hell.

It turned out Everybody’s Favorite Client actually was being stalked, which meant he and Grant had to coordinate extra protection not only for Howard’s stay in Chicago, but for his return to L.A. as well. With most of his people out on other assignments, Simon had had to take on some of the personal protection duties until they could make other arrangements, which meant he spent most of his week standing outside a hotel room, holding car doors, and scouting locations that couldn’t possibly be made safe. That the client was an entitled jerk was icing on the cake.

But at least it kept him busy. Because when he relaxed, all he could think about was how he’d fucked up.

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