Love After War (8 page)

“Dana—”

“Don't. Just don't. Go clean up your mess and I'll see if Hollywood Ken wants to have breakfast.” She stalked over to the door as Adrian slipped his pants on. Maybe this was the blowup he needed to move Dana aside while he worked on his plan. But what if he lost her forever this time? Was revenge worth the anger he saw written all over her beautiful face ?

“Can you move a little faster?” she snapped when she caught his glance.

“Dana . . .”

“Please, save it.”

Adrian slipped his shirt over his head and crossed to the door. He stopped and stroked her cheek. “It will all make sense one day,” he said.

Dana snatched away from him and slammed the door in his face so he wouldn't see the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Adrian drove aimlessly around downtown LA, trying to get the image of Dana's hurt face off his mind. He'd meant what he said about losing her, not just to Ian, but to any man. Dana was his.
Then why do you keep hurting her? You're more like him than you want to admit. Is revenge really worth this ?
Adrian slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of him and to shake his thoughts clear. His mother was slick, naming him Adrian Elliot Bryant. Did she think giving him that bastard's name would mean something to him? Give him a piece of the father who wanted nothing to do with him?

The sound of a blaring horn alerted Adrian that he was holding up traffic. He sped through the intersection and headed back to his club. In his office he could think, plot, and plan for the meeting with his father. And, he hoped, forget that he'd hurt Dana again.

When he arrived at Allure, he smiled at what had become LA's newest hot spot overnight because Imani and Ian showed up at his place the day before their red carpet premiere. Sure he'd helped it happen since he had photographers staking out the place because he'd planned to embarrass Richmond. He'd been so consumed with Dana that he hadn't checked to see what kind of waves the pictures of Richmond and the hooker made. Maybe that was why Elliot called him this morning.

Unlocking the door and picking up the
LA Times
and a discarded copy of the
LA Weekly,
Adrian entered the empty building ready to see if his plan worked at all. Instead of heading to the office, he took a seat at one of the tables and opened up the papers, searching for Richmond's picture. When he found it, Adrian smirked, glad to see that the
Times
gossip columnist used the photo where Richmond looked as if he were about to eat the call girl's breasts as if they were orbs of chocolate cake. Adrian began reading the column.

Crawford Hotel executive Richmond Crawford was caught with a well-known Los Angeles call girl last night, and it looks as if he paid for the whole package. As he and the call girl got close, they headed to the city's newest hot spot, Allure. However, when Crawford arrived at the club, he must have handled his business already because he arrived alone. On the flip side, Crawford's car mate, identified as LaTrell McClain, was arrested and charged with solicitation. There's no word if LAPD will charge the married Crawford. This is unusual behavior for the older brother of former tabloid star Solomon Crawford, the ex of Heather Williams. Solomon Crawford has been quiet since his marriage and the murder of his former partner. Then again, if my wife had taken her out, I'd be faithful too.

The other Mrs. Crawford, Vivian, couldn't be reached in New York for comment. Another interesting fact about the Crawford family—there's a rumored family business book in the works. I wonder if these pictures will make it into the book about one of New York's richest families.

This was a good start, Adrian decided as he folded the newspaper, but he wanted more. He considered getting Heather involved, but that wouldn't be enough. Two cheating sons could be brushed off by a forgiving public; however, if the call girl was arrested and Richmond was still free, then he was sure there had to be some angry feminists who'd mobilize and protest the at the construction site. Dashing up the stairs to his office, Adrian was about to add more fuel to the fire.

 

 

Dana pulled herself together after a long hot shower and a fifteen-minute sob. She couldn't understand why she'd allowed herself to think things would be different with Adrian just because he gave her an orgasm—well, multiple orgasms. Dana wasn't going to wallow in self-pity over Adrian again. She had work to do, and worrying about Adrian Bryant wasn't going to get in the way. Dressing in a pair of leggings, a tank top, and black sneakers, Dana decided to walk over to the studio and take some shots of the people who made Hollywood tick—the stage hands, the set designers, and the like. Then she had her final set of publicity photos to shoot for the film. With Ian.

