Love After War (5 page)

“Didn't you get my text?” he asked.

Crossing over to him, she slapped his smooth cheek with all the fury inside her. “Damn you.”

Adrian rubbed his face and snorted. “Look, I told you to move on. As you can clearly see, I have.”

“And to think I was concerned about you because your mother passed away. I thought . . . Never mind. Enjoy your whores.”

“Just who are you talking to?” one of the women shouted.

“Stalker,” the other called out.

“Stop it,” Adrian said, and nodded toward the door. “I'll handle this.” He gripped Dana's elbow and whispered in her ear, “I was trying to protect you.”

She smiled sardonically, thinking that all she'd done was love him, support him, and hurt for him as he watched his mother die. Dana swiftly kneed him in the family jewels. “Maybe one of those bitches will kiss it and make it better,” she snapped, then dashed to the elevator.

She couldn't wait to get away from Adrian, Los Angeles, and everything else that reminded her of his trifling ass. She was going back to New York City.

Imani watched her friend in breathless disbelief. “I don't get it. If he dropkicked your heart like that, then why do you want to talk to him at all? This is the one time when I'm going to tell you, don't listen to him.” She threw her thumb in Raymond's direction.

“So, this is the thanks I get for taking time off from work and flying halfway across the country to be with you and you're telling folks not to listen to me. Maybe I should—”

“Lean over here and give me a kiss, Dr. Thomas.”

“Hello!” Dana exclaimed as the couple shared a kiss. “I'm still here, sitting at this table with you two. No one wants to witness your PDA anymore.”

Imani rolled her eyes at Dana and Raymond while they laughed. “I don't think either of you are funny. But I will say this—if you do have dinner with him, make sure you go someplace expensive and order caviar.”

“Why would I do that? I don't even like caviar.”

“I know. Just order it and throw it in his face.”

“That's cold, babe,” Raymond said.

Dana shook her head as she rose from the table. “And on that note, I'm out. I have pictures to edit. Thanks for listening, Raymond.”

He smiled and stood to give her a brotherly hug. “Anytime, and don't follow your friend's advice. Tossing caviar at people is never a good idea.”

“I heard that,” Imani shot back.

Dana laughed, then headed for the door. Imani quickly caught up with her friend. “You know, if you simply want a dinner date, I could make that happen for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Dana asked with her hand on the door handle.

“I could hook you up with Ian Kelly.”

Dana rolled her eyes. “Your costar?” Ian Kelly was touted in the media as the next Matthew McConaughey, just without the naked bongos and marijuana. The actor had been voted one of
People
magazine's sexiest men alive, and he stuck to his Southern roots despite his success as an actor. Was he attractive? Yes. But Dana couldn't say she was interested. She hadn't even met him yet; they were scheduled to do a photo shoot in a few days, and by all accounts, he was much less of a diva than Lawrence was and things would probably go well.

“My single, sexy, and sweet costar. You two already have something in common—he rides a motorcycle too. He's grounded because he splits his time between New York and New Orleans. Just think about it.” Before Dana could object, agree, or tell Imani to mind her own business, her friend was on the phone with Ian Kelly. Dana started to bolt and leave Imani to her own devices when her cell phone chimed.

Glancing at the text message, her heart lurched. Dinner tomorrow. Breakfast at Roscoe's in a few hours? Please. A.B

I have plans, she quickly replied. And I haven't agreed to dinner.

But you will. Miss you. Want to see you, badly.

“Okay, Ian,” Imani said. “Raymond, Dana, and I will see you there.”

Dana looked up from her text message. “Did I just hear you commit me to something?”

“Get dressed and get ready for a night on the town,” Imani said with a twinkle in her eye. “Ian told me about this hot club that's having an opening tonight.”

She glanced at her phone. Well, she did tell Adrian she had plans and maybe having dinner with Adrian was a bad idea, despite what Raymond said. “All right,” Dana said. “What time should I be ready?”

Imani looked down at her watch. “Shoot, I forgot to change my watch back to Pacific time since I thought I'd be going back to New York today.”

