Submit and Surrender Read Free Page A

girlfriend until she’d said the words out loud. The idea made her instantly nauseous.
    Lola paused, her hand on the doorknob to Ford’s office, the door already open an inch.
    “Honestly?” she said, her eyes soft. “It could go either way.”
    “Fantastic,” Adra muttered.
    Lola took Adra’s hand in her own and gave it a warm squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” she said.
    Adra almost believed her. Until she heard Ford’s voice on the other side of the door.
    “Of course it was a goddamn mistake,” Ford said to someone, presumably Roman. He sounded angry. Adra didn’t need to hear the rest to know what he was talking about, and it broke her heart a little bit all over again.
    Lola cursed, and banged on the already open door.
    “Gentlemen?” she said.
    Adra forced herself through the door and into Ford’s office. There were three people already there: some guy in a Hollywood suit that Adra didn’t immediately know, though he looked kind of familiar; Roman Casta, the owner of the New York club; and Ford.
    Jesus, Ford.
    He was standing on the opposite side of his desk, leaning forward on those ridiculous arms, muscles wrapping around like steel cables. He was wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a tank top, a hoodie draped over the back of his chair—he must have been on a run. This was one of the rare times Adra got to see him like this now that they didn’t spend weekends hanging out anymore. She had to remind herself not to drool. And for the first time in a long time, she saw an emotion on his face—surprise? Regret? Then frustration, and anger.
    He was looking right at her.
    She was the mistake.
    It killed her to see what he thought of her now, but maybe that was good. Maybe it was good to kill all hope that they could recover their friendship. Maybe that’s what she needed to move on.
    Adra decided not to ask what they were talking about. She was only slightly masochistic, something Ford already knew.
    “Hi Roman,” she said, giving the big man a quick peck on the cheek. “You guys should have told me you were in California.”
    “We did,” Roman smiled down at her. “Eventually.”
    Adra looked back at Lola to find the woman actually blushing, and couldn’t help but laugh. Roman and Lola had been friends for years, but once they figured out they’d both been secretly in love with each other for nearly all of that time, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other. And now that Adra had firsthand experience in how much time and energy it took to run a sex club, she figured they’d probably been dying to have one last getaway before the baby came.
    Even now, Roman looked at Lola like everything else in the world was just a shadow. What would that be like? To have the man you loved look at you like that?
    Adra couldn’t help it. She looked at Ford.
    He was still looking at her.
    “Adra,” Ford said.
    She may have blinked. She definitely caught her breath.
    “Roman wants us to consult on a film,” Ford said. He was leaning on his fists, his knuckles white. He only did that when something was really bothering him.
    Dazed, Adra said, “Wait, what?”
    The man in the Hollywood suit stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “That’s my cue. We met at the Golden Globes last year, Adra. Roger Corvis.”
    Oh God, Adra thought. She recognized the name. It had been everywhere lately.
    “You’re a producer,” she said weakly. His hand felt cold.
    “Yes, I am,” Corvis grinned. “Working on a big one.”
    Oh please, no.
    “They want to film it here. At the club. Starting this week.” Ford was still looking directly at her. “I think it’s a mistake.”
    Adra sat down heavily in one of Ford’s plush chairs. “They want to film it here?”
    “And we want you and Ford to consult on production,” Roman added. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the film— Submit and Surrender ?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Adra said. She was feeling light headed. “Can’t miss it. Billboards