Dana had to admit that she had fun with him before getting sucked back into Adrian's orbit. Was she wrong not to give him a chance? As she headed out the door, her cell phone rang. She half hoped that it was Adrian but was surprised to see that it was Ian.

“Hi,” she said.

“Good morning, sounds like you're up and out.”

“I'm about to go shoot some pictures before we have our session and get some breakfast.”

“That's what I was calling you about, breakfast. If you'd like some company, I can come and get you on my Harley.”

“Now that is an offer I can't refuse.” Dana smiled despite herself and the tumult of emotions tearing at her heart. “I'm ready when you are.”

“I can be there in twenty minutes. You're in Culver City, right?”

“Yes. I'm staying at the Culver Hotel, but you can pick me up outside of the studio,” she said.

“Will do. See you soon.”

“Bye,” she said, then ended the call.

Dana wondered if Ian would be game to take their photo shoot on location. She wanted to make a trip to Orange County for two reasons: to take pictures of Ian on his Harley and to get one of her own. Forget leasing—it was time for her to own a cycle. Was part of her getting the motorcycle because she knew it would piss Adrian off? Yes. But she told herself that she was simply getting her swagger back. And nothing said swag like a motorcycle, new helmet, and a hot pair of motorcycle boots. Dana couldn't wait. She was going to get her own Harley.

As she crossed the street, her cell phone rang again. Looking down at the phone, she saw that it was Imani. “I really hate LA,” Imani groaned. “Raymond is still on East Coast time and he's already up as if we're supposed to be out and about.”

“Good morning to you too,” Dana quipped.

“Anyway, how did everything go last night? Isn't Ian just the sweetest? I bet he pushed all thoughts of Mr. Slick right out the window.”

Dana shivered as she thought about last night. Adrian's arms around her. His lips. His touch. His bull. Sighing, she agreed with her friend. “As a matter of fact, Ian and I are having breakfast. I'm going to meet him now. And we're taking a little road trip to do his photo shoot.”

“Ooh, this is promising. Wait, you aren't hopping on the back of that motorcycle of his again, are you? Thanks, babe.”

“I'm guessing that ‘thanks, babe' was directed at your husband?”

Imani laughed. “It was. He brought me a copy of the paper because we're in it.”

“At Adrian's club?” Dana asked. She wondered if the activity at the club would come back and bite Imani, Ian, and other stars who made Adrian's clubs hot spots. Would they get questioned by the police?

“Yes. I hate that my presence there gave your heartbreak kid free publicity.”

“Well, I wouldn't go back there if I were you.”

“Trust me, I won't. Look, don't forget about our spa appointment at three. I have to go now,” Imani said, the purr in her voice revealing that she and Raymond would be spending breakfast in bed.

Just like she and Adrian. Stop it. Adrian made his decision two years ago, and you can't allow him to come back into your life and turn things upside down again. You got your closure; now move on. Dana stepped on the elevator and pasted a smile on her lips. At least by the end of the day, she'd have her own Harley and tomorrow she'd be so busy shooting for her book and editing pictures that she wouldn't have time to think about Adrian, his mess, or his hot and tantalizing kisses.

“You look ready to ride,” Ian said when he spotted Dana.

She smiled at him and drank in the image of him on that motorcycle.
Sexy
was an understatement. Dana lifted her camera and snapped a few shots of Ian. He smiled like the star he was. “You're the one who looks ready to ride,” she said when she lowered her camera. “I don't have the proper gear, but I think it will keep me safe. How do you feel about going to Orange County this morning?”

“What's in Orange County?” he asked as he got off the bike and gave Dana a quick hug.

“My Fat Boy.”

“You're getting a Fat Bob today?” Ian's eyes stretched to the size of silver dollars. “Color me impressed.”

Dana shrugged and offered him a sweet smile. “And, since you look so great on this bike, I figured we could get some shots of you actually riding, instead of in the studio.”

Ian wrapped his arm around her waist. “I like the sound of that. It's a good thing that I didn't drive the Corvette today.”

Dana inhaled sharply at the mention of the sports car. Ian thought she was expressing her admiration of the car and smiled. “I know, I have all the trappings of a man going through a midlife crisis.”