“It's seven-thirty.”

“All right, be ready at nine,” Imani said as she tossed her cup in the recycling bin.

Dana nodded and then left. If she made it through traffic and got back to the hotel at decent hour, she could get the photos ready for the studio and make herself presentable for a night out with Imani and Ian.
And maybe I won't even think about Adrian.

Adrian sat in his office with his feet kicked up on his desk. He waited to hear if there was a sighting of Richmond and the call girl. When he looked out at the crowd coming into his club, he smiled. Opening night was looking like a success. Just as he was about to head downstairs to check out the scene, his cell phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“It's done,” a voice said. “We have the pictures of Richmond Crawford and the call girl. They're en route to the club now.”

“Cool. Call the police and send the pictures to my Gmail account and to Emily Burke at the
Los Angeles Times
.”

“Got it.”

“And dump the phone after you're done sending the pictures.” Adrian ended the call with a big smile on his face. Now he was ready to bask in the success of his club opening and wake up to headlines of Richmond's arrest. He was sure the news would make it back to New York. When he made it downstairs to the main floor of the club, Adrian was annoyed and surprised to see Richmond, looking a little disheveled, sitting at the far end of the bar.

What the hell?
he thought as he crossed over to him.
Why hadn't the police gotten there yet? Typical LAPD.

“Richmond, glad to see you made it,” Adrian said with forced cheerfulness in his voice.

Richmond whirled around on the bar stool and glared at Adrian. “It's a good thing that I did make it here. What was the big idea?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You put a hooker in the car with me.” Richmond downed the gin and tonic he'd been nursing.

“Wait a minute, I did no such thing. I don't own the car service that picked you up. How do you know the woman was a hooker?”

“The moment she saw the blue lights behind us, she started screaming at the driver about not being able to get caught because she had a pending prostitution case.” Richmond tapped the bar, then rubbed his face. “If this gets out . . . It's bad enough that Solomon was involved with a lunatic and spent years screwing any woman with ovaries. I knew coming to Los Angeles was a mistake.”

Adrian fought back a smirk. “So, how did you all elude the police?”

“She directed the driver here by some back streets. I'm not even sure the cops were after us,” he said as the bartender placed another drink in front of him.

Obviously. I'm firing that fucking driver,
Adrian thought. “So, I guess talking business is off tonight, huh?”

“What the hell do you think?” Richmond's mind flashed back to the scene in the back of the town car. He'd nearly had sex with a hooker. What if that got out? How would that affect the Crawford brand? He was supposed to be the responsible one. And Vivvy. This would be the ammunition she needed to get a huge divorce settlement.

He looked out on the crowd. Though his mind was clicking with thoughts of the huge mistake he'd just made, Richmond told Adrian he'd listen to his plan.

“This is a nice lounge. I see you draw a great crowd.”

“People know I create excellent places to hang out. Stars can come in and not get hassled. The working man can come in and get treated like a star.” Adrian snapped for his bartender, a shapely blonde dressed in a seventies-style white halter jumpsuit.

“Hey, A. B., what can I get for you?” she asked with a toothy smile.

Richmond focused on the bartender's breasts, then quickly chided himself. Breasts started his problems tonight.

“The usual and refill my friend's drink.”

She glanced at Richmond and smiled. “And what can I get for you, handsome?”

“Umm, gin and tonic,” he said.

“Top shelf,” Adrian said, his special code for
make it extra strong
. With all of the photographers outside the club, someone would surely get a shot of drunken Richmond, which would add to the story. There was a silver lining.

“You got it,” she said, then started making the drinks. For Adrian, a glass of orange juice and more gin than tonic for Richmond.

“How are things going with the hotel?” Adrian asked.

“What?” he asked, still distracted. “Will be an amazing feat if we get it done on time. I don't know who's worse to work with, Dad or Solomon.”

Adrian cringed inwardly when Richmond said
Dad.
What made Solomon and Richmond Crawford worthy of their father's love while he and his mother were cast off from the family? “Why did you all decide to build in Los Angeles after all of these years? There's already plenty of luxury properties here.”

