Prick.
He gripped Kayla’s arms from behind and rubbed up and down as if we were standing in negative degree weather and he was trying to warm her up. The soup kitchen was a comfortable temperature. All this unnecessary touching was, well, just plain unnecessary damn it. “Pretty cool, huh, Kayla? Of course, you were instrumental in making this happen. You guys make a good team.”
She smiled at me. “I suppose we do.”
My eyes narrowed at his hands sliding up and down her bare forearms. He stopped, stepped up beside her, and draped an arm around her shoulders. She looked down as he pulled her in close, the way a teenage boy might tug his girlfriend inward. It sent her a little off balance, and to steady herself, Kayla braced a hand on Rodney’s stomach.
My temples ached and I realized how hard my jaw was clenched.
Why did she keep this from me? It was obvious from where I was standing that there was something—whatever that something was—between her and Rodney. Otherwise, he’d never be so handsy with her or she’d have told him off. At least I thought she would. And she hadn’t.
Kayla sensed the storm brewing. Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. She took a step forward. “Lukas?”
Rodney’s hand slipped from her shoulders when someone called his name from the swinging kitchen doors.
I leaned in close to her. “It’s clear from where I’m standing that I’ve been manipulated by a pretty face. Well done, Kayla. You almost had me. But I’m done with this. You hear me? I’m done with it.”
“Lukas.”
Her words drowned in the voices of the crowd as I turned and pushed through throngs of people to get the hell out of the soup kitchen and away from Kayla and Rodney.
How could I have been such a naive fool? How could I have believed this was anything other than her working her ass off to get the money she needed for her cause?
I gritted my teeth as I broke outside onto the sidewalk.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I thought as the anger brewed deep in my gut.
Chapter 18
Kayla
Rodney stood beside me with his arms hanging slack at his sides as we stared after Lukas, who’d just vanished through the main doors of the soup kitchen.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I have no idea. Hold on. I’d better go talk to him.”
“Are you sure you want to talk to him by yourself?”
“He’s angry,” I said with a shake of my head, “not dangerous.”
Rodney pursed his lips. “I don’t like it. I should go with you. Just in case. You know, to be safe and—”
“Rodney,” I said, stopping him from following after me with a hand pressed flat to his chest. “I appreciate the thought but it’s misplaced. Lukas is…” I trailed off. What was the word I was looking for? Temperamental? Moody? Complicated? “He’s just got some stuff in his past and it makes it hard for him to trust people. He and I go way back. It would be better if just I go.”
Rodney looked for a moment like he wasn’t going to oblige, but eventually, his shoulders slumped a little and he nodded. “All right, go. I’ll hold down the fort here.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Go on. We can’t risk losing his donation.”
The donation hadn’t even occurred to me. All I’d been thinking about was Lukas and what I’d done to make him so upset.
You need to get your priorities straight, I chastised myself as I hurried around the rows of tables and burst outside onto the sidewalk. It was a crisp cool day and the sun had sunk down behind the high-rise buildings on the other side of the street, casting everything into cold shadow. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked both ways down the street in search of the tall blond-haired billionaire who made me crazy.
And crazy for him.
A car engine revved and I spun to a red light at the cross street. I spotted Lukas’ car just as the light turned green. His brake lights winked out as he hit the gas. The tires spun on the asphalt. Somebody nearby swore loudly out their window at him and Lukas peeled away, leaving the smell of burning rubber in his wake.
Based on the direction he drove off in and the anger I’d seen in his eyes, I figured there was one place Lukas Holt would go right now.
His office.
I didn’t realize until I was on the bus that I still had my hairnet and apron on. More than a handful of people shot me amused glances as I turned bright pink and tore the apron and hairnet off. I tucked them both in my bag, which I left on the empty seat beside me. With a tired and worried sigh, I slumped low in the seat and stared out the window as we drove past office towers, retail boutiques, salons, and shoe stores. The area continued to get nicer until I got off at the stop closest to Lukas’ tower.
I stood on the sidewalk with my head tilted back and gazed up at the massive building.
This was such a different beast than what I was used to. My stomping grounds were low-income neighborhoods consisting of one-level homes with disheveled front yards, rotting fences, and collapsing front porches. Nothing was shiny and new. Nothing was taken care of how it should be. But this place?
It was a palace.
The building, all shiny reflective glass that looked dark and moody in the cloudy evening, shot up into the sky like a spear. The lobby was a massive sprawling thing with a giant crystal chandelier above the front desk and polished gray floors that were so shiny they looked permanently wet. Modern artwork hung on some of the walls, most in shades of gray and navy blue, and sleek furniture offered
