Love Arranged (Lakefront Billionaires, #3)

by Lauren Asher

Whatever drunken bravado she had during her outburst fades, all while the uncomfortable silence between us grows. It’s hard to speak, let alone breathe, in her presence, given her addictive scent of flowers, wine, and something I can’t place. I’d spend the whole car ride trying to determine what it could be, but her speaking ruins the idea. “Don’t be angry at Willow,” she says once the lakefront bungalow is in my rearview mirror. “A little too late for that.” Her hands clench against her lap. “It wasn’t her fault.” “Did you force her to talk about it?” “No.” “Then she clearly didn’t have a good enough reason to break her NDA.”

“You can’t fire her.” Lily turns to look at me. I don’t return her stare. “I can do whatever I please after she broke our agreement.” “No.” She grabs my arm. Usually I find people’s touch repulsive, yet whenever Lily lays a hand on me, my body doesn’t shudder with revulsion. It craves more, and that kind of obsession is exactly why I stayed away from her once we met face-to-face after talking on Eros.

“If you fire her, I’ll make you regret it.” I can’t help laughing. “Are you threatening me?” She lifts her chin. “Yes.” “And pray tell, what will you do if I fire her?” “Make your life miserable.” Not a hard task given the state of it, but I’m curious enough to ask, “How so?” Lily is the type of woman who will get upset over killing a bug, so I can’t picture her doing much harm. “I could ruin your campaign like that.” She snaps her fingers. An amused huff slips out of me. “I’d love to know how.” “You’re not the only one who could run for mayor.” “Since when are you interested in local politics?” “It’s a relatively new discovery.” “How new are we talking?” “Thirty seconds, give or take.”

“Maybe not everyone, but I only need enough people to pick me over you to do some damage. And who knows. Maybe the town prefers me over you and that other asshole.” “Trevor?” I’m more surprised by Lily calling him an asshole than her flawed plan because I’ve never heard her speak ill toward anyone, let alone call someone an asshole. What does she have against the Ludlows, or better yet, what did they do to her? Her nose twitches. “Yes. Him. It’s not like he’s a good candidate either, so I’d be doing everyone a favor by jumping into the race.”

“What has Willow ever done to deserve this kind of loyalty from you?” “For starters, she didn’t pretend to care about me when she only wanted a fake fiancée, so I automatically like her more than you.” “I…” I what? Yes, it’s true I joined the app to find a fake fiancée, but I ended up liking her more than I should’ve, which is why I cut her out of my life. I had ignored the warning signs—like the urge to constantly check my phone or the worst-case scenarios that played out in my head whenever she didn’t answer my messages quick enough—until it was too late. All it took was one meeting and I became paranoid about growing obsessed with her, like my father was with my mother. They both taught me obsessive thoughts only lead to an early grave, and I refuse to leave this world without stopping Trevor from becoming mayor.

“Classic Lorenzo, avoiding questions like a real politician.” “I’m avoiding hurting your feelings.” “You’re a little too late.” The way she slurs her words makes me think she wouldn’t have admitted that under any other circumstance. “You’re drunk,” I say instead. “What I am is sick of all this and you.” Her voice cracks. “Were you ever interested in a relationship? Or was it all a part of your bigger plan to become mayor?”

“Got it.” I want to tell her that yes, there were fleeting moments where I wondered if I was capable of a relationship like the one she desired, but I wasn’t in the mindset for one. I’m still not in the right headspace. Not when I need to focus on my plan to protect the place my parents loved, and definitely not while I still struggle with being surrounded by memories of my father’s obsessive need to make my mother’s dream of living in Lake Wisteria come true.

Lily is quiet for a few minutes before she talks again. “Why not ask Willow to pick a fiancée from the start? Why try finding one through an app?” I keep my mouth sealed. “I deserve the truth,” she says when I don’t answer. “At least give me that.” My stomach muscles spasm at the idea of hurting her—a weakness that only applies to her—but I take a deep breath and stroke the dice in my pocket to ground myself. “I was bored.” She sucks in a breath. I continue, knowing my answer will destroy any positive feelings she might still have toward me. “You were the first person who messaged me, and I thought you were funny. I didn’t expect anything more than a single conversation, but then you messaged me the next morning…and that night…and I don’t know. It went on way longer than I expected.” She covers her mouth with the palm of her hand, and tears fill her eyes. I feel like shit—complete and utter shit at causing her any distress whatsoever. “Why did you agree to meet up, then? You could’ve used it as an out.”

