“Why not?”

“He’s not the guy for you.”

“Why not? Is he a player like you?”

“Lucky.” He put his finger under my chin and stared at me hard. “Don’t test my patience.”

“Or what?” I rolled my eyes as he got into the car next to me, and I put my phone in my bag again.

“Can you just trust me here, Lucky?”

“Why? I don’t even know you.”

“You know me.” His eyes bore into me, and I sighed. He was right. I knew that at the end of the day, he was a nice guy. He had always been a nice guy to me at the restaurant; what he did with the other women had nothing to do with me.

“Fine, let’s go to breakfast.” I let out a huge sigh and shook my head at him. “I don’t understand you, Zane Beaumont.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand myself either.” His tone was tinged with irony and another emotion I couldn’t place. “But thank you for giving me a chance.” His hand reached over to my knee, and he squeezed it, looking at me gratefully.

“I don’t know why.” I whispered under my breath. I stared out of the window, wondering what I was doing. I felt like I was Alice and I was now in Wonderland. Everything I felt was upside down, and a part of my brain was telling me to just forget my rules and let this path take me wherever it wanted to go.

“I didn’t wait all night for you to stop dancing around the room with Braydon like a contestant on Dancing With the Stars for nothing.” Zane muttered, and I gasped.

“Wait? You were waiting to make sure I didn’t go home with Braydon last night, weren’t you?” I looked over at Zane, glaring at his causal demeanor.

“I told you. I wanted to make sure you got home okay,” Zane growled, and looked at me quickly. “You don’t need to be hanging out with Braydon Eagle, Lucky.”

“Because you’re so much better, right?” I barked out at him and sat back, scared as Zane pulled over to the side of the highway, stopped, and turned towards me.

“I have to tell you something, Lucky.”

Chapter 5

“What you have to tell me has to be said on the side of the road and not in a restaurant?” I asked sarcastically.

“Will you just let me talk?”

“I suppose that’s my duty, so go ahead.” I bowed my head submissively with my hands clasped in my lap and waited for him to talk.

“Lucky, you’re too much. You know that, right?”

“I’m waiting.”

“Let’s go and get breakfast, and I will tell you after we eat.”

“Are you joking me right now, Zane Beaumont? You’re not just going to keep me hanging, are you?”

“I need a tall, black coffee before I can deal with you, Lucky.” He laughed, and started the car and pulled back onto the road.

“I need pancakes and bacon.” I licked my lips and laughed at his words. Why was it was easy to forgive Zane and his comments?

“I don’t like my subs eating bacon.” There was a lightness in Zane’s voice, and I laughed at his deep husky voice.

“You’re never going to let me off for that comment, are you?”

“Well, it’s not every day that a girl asks me if I want her to be my sub.” He paused for a moment. “And you know that I have to ask why you even asked me that now.”

“Argh,” I groaned, embarrassed.

“Is there something I should know about you, Lucky? Are you a student and server by day and a dominatrix by night?”

“Uhm, if I was a dominatrix, I wouldn’t be asking you if you wanted me to be your sub,” I laughed.

“So you know a lot about that world, huh?” Zane looked at me quickly with a slight grin, and I punched his shoulder.

“Actually, no.” I laughed. “I’ve read a few books that were about couples who were living those lifestyles.”

“And it made you interested?”

“No.” My voice was sharper than I had intended. “No. I don’t think I would be cut out to be a dom or a sub.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so either.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just that I can’t see you in either role in the bedroom.”

“You’ve thought about me in the bedroom?” I gasped out, surprised and slightly tickled.

“Well, no.” He laughed. “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to get myself in trouble again.”

“Uh huh.” I knew I was taking the conversation down a slippery path, but I felt a flush run through me as I thought about him thinking about me. It was a warm and happy feeling, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible.

“I think you’re addicted to sex.”

“What?” I laughed.

“You’re always bringing it up.”

“No, I’m not.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yes you are.”

“Then let’s make a bet now. The next person to bring up sex has to give the other person—”

“A na**d massage.” Zane interrupted me as he pulled into a parking lot.

“You wish.” I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe I do.” He licked his lips, and we got out of the car.

“Starting from now, the next person that mentions sex has to give the other person $100.”

“Whoa Lucky, I don’t want to take your money.”

“I’ll be taking yours and I’m not worried about taking it.” We both laughed and walked into the IHOP.

“Oh Lucky, so honest and so confident.”

“I’m thinking about what I’m going to spend my $100 on,” I purred, as we walked to our table. I opened the menu eagerly, trying to decide what I wanted to eat. My stomach was growling at the smell of grease, and I wanted to stuff my face with many items on the menu.

“Do you know what you want to get?”

“I want to get eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast, and hash browns.” I laughed. “And I’m also eyeing the crepes.”

“Small appetite.”

“Well you know how we supermodels do it.”

“Oh of course, you need a big breakfast before the catwalk.”

“Exactly, or the wind will blow us away.”

“We can’t have the wind blowing you away now.” Zane winked at me, and I leaned towards him with a grin.

“Exactly, not when I’m doing a service to mankind, showing off ugly dresses that cost thousands of dollars.”

“If you want me to buy you one such dress, let me know.”

“I can afford to buy it myself …” I laughed. “Goodwill has plenty of designs that match those on the catwalk, and I can buy several outfits for $20.”

“Well then, here you go.” Zane took out his wallet and dropped $20 on the table. “Go crazy on me.”

