Love, Lies & The D.A. 10Th Anniversry Celebration

Excerpt

I wake at eleven the next day. I haven’t slept that late in forever. Except for when Richard and I—I stop my thoughts. I will start the day on a bright note.

I shower and dress in a white pair of skinny jeans, a navy and white striped top, and a navy blazer. A pair of navy stiletto booties completes my outfit. I will indulge in brunch at a nearby resort today.

The pretty, young host escorts me to a table for two near a window with panoramic water vistas. Within minutes, a server takes my order. As my café latté arrives, I can’t help but overhear a rude exchange between a man and his leggy blonde with the host who escorted me to my seat.

“Look, I reserved that exact seat yesterday,” he says.

“I apologize, sir, but that seat is not available,” the host replies.

“Well, if you were doing your job in the first place, it would be available to me, wouldn’t it?”

“Sir, I’m sorry for the error, but it wasn’t written here. If you like, you can wait at the bar where I’ll be happy to serve you a complimentary beverage of your choice, or I can accommodate you at an available table now.”

I can’t help but look to see who this asshole is.

Everything about him smells of money. From the designer jeans that hug his ass, all the way to the Jaeger Reverso watch that graces his wrist. He’s hot—probably in his mid to late thirties, tall, broad shoulders, piercing grey eyes, and a head of black hair like I’ve never seen.

Ordinarily, I might have found him attractive, if only he would just shut up.

Everything he says to that poor young girl, who has tried so hard to rectify someone else’s mistake, pisses me off. He’s been nothing but rude and condescending. As I look up, my eyes land straight on his. Then I realize they’re all looking my way. I turn around to look behind me, but there is no one. Then it dawns on me that he’s arguing with the host about my seat.

My meal arrives. I mind my business, and I proceed to enjoy it. Before I know it, I see him approaching my table. I pretend not to notice and focus all my attention on my lemon ricotta pancakes before me, but within seconds, he stands beside me.

“Excuse me, my name is Jonathan Kole. Would you mind terribly if you were seated elsewhere?”

My eyes travel across my pancakes to his broad thighs, to his crotch, and to what I suspect is an extremely trimmed stomach beyond his black ribbed sweater. Then I stare into his grey eyes in silence.

“You see, my girlfriend and I met right here at this table a year ago, and I wanted to propose to her. Here. Today.”

“Actually, Jonathan, I do mind. Seeing that I’m enjoying my meal, surely you wouldn’t mind waiting until I’m done. Or perhaps you can let that polite host, who has done everything possible to accommodate you, have you seated elsewhere.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” he asks.

Asshole! Your name might sound familiar but who cares…

“No. You could be the king of England, and I wouldn’t give a damn.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You really want to know?” I ask quietly.

He lowers his head slightly, as if he’s seriously interested.

“I am a woman who walked in on her fiancé screwing her best friend one week before her wedding, so forgive me if I’m not in a sentimental mood.”

His mouth drops open at my response.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Kole, I’d really like to enjoy my brunch.”

His piercing grey eyes are glaring into mine. I know he’s angry. His temple pulsates as he stares at me. He walks away completely flushed.

I don’t care. Perhaps if he had been nicer to that host I would have considered his request. However, because he comes from money doesn’t give him the right to speak to people any way he wishes.

I continue to enjoy my meal and notice him walking hand in hand to the bar with Malibu Barbie. Half an hour later, I ask for the check then purposely make him wait an additional five minutes before I leave.

On the way out, the host looks at me bright-eyed. “No one ever speaks to Mr. Kole that way, Miss McLean.”

“Well, it’s time someone taught him some manners,” I reply. I hand her a healthy tip, and I’m on my way.