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Evangeline tipped her glass toward Natasha in toast. "To always getting what you want."
"And to hopefully getting exactly what you want," Natasha murmured.
9
Beau sealedup the last of the boxes and sat back on his heels. Done. He was done. His mom's life—everything she had collected and treasured in her life was now defined by cardboard boxes and packing tape. Going to the funeral hadn't made her death real to him, but this...
Now it felt final.
Shit. What was he going to do with it all? He stood up and walked around, wandering into each room, silently saying goodbye to his mother and to his childhood home. They had made so many memories inside these walls, but he couldn't keep it. He didn't need to be reminded of her cancer, of her suffering.
No, this was definitely the best thing to do. He needed to sell the house and start his life over.
With one final check over the house to make sure he didn't miss anything, he locked up and sat on the front step. Pulling out his phone, he brought up the details of a local Realtor and called. After a brief conversation, he set up for them to meet for lunch on Friday; he had to get the ball rolling on this.
Standing up, he stretched his arms above his head and felt the vertebrae in his back pop. Shifting boxes all day was just as much of a workout as helping someone out at the gym. Unlocking his car, he got in and started things up. He should stop and get some food before he headed back to John's. He drove on autopilot, navigating in the general direction of the local Thai place, but found himself turning on the I-5, heading north toward Hollywood.
Fuck.
Oh, good, he was coming up on an exit. But instead of pulling off, he simply watched it go by. If anything, his foot depressed the accelerator even more.
"What are you doing?" he asked himself. "Vee clearly doesn't want to see you."
The thing was, he wanted to see her. So badly. He looked at the time on the dashboard clock. He would be getting into West Hollywood around eight if there wasn't too much traffic. He should be able to get in and speak to her without interrupting too much of her night. No! What was he thinking? He shouldn't be going at all. She'd made herself pretty clear before about not wanting to speak with him.
And yet...
And yet that only spurred him on.
Turning up the volume on his sound system, he tried to run through all the different scenarios that could play out when he got there. The first and most likely scenario would be Evangeline removing him bodily from the club. He bet she'll get that big bastard Max to do it too. The second scenario involved him walking in there, explaining himself the best he could, at which point Vee would listen impassively and then have him removed bodily from the club. The third, and most unlikely thing to happen, would be Vee listening to him, forgiving him, and they would start getting to know each other again.
He laughed despite himself. That situation would never play out, but, hey, a guy can dream. He began to hit the traffic of West Hollywood, cursing every second of it. He concentrated on the road, navigating his way through the traffic-congested streets until he found himself cruising along Santa Monica Boulevard and looking for a free parking space that didn't exist.
He had to do half a dozen laps before he found somewhere to park, and even then, he had to flip off the driver of a BMW to do it. Beau tried to get his bearings when he got out of the car, figuring out he needed to head east for at least another five blocks before he could get to the club. Making sure his car was locked, he began walking.
The sidewalks were clogged with people—people who were rude and pushy and too preoccupied to even say they were sorry.Thiswas what he hated about West Hollywood: the fucking people. Picking up the pace, he soon found himself standing outsideTemptation. Its shiny black door beckoned him inside, and when he pulled on the handle, he watched the dim light spill out onto his feet. Sucking in a breath, he stepped inside.
"We're not open for another hour," a girl said as she stepped up to the bar. Her jaw was working like she was chewing gum. "You'll have to wait outside."
"Err," he said. "I was hoping to speak to Evangeline. Is she around?"
The girl turned around, giving Beau a once-over. "Are you a supplier?"
"No," came a voice. "He's not."
Beau looked over toward the person who had spoken and felt the smile on his lips. "Vee," he said.
"Evangeline," she corrected sternly. Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked, "What are you doing here, Beau?"
"I came... to talk to you."
"About what?"
He glanced around at the other waitresses that had stopped to listen in to their conversation. "Can we have this conversation in private?"
She studied him for a moment, then jerked her head in the direction of the hallway he'd seen her disappear into the other night. He followed her tentatively, trying to ignore the sway of her hips. He remembered those hips. He remembered everything about her body, from the way she sighed his name when he kissed her behind the ear, to the way her whole body trembled when he brought her to climax. He shouldn't be thinking about this though.
She showed him into an office lined with filing cabinets. In the middle was a desk and two chairs.