I grabbed the $20 and used it to fan myself. “Why thank you, Mr. Beaumont, I do say I think you are my hero right now.” I spoke in a deep Southern accent, and he laughed.

“Maybe I should introduce you to my dad, it seems to me that you could have a huge career in acting.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, kind sir? I’m no actress, I’m just a Southern belle.”

“I do like me a Southern belle.” At this point, Zane and I were staring into each other’s eyes, and our faces were inches away from each other. If I moved forward slightly, our lips would be touching.

“Hi, thanks for coming to IHOP. Can I get you guys some drinks?” A sour-looking, older lady was standing at the table, glaring at us, and I sat back quickly, embarrassed to have been caught in a non-intimate, intimate moment.

“Can I have a small orange juice and a glass of coffee, please?” I smiled at the lady, and she stared back at me with a surly look.

“And you, sir?” She turned away from me and looked at Zane.

“I’ll have the same thing as my fine, young debutant.”

The lady rolled her eyes and flipped a page on her notepad. “Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few minutes.”

“I’m ready, you Lucky?” Zane wiggled his eyebrows at me, and I held in a laugh.

“Yes. I’m ready. I’ll have the International Passport Breakfast, please.”

“And I’ll have a ham, green pepper, and cheese omelet, please.” Zane smiled at the lady, and she gave him a hard stare.

“I’ll have the drinks out in a few minutes.” She turned around and walked back to the kitchen.

“And this why I come to your diner every Friday.” Zane laughed.

“Oh really, why?”

“Because I have the best server in all of Miami at Lou’s.”

“Shayla is pretty good.”

“Not as good as a girl called Lucky.”

“Well, you know what they say. Girls who go through cotillion make the best servers.”

“I guess I learn something new every day.” He laughed and then frowned as his phone rang. “Sorry, will you excuse me, please Lucky, I have to take this.”

“Sure.” I smiled at him, trying to ignore the curiosity that was creeping up in me. Who was on the phone? I wanted to know, and yet, I didn’t. I knew that if I found out it was Angelique, my mood would be ruined. I decided to distract myself from eavesdropping on his conversation and pulled out my phone while I waited.

“Did you speak to him?” Zane hissed into the phone. “So what did he say?”

I bit my lip, wondering who had made him so angry.

“Flying?” He sighed. “Do you know who the girl was?”

I opened my text messages, pleasantly surprised to see that Braydon had text me back, asking me to join him for dinner that evening. I was about to turn my phone off without answering when I heard Zane say. “I’ll give her a call and see if I can take her on a date next week.”

I kept my face down, hurt and upset, and quickly responded to Braydon’s text: That sounds great. What time were you thinking?

“Sorry about that.” Zane’s voice interrupted me.

“No problem.”

“So what were we talking about?” He asked me with a brief smile. His eyes looked distracted, and I could tell that his mind was still on his phone call.

“I don’t remember. Maybe you can tell me what you had to say?”

“What I had to say?” He looked at me with a blank expression.

“When you pulled over on the highway.” I frowned. “You said you had something to tell me.”

“Oh yes.” He paused. “It’s not important.”

“You can’t just say that now. I want to know.”

“Lucky.” He leaned towards me again and spoke in a low tone. “I want you to be my undercover lover. I want us to reenact all the scenes from Fifty Shades of Christian and …”

My mouth dropped open as I looked at him. I knew he was a freak. Or more appropriately, a kinky freak. “You what? Do you mean Fifty Shades of Grey?”

Zane burst out laughing and nodded his head. “Sorry, I had to see your face. I’m taking it that you read the book.”

“That is not funny.” I frowned and ignored his question. “You owe me $100.”

Zane pulled out his wallet and took out another set of twenties. “In all seriousness Lucky, I want you to come with me to Los Angeles tomorrow.”

“I can’t go to Los Angeles.” I shook my head. “I have school, and I have to work.”

“Okay.” He sat back and smiled at the waitress as she placed our plates on the table.

“What do you mean, okay?” I frowned. “That’s it. You’re not even going to tell me why?”

“You told me you couldn’t come.”

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t be convinced.” I sprinkled some salt and pepper across my eggs. “Convince me.”

“What are you studying, Lucky?” Zane cut into his omelet. “Last night I think you told me history, right? You know a lot about civil rights stuff?” He spoke nonchalantly.

“Yeah history.” I nodded.

“I like history.” He smiled as he chewed. “It suits you.”

“Why does it suit me? Became I’m old and dowdy.”

“I’d hardly call a supermodel old and dowdy.”

“Then why does history suit me?” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“It shows me that you’re a thinker. You’re intelligent. You care about the past. You care about people. You care about not making the same mistake twice.”

“What did you study in school?”

“I was a British Literature major.” He grinned. “Very very useful degree.”

“About as useful as it is to know the names of all of King Henry VIII’s wives.” I laughed.

“We all know about King Henry VIII.” Zane laughed. “He left the Catholic church so he could get a divorce from Anne Boleyn, right? Or was it Catherine of Aragon?”

“Smart.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Name for me all of his wives and I’ll be even more impressed.”

“Do they have to be in order?”

“No.” I grinned.

“Okay, that’s easy.” He grinned back at me. “Catherine of Aragon, Mary, Anne Boleyn, and uhm, the other Boleyn sister.”

I burst out laughing as he frowned. “The other Boleyn sister?”

“Right?” He cocked his head. “Or was that a movie.”