Old School (A Bad Boy Biker Romance) (21 page)

“Oh yeah, sure,” I said.

“As I'm sure you know being the editor of a popular fashion magazine is a very high stress job. I'm sure some of your colleagues think that all I do is sip black coffee and yell, but I assure you that I do much more than that. After discussing this with my doctor and my husband I've decided that this environment is not beneficial to the development of a healthy, happy baby. So I've decided to take some indefinite time off. Certainly until a few months after the birth, but possibly continuing after that. I'm still considering whether the life of a stay at home mother is for me,” she paused to gauge my reaction before she went on, “Therefore, I will obviously need someone to replace me for as long as I am away. Possibly permanently.”

I didn't dare to speak. Creative director was one thing but editor was a whole different kettle of fish. Was she really suggesting that I would be a good fit for the job? It seemed unreal to me. A few months ago I'd been given little more responsibility than an intern. Now she was offering me my dream job on a silver platter. I had no delusions, I knew it would be ridiculously stressful and time consuming, but I would relish that if it meant being able to be creative. I could really give Catwalk a new edge. I was already brimming over with ideas.

“So, I'd like to ask you a favor. Starting next month I will no longer be around here and I need someone to make sure that the magazine doesn't crash and burn. You've impressed me a lot during your time here, Lola. I know it's a risk, but god damn it what is fashion without a risk every once and a while? I'd like you to fill in as editor,” she said. It was like a dream come true. I seemed to have lost my voice so I couldn't even respond properly. All I could do was nod. After all, how could I say no to such an offer?

Jennifer accepted my response happily.

“I'm glad we're on the same page. I think you'll really be able to do something amazing with this magazine,” she said. I thanked her graciously, trying not to make a fool of myself though I felt like I was about to cry happy tears. Jennifer dismissed me and I was allowed to go home.

I walked past my colleagues without a word, though I was positively bursting to tell someone. Tim shot me a questioning look and I just smiled. He gave me a thumbs up and got back to his work. Maybe life wasn't so bad after all.

Vince

I waited all week for a response to my flowers. Every time I opened the door I expected to see a courier standing there, wilted bunch in her hand and a pitying look on her face. She would tell me that she was sorry and that Lola refused to take the flowers. That didn't happen though. I also imagined a few best case scenarios, but I didn't allow myself to get too hopeful. I had to face it, that wasn't going to happen.

What I got instead was an eerie silence. Lola didn't text me, or call me or send me a letter. I got a text from the flower shop to confirm she had received the flowers, but that was it. For all I knew she had tossed them straight into the trash and they were currently rotting under the remains of the week's leftovers. I hadn't signed my name on the card, so maybe she hadn't even recognized who they were from. The possibilities were driving me crazy. I had to speak to her. I had to know what was going on. If she told me that she never wanted to see me again then I would accept it, though I really hoped that wasn't the case. Still, anything would be better than living in this permanent state of limbo. More than anything I just needed answers.

It took a while for me to figure out exactly how I would approach it. I went to work but my head wasn't there so I messed up a few of the paint jobs. One of our few female customers had requested that we spray pay her motorcycle so that it was coated in lurid pink. I got confused and sprayed the wrong bike, only realizing when I was half way through. Brett banged his head on the desk in frustration.

“Are you out of your mind, Vince? I'm gonna have to explain to some old biker why his bike looks like something Barbie would drive at the weekends. Jesus Christ, what's wrong with your head!” he exclaimed.

“Calm down, we can just spray paint it black again. The pink will get covered, no problem. If there are any issues then you can just give him one of my vintage bikes as an apology. Most people would kill for one of those,” I explained. Brett shook his head at me.

“You are not yourself lately. Still thinking about Lola?” He remembered her name now, though I hardly ever said it. He may have been dense in some ways, but he saw right through me. I didn't see the point in lying anymore. It just wasn't worth it.

“Yeah, I am. I really like that girl,” I said. I wondered if maybe I loved her but that was something that I could worry about later, “I think I maybe wanna be with her.”

There was no maybe about it. To my surprise, Brett didn't berate me or yell at me. “Glad you could finally admit it. So, what are you gonna do about it?”

It was a good question. What was I going to do about it?

Lola

I enjoyed my time working from home as much as I could while it lasted. I knew that once I became editor I would be in and out of the office way more than I ever had been. That was all right though. With my new salary I could afford to rent a place much closer to the office.

I wrote my articles in the kitchen every day, stopping every so often to admire the flowers on my windowsill. They lasted a long time before they began to show any signs of wilting, and filled the room up with a beautiful scent. I felt peaceful. I felt good.

It was still the morning when the doorbell rang. I'd been working on an article about the pros and cons of contouring for daytime and sipping a cup of coffee. That was strange. People very rarely called on weekdays. It was even more rare that they would call in the morning. I saved my progress, closed my laptop and put down my coffee. I gave myself a quick once over in the hallway mirror on my way to the door, just to make sure everything was in order. I'd soon learned that it was easier to work from home if I forced myself to get dressed up. It felt more like I was going to work that way. Today's outfit was a cute little denim skirt combined with tights and a knitted sweater. Whoever was at the door wouldn't see me in pajamas anyway, so that was good.

