Page 47 of Over the Limit

“Lachlan,” she groans but I know she loves the attention. The sense of feeling important. She’s told me as much in the past.

“Call in a favor for me. Throw your name around and get your ex to give me access. Tonight. Privacy. You know the drill.” And she knows what I’m talking about. Her ex-boyfriend’s father is part owner of the conglomerate that owns the club. God knows how I remember that, but I do.

“Ooohhh,” she says as if it all clicks. “Lachlan Evans has a date tonight and he doesn’t want the media to know.”

Something like that but the devil’s in the details and Zola is more of a big-picture girl.

“Pretty please,” I say as a response.

She huffs. “Well, Lachlan Evans . . . I guess. And only because you’re asking me nicely.”

I fist-pump the air. I’ve been out here wracking my brain over what I could do to help Blair. To give her a reprieve from . . . everything. “You’re the best. Awesome. You’ll call right now?”

“Everything has its price, Lach.”

Of course it does. “Like what?”

“Be my date. My mother is throwing a party on the yacht.”

“Zola . . . we tried this, remember?” I laugh. While the woman is drop-dead gorgeous and knows how to live life, she’s simply not my type. And if she were, the distraction and everything her last name would bring wouldn’t exactly help my focus.

Says the man who’s trying to commandeer a golf course for another woman.

“Look. I need your help. She’s determined to set me up with the Count von something or other, and you need to save me from his sweaty palms and horrible personality. She loves you. She’d buy the notion that we’re seeing each other again. I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate.”

“Yes, you would.”

“You’re right. I would.” She laughs. “Please. Just go with me. Help me. Save me.”

My grin widens. “Leave it to you to add the dramatics.”

“Always. Besides, cozying up to me can only help you. You know my mother has no problem wielding her influence where it needs to be wielded.”

Ah, yes. The carrot has been dangled.

The one I was waiting for her to drop.

The same damn carrot I would’ve ignored a few weeks ago, but now am so very conscious of.

“Make the call, Zola.”

“Be my date, Lachlan.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Blair

There’s no way that’s all going to fit in there.

I stare at my two open suitcases on my bed and debate how I’m going to shove the remainder of my belongings into either of them.

How do I have the same amount of stuff that I came here with but now it doesn’t all fit?

“Well, shit,” I mutter as I put my hands on my hips like that’s going to help me figure out my quandary.

I startle at the knock on my hotel door.

My heart leaps in my throat.