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Lorelei

There aren’t many moments I’ve regretted in my life, but this one would have to rank high on that short list. Doing the walk of shame through one of the most exclusive hotels in Sydney is not something I ever thought I’d do, but yet, here I am doing exactly that. I blame Rodney Stein. If he had just turned up to his own damn wedding yesterday and married his fiancé—my friend—none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t have insisted on getting drunk last night, and I wouldn’t have had to match her drink for drink. And I wouldn’t have come back to this hotel with the guy I met and made a fool of myself.

Oh, God.

My head hurts.

Yeah, well a lot more is going to hurt if you don’t get your ass home and then to your office in the next forty minutes.

I pick up my pace in an effort to achieve my goal. At the same time, my phone rings and I rummage in my bag for it.

Please God, don’t let anyone I know see me this morning.

“Lorelei, where are you?” It’s my best friend, Sienna, and the urgency I hear in her voice concerns me. She never takes that tone with me. Sienna is one of the most laid-back people I know.

“I’m on my way home and then to the office. What’s up?” I keep my eyes down, focused on the marble floor while doing my best to avoid anyone’s gaze.

There’s a long pause where neither of us speak. When she finally replies, the urgency has given way to confusion. “Wait, did you hook up with that guy last night?”

I sigh. Admitting what I did is the last thing I want to do. “No… but I did go back to his hotel room. I’ll fill you in later.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Lorelei Winters?”

“I know… I know. Stupid.”

“No, it’s not stupid, but it’s not you. You don’t do sex with strangers.”

As she speaks, I push through the front doors of the hotel—finally—and step outside into the warm sunshine. It’s only eight in the morning, so this weather is unseasonably warm for a winter day in Sydney. The early morning hustle and bustle of Sydney fill my senses, and I breathe it in. I love everything about this city, even the cranky cab drivers who honk at anyone who dares get in their way and the people who shove past you in their hurry to get to work.

“Sienna, can we go over this later when my head isn’t throbbing, and I’m not madly trying to get home so I can take a shower and get to the office before my appointment?”

“Oh, shit! That’s what I’m calling for. Your appointment has been changed. The guy will be here in fifteen minutes.”

Today is going to be a bad day.

It can’t be any worse than last night.

“Wanna make a bet,” I mutter to myself as I bend my head so I can balance my phone between my cheek and my shoulder. I then fumble in my bag to make sure I have supplies on hand to fix my face now.

“Huh?” Sienna asks on the other end of the phone.

“Ignore me. I’m talking to myself,” I say as I find my make-up bag. Thank goodness I always travel prepared.

“How far away are you?” Sienna asks.

“I’m close, but this traffic is a bitch by the looks of it. Can you stall him if I’m running late?”

“Sure. I’ll sell him some financial services.”

I laugh at her while hailing a cab. Sienna is a financial adviser and can sell anything to anyone. I don’t doubt the guy will have hired her before he leaves our office.

“Thanks, babe. Gotta go.” I hang up and give the cab driver directions before sinking into the back seat. This day is just beginning, but I’m ready for it to be over. I can cope with most things, but hangovers are not one of them. Drinking is something I usually avoid for this very reason. I haven’t felt this ill in three years—not since the killer hangover I ended up with from my twenty-fifth birthday celebrations that Sienna organised. A girls’ weekend away at a winery in the Hunter Valley with ten of your closest friends will do it to you every time.

I attempt to make myself presentable for my appointment. Five minutes later, I’ve removed the mess of yesterday’s make-up from my face and have applied new foundation, all the while cursing Rodney Stein. Who has a Sunday wedding, anyway? He was the one who pushed for that day and then he didn’t even have the hide to show up. Sarah had been devastated. Naturally. Six years of her l

ife with that man, gone.

“And to not have the fucking balls to tell her in person…,” I mutter as I apply eye shadow.

“Did you say something, ma’am?”

My head jerks up at the cab driver’s question and I make eye contact in his rear-view mirror. “Sorry, talking to myself,” I reply before looking back down at my compact.

Not bad.

My make-up skills have come in handy. I may be able to pull this off.

Except for the dress you’re wearing that screams, ‘I spent last night in a hotel with a guy I just met’.

I smooth the red satin material of the dress I’m wearing—the dress that shows just a little too much cleavage for a business meeting. I would have preferred to meet Ashton Scott looking anything but a woman who has just completed her first walk of shame. The guy is a legend in the business world and I want to make a good impression. The day his assistant phoned asking if I’d see him to discuss something that would benefit both of us, I jumped at the chance.

I’m going to kill Rodney Stein if I ever see him again.

The cab jerks to a halt and the red lipstick I’m applying ends up all over my cheek.

Worst. Morning. Ever.

Fuck you, Rodney Stein.

* * *

“Lorelei!” Sienna stands as I enter our shared office. Her brown eyes widen in the way they do when she’s pissed off but doesn’t want to show it. “I’ll leave you and Ashton to it,” she says. As she brushes past me, she mutters, “Good luck with that arrogant asshole. I’ll bring you back a toasted caramel macchiato. You’re going to need it.”

She breezes out of the room and I turn to find Ashton Scott watching me from where he’s standing near the window.

Sweet baby Jesus, the man is something else. Dark hair, chiselled jaw, tanned skin and fit—he’s the kind of man pretty much any woman I know would kill to have in her bed. The thing that’s getting my panties in a twist? The way he’s wearing his five o’clock shadow first thing in the morning. Not to mention the way he’s teamed jeans with a black dress shirt and black jacket. It’s like a ‘fuck you’ to the business world he inhabits—a fuck you that I like.

His gaze travels the length of me, resting for a moment on my cleavage, before finding my eyes again. A bolt of heat hits me and I swallow hard.

Switch your damn brain on, Lorelei.

I want to impress him with my business savvy. Lust has no place here.

I move to where he’s standing and extend my hand. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Scott. I’m Lorelei Winters.”

Really?

He knows who you are. He came to you, remember?


Tags: Nina Levine Romance