“I asked that same question, but this is my father's pet project,” Richmond said. “Which is odd, when my mother was alive, she hated Los Angeles and refused to entertain expanding to the West Coast—even after she retired.”

Adrian folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on the bar, watching the door. “Interesting,” he said absentmindedly.

“Why do you care, though?” Richmond asked as he followed Adrian's pose. “If we partner with you, all you have to worry about is keeping the club at the hotel packed like this.”

“That's . . .” Adrian's voice trailed off when he saw Dana walk through the door with actress Imani Thomas, some tall dude, and freaking Ian Kelly. And Kelly had the nerve to have his arm about his woman's shoulders. And Dana was smiling as he whispered something in her ear. What in the blue hell was going on? These were her plans. Oh, hell no! Adrian was not about to watch Dana have a date in his damned club. Of course, the thought of her being with another man anywhere made him angry, sad, and disappointed. He couldn't have expected her to carry a torch for him for two years, though.

“What's wrong?” Richmond asked, taking note of Adrian's silence and following his gaze to the people who'd just entered the club. “Wow, that's the photographer Solomon tried to hire to work on our family book. No wonder she turned us down. A hotel company must be boring subject matter when you're hanging out with Hollywood stars.”

“Family book?”

Richmond nodded as he accepted his drink from the comely bartender. “Another big idea by Dad. Said he wants to show that we're a family business, and no matter how big the Crawford empire is, family is the most important thing.”

Between listening to Richmond and watching Dana flirt with Ian Kelly, Adrian felt ill. He gulped his orange juice and wished there was vodka in it. He turned to Richmond. “Excuse me for one minute.” Rising from the bar stool, he crossed over to Dana and her crew. On the way over, he stopped one of the waiters and took a bottle of champagne from his tray. Adrian stood in front of Dana and set the bottle on the table. “Welcome to Allure,” he said, attempting to sound jovial. “I'm the owner and I'd like to offer you a complimentary bottle of bubbly.”

“Thank you,” Imani replied.

“Adrian,” Dana said.

“Adrian?” Imani furrowed her brows in confusion.

“This is your place?”

“Yes, Dana,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Had you told me your plans included coming here, I would've rolled out the red carpet for you.” Adrian glanced at Ian, who had his arm around Dana's shoulders, and sneered.

“You need to do more than that, jackass,” Imani muttered, causing her husband to give her a cautioning look as he squeezed her hand.

“Had I known this was your spot, I would've suggested we go someplace else,” Dana said coolly.

“I'm glad you and your friends are here,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Thanks,” Ian said as he took the bottle of champagne and passed it to Imani and Raymond. “Let's dance.”

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. She and Ian rose from the table and brushed past Adrian to get to the dance floor. While he watched Dana bumping and grinding on the dance floor, Adrian saw red. Well, green actually. He was jealous beyond words as he saw his woman holding Ian tightly, just like when they used to go dancing. “That's just—”

“Karma,” Imani shouted out as she and Raymond started for the dance floor.

Adrian narrowed his eyes at the actress and then returned to the bar where Richmond was in a conversation with the bartender's breasts.

“So, Richmond, tell me more about this book.”

 

 

Across the room, Dana tried to pretend she wasn't looking at Adrian as she danced with Ian. But Imani caught her stare. “I'm hungry,” Imani declared. “Babe, let's go to Roscoe's and bring those two along.”

“Don't they have food here?” Raymond asked through a yawn.

“Do you want to leave?” Ian asked Dana. “Because your ex is shooting daggers with his eyes.”

She laughed nervously. “How did you know that was my ex?”

“The look of ‘damn, I messed up' gave it away.”

Dana stroked Ian's shoulder as she held back more laughter. Why did he have to be so damned cute and nice? “Well, if you guys want to leave,” she said, “we can.”

“Great,” Imani said.

“Um,” Raymond groaned. “Jet lag is kicking in. Why don't you all go without me?”