She returned his smile, not telling him the story of what a Corvette really meant to her. Adrian had wanted her off her motorcycle so badly that he'd gotten her a black one. She gave up the motorcycle and had only called him controlling once. When she'd walked in on him and those two women following his mother's death, she parked the car—with the keys in it and the engine running—on a random street near LAX, then walked to the airport to catch her flight to New York. She'd hoped someone had taken the car and had a better time with it than she had. Dana had decided that when she accepted that car, she lost a part of herself. And what was the purpose? Adrian still tossed her aside as if she'd never meant a damned thing to him.

“Let's go,” she finally said.

“Do you want to eat first or are you as excited as I am to go to the Harley dealership?”

“The sooner we get to the dealership the better. I can't wait to roll back into LA on my new wheels.”

“That is a sight I'm looking forward to seeing.”

Ian handed Dana a helmet, which she snapped on her head, then climbed on the back of the bike. She leaned against Ian and told herself she could learn to like this—a man who appreciated her love of the open road.

But your heart isn't all in, she thought. Last night was not closure. You simply opened a wound that was healing just fine.

Suddenly, the warmth of Ian's body wasn't that comforting.

 

 

“This is unacceptable!” Elliot boomed as he thrust a copy of the
Times
in Richmond's face. Richmond took the paper and read the column with trepidation.

“I didn't know—”

Elliot held his hand up, cutting Richmond off. “You're the one who always called and complained about Solomon's exploits. Yet, you purchase sex while we're building this hotel and getting ready to do the family history book. How in the hell do you think this is going to play out?”

Solomon walked into the suite with Kandace and their daughter Kiana in tow. “What's all the yelling about?” he asked as Kandace and the baby crossed over to the breakfast buffet in the corner of the suite.

“This,” Elliot said as he snatched the paper away from Richmond.

“I didn't know,” Richmond said as Solomon scanned the paper. “It was a mistake and—”

“A mistake!” Elliot thundered as he rose from his chair. “It's a PR nightmare.”

Richmond glared at his father. “So, what do you call what you did? Family building?”

Elliot looked down at his watch, then up at Solomon. “You two better fix this.”

“Where are you going?” Solomon asked his father as he headed for the door.

“Out.” Elliot slammed out of the suite.

 

 

Adrian checked the time on his iPhone. Elliot Crawford was late. Jackass. First he woke him up, and now this? He was wasting his time. Adrian didn't mind losing money—he could always get that back—but his time was priceless. Part of him wondered if his delay had anything to do with today's headlines. It was still no excuse for tardiness.

His time could've been used to find a way to win Dana back. Pacing in front of his desk, Adrian was losing his patience. Elliot could kiss his . . . There was the bell, alerting him that someone had come in. He didn't want to look overly anxious and rush into the lobby to greet his father . . . well, more accurately, his sperm donor. He let a few seconds pass; then he headed into the lobby. To his surprise, it was Solomon waiting for him and not his father.

“What kind of place are you running here? I know you sent the car for my brother. Did you pay for the hooker too?” Solomon bellowed when he saw Adrian.

“Don't come into my place of business hurling accusations. If your brother enjoys the company of hookers, what the hell does that have to do with me? Maybe you need to have this conversation with him,” Adrian snarled.

“You son of a . . . I know my brother and he's not stupid. You're behind this. The question is why.”

“Get out,” Adrian growled.

“Not until I get answers.” Solomon stood toe to toe with Adrian. Sizing him up, Adrian squared off with Solomon as if ready to fight.

“You're barking at the wrong person. I didn't get in a car with a hooker while the press took pictures. So, for the last time, get the hell out of here.”

Solomon grabbed Adrian's collar. “I don't trust you and I don't know what your game is, but you'd better stay away from my family.”

Adrian snatched away and glared at him. “You don't want to pick a fight with me,” he snapped.

“And you think I'm some sort of lightweight? If you want to go to war, get ready to lose,” Solomon gritted.

“Be careful who you challenge,” Adrian retorted.

“I don't know what your game is, Bryant, but this LA double-talk is not going to work. I don't trust you.”