I was completely taken aback when I answered. It was Vince who was standing there in front of me. He was even more handsome than I had remembered, still dressed in his leather jacket and jeans combo that he seemed to be so attached to. He gave me a gentle smile.

“Hey Lola.”

I looked around to make sure the neighbors weren't watching. The last thing that I needed was to get a reputation as the neighborhood drama queen. Though I supposed since I was moving it didn't matter much.

“Vince. It's so...weird to see you,” I said, trying to keep any nastiness from my voice. I wasn't angry anymore. Just confused, “Why are you here?”

“Can I come in?” he asked. I probably should have told him to fuck off and slammed the door in his face, but for once he seemed really genuine. I had to give him a chance.

“Yes, of course you can,” I said. He'd never been to my house before and I was worried what he would think. It was neat and tidy and perfectly nice, but his own house was so beautiful that it positively paled in comparison. Still, Vince was polite. As he sat down at my kitchen table he told me that he liked what I'd done with the place.

I made him a cup of coffee and gave myself a fresh one. The two of us didn't speak through this whole process. I didn't even look at him. It felt so odd to have him just sitting in my kitchen, like Josh had done the other day. They couldn't have been more different to each other.

“Thanks for that,” he said, taking a sip as I sat back in my seat, “It's good coffee.” “Yeah, it's pretty good.”

I took a sip of mine, trying to make it last as long as possible. As long as the two of us were drinking our coffees then we wouldn't have to speak.

Vince's eyes found my flowers, which were still standing tall in the vase on the windowsill. He smiled at that.

“Did you like them?” he asked. “They asked me if I wanted gold or silver foil and I said gold because I thought it suited your personality more.”

“They're really beautiful, and I love gold so thank you,” I took another sip before cutting to the chase, “Why are you here, Vince? Really? Why? Because if it's for sex I can't. I'm working and anyway, I just can't.”

Vince shook his head.

“I'm not here for sex. As much as I love having sex with you, there are more important things,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” I asked, but he didn't answer me right away. Instead he started speaking about the photo shoot.

“I bought the magazine, you know. I think it turned out really well. Were you happy with it?” he asked. I nodded.

“Yeah, it turned out as well as it could have. Everyone was very happy with me. Thanks for all the help.”

“I didn't help. Thanks for making me look good in the interview. Our sales have gone way up since it was published. It's pretty cool to see,” he remarked.

“That's great.”

There was another one of those long silences as we both drained our coffee mugs. This all felt so unreal. Vince was in front of me right now, in my own kitchen. We weren't fucking, or fighting. We were just talking. I didn't know what to feel.

“Why are you here?” I asked suddenly.

“That's a good question. Look, I've never asked a girl this before so it might sound really weird,” he took a deep breath before he continued, “But would you like to go on a date with me?”

I don't think that I could have been more surprised if Vince told me that he was going into space. Was he actually asking me out on a date like a normal person? He had actually used the word 'date' so he must be. My answer was automatic.

“Yes, OK. A date, let's try it.”

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Vince

She said yes. I guess I hadn't quite been expecting that. It wasn't like I'd ever asked someone on a date before in my entire life. I'd flat out asked girls if they wanted me to go home and fuck in the past, but this was competently different. I was actually nervous, but she said yes.

After the words had escaped her mouth, Lola looked surprised. It was like she hadn't expected to say yes. I certainly hadn't expected her to.

“Really?” I said. There was a pause but then she nodded. I felt like punching the air in victory but I was afraid that was look stupid, so I forced myself to remain calm.

“Great, let's go then!” I said. Lola looked surprised.

“Now? Where are we going? I thought you'd want to go for diner or something?” she questioned. I shook my head.

“Nah, this is an all day date. Go hard our go home, right? You ready to leave?” I was really afraid that she might say no to that, but despite her surprise, Lola agreed. I was happy.

I just hoped I wouldn't fuck things up.

Lola

The first problem with my 'date' with Vince was the transport. I walked out to see his motorcycle parked at the edge of my driveway. Vince walked towards it but I stayed where I was.

He looked back at me.

“Hey, what's the hold up?” he asked, smirking at me. I shook my head.

“I don't do motorcycles,” I said. To be frank, they scared the shit out of me. I hated the idea of being so exposed to the elements. The fact that you could get into accidents so easily was terrifying. The fact that I was wearing a tiny skirt didn't help either.

“What? You expected to go on a date with me without getting on a bike?” he asked. I shook my head again.

“No. I didn't expect to go on a date with you at all!” I said. Vince shrugged.

“Fair point,” I watched him sit down on his bike. He looked so fucking sexy on it that I couldn't help but stare. Judging by the smile on his face he knew exactly the effect it was having on me, “But lots of new things are gonna happen today. I'm taking you on a date and you're going to get over your fear of motorcycles today.”

“But I can't!”

“Yes you can,” he put out his hand, “Trust me baby doll.” I marched over to him and sat on the back of his bike. “Fine! But I'm not your baby doll. I'm Lola.”

He grinned and started up the engine. The vibrations shot through my body and I could feel adrenaline pumping.