“If you want to go back to the hotel, I'll go with you,” Imani said. “I couldn't enjoy myself without you.”

Raymond kissed her forehead. “Yeah, and you don't want to be a part of rumors about our marriage being over, either. There are a lot of reporters out there.”

She thrust her hip into his. “I never had such a thought.” Imani turned to Ian and Dana. “You guys can go eat without us, right?”

“That depends on Dana.”

“Me?”

Ian nodded. “Do you mind riding on my Harley?”

“Not at all,” she replied, excitement peppering her tone and causing her eyes to glitter. Her plan had been to rent a bike of her own next week and hit the PCH for old times' sake. Despite herself, she glanced in Adrian's direction and locked eyes with his angry glare. He had always hated the fact that she rode her motorcycle up and down the highway. His solution? He bought her a Corvette. Dana smiled, turned back to Ian, and followed him, Imani, and Raymond out of the club.

“That was strange,” Raymond said once they were outside. “Was that about the conversation we had earlier? Otherwise, I'd like to know why my wife is picking fights with total strangers.”

“Because you married a drama queen,” Dana replied. “What did you do, Imani?”

Looking down at her nails, Imani pretended not to be paying attention to the conversation about her. “I'm sorry, I thought you two were talking about someone else. Raymond, let's talk about this later. Much, much later.”

Ian laughed. “Imani, you're something. I'm going to get my bike. Be right back, Dana.”

When Ian was out of earshot, Imani turned to Dana. “Don't fall for Mr. Slick's tricks.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm not blind. I saw the looks you two were giving each other and—”

“Imani,” Raymond interjected. “Leave Dana alone. When a man decides to alienate folks who can make or break his club, he has some deep-seated affection for a woman. You should consider that dinner, Dana.”

“No, you shouldn't,” Imani shot back.

Dana reached out and hugged her friends. “I got this.”

“Good,” Raymond replied. “I need some sleep and I don't need my wife obsessing over someone else's business all night.”

“I don't do that, Doctor,” she snapped, then smiled. “Especially when there are so many other things we can do tonight.”

“I think I feel my second wind kicking in.”

“Eww,” Dana said. “I'm standing here and this is just uncomfortable. Like watching a reality show all over again.”

Imani poked her friend on the shoulder. “Maybe you ought to . . .” She stopped talking when she heard the roar of Ian's Harley.

“Oh, that's sexy,” Dana intoned as she watched Ian maneuver the Switchback up to the curb. Dana immediately recognized the rumbling of the twin cam 103 engine.

“Dangerous,” Imani whispered.

“I don't know, honey, we'd look good on one of those.”

Imani shot her husband a
get real
look. “Not on your life, Doctor. I can't believe you.”

“When I hit my midlife crisis, expect to see me riding across 110th Street on one of those.”

“Come on, Bobby Womack, our car is here.” Imani linked arms with her husband as they headed for the limo. Dana walked over to Ian and ran her hand across the seat of the Harley.

“Nice.”

“You ride?” he asked.

She nodded. “I had a Triumph once and against my better judgment, I sold it.”

“I like those bikes, but this gives me all I need. Especially when I travel in New Orleans.”

“New Orleans. I've always wanted to do a shoot down there.”

“Oh no,
chere
, you've never been to New Orleans? Now, there's some beautiful scenery down by the bayou. You have to see it one day.”

“It's definitely on my bucket list.” Dana took the helmet Ian extended to her and snapped it on her head.

“Maybe I can be your tour guide—that is, if he doesn't have a problem with it.” Ian nodded toward the entrance of Allure where Adrian was standing watching their every move.

Dana closed her eyes, willing him away. Willing her heart to stop pounding like a bass drum. “He's not a factor,” she said as she climbed onto the back of Ian's bike and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Maybe we can use this bike in the shoot tomorrow.” Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the anger clouding Adrian's face. What she didn't understand was why she cared. He'd done much worse to her, and now he had the nerve to be mad? Leaning closer to Ian, she closed her eyes and allowed the wind to blow Adrian out of her mind—for a little while at least.