“I will admit that I was curious about what you looked like and why you’d use an anonymous app when you clearly have a decent personality.” The silence is suffocating. “Then I met you, and it all made sense. You’re too…” She makes a choking sound, and it feels as if she wrapped her small hands around my heart. “Too…” I struggle to think of something strong enough to deter her. “Too what?” Her voice sounds so damn distant, and I realize it’s because she’s moved as far away from me as humanly possible by tucking her body against the door. I deserve the sick feeling bubbling in my stomach and much more as I throw the final emotional punch. “You were too much for someone like me.” You wanted kids, a husband, and a dog, while I only cared about myself, I want to tell her. You’d spend all your energy defending a man who your family doesn’t like and never will, I nearly add. I would’ve become obsessed with you. Completely, utterly, undeniably obsessed, and it would’ve killed me in the process. “Pull over!”

Shit! Is she about to open the door to a moving vehicle? “I’m going to be sick!” she shouts with misty eyes. “Fuck! Hold on.” I turn the wheel to the right, nearly swiping another car parked along Main Street in the process of parking in the emergency lane. Lily jumps out of my truck before I can pull to a full stop. I’m not fast enough, so she is already bent over and retching in front of the fire hydrant by the time I get to her. I reach for her hair and pull it back from her face. “I hate you.” She lets out a strangled sob that chips away at my icy heart. “I know.” I adjust my grip on her hair so I can capture a few loose strands that were hanging in her eyes. “You taking care of me right now changes nothing.” I tighten my hold. “Wasn’t expecting it to.” “I’m aiming for your precious little Ferragamos next.” “They’re far from little, but be my guest. I deserve it and worse.”

Obsessive thoughts about cleanliness rise to the forefront, waging a war against my better judgment. My inner voice is loud and intrusive as it says, She could pass that sickness along to you. She’s drunk, not sick, I try to reason. Are you absolutely sure, though? What if she passes something along and you’re bedridden for weeks? Weeks? That’s ridiculous.

I release the makeshift ponytail I made. I doubt she wants her hair in her face right now, so I gently remove the hair tie from her wrist and pull it back—something I’ve never done for another woman before. I ignore why that is and say, “I’m going to run inside the bar and get you some water.” “Okay.” I pluck her hand from my thigh, ignoring the electricity shooting across my skin as I direct her toward a bench. “Stay.” “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” I rush inside Last Call, ignoring the people gathered around the window who witnessed Lily’s incident. Their attention is redirected to me as I head over to the bar for a cup of water.

I’m placing the pitcher on the ground when she goes to stand. She seems to overestimate her sobriety, and she stumbles forward. I jump to my feet and wrap an arm around her to stop her from falling over. “You good?” She leans into me and shuts her eyes. “I’ll answer once the world stops spinning.” I take the opportunity to get a good look at her. Even with tangled hair, a sickly tinge to her skin, and smeared eye makeup, I still can’t take my eyes off her. “I can feel you staring at me,” she says without ever opening her eyes. I deflect in an act of self-preservation. “Your mascara is running.” “Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get any worse.” I grab my pocket square and wipe at her cheeks and underneath her eyes before cleaning the corners of her mouth. Throw that infested rag away right now, the voice speaks up. I’m about to when I look up from her mouth to find her staring back at me with wide eyes. “What?” She looks away. “Feeling a little dizzy.”

Lily and I seem to be collecting witnesses like some protection program. “Lorenzo.” Jane shoots me an indecipherable look before her attention is diverted to the fire hydrant. “Are you okay?” Lily winces, and I absorb the recoil like it’s my own. I’d remove my arm from around her waist, but Lily still looks shaky, so I keep my hand glued to her hip, pretending I don’t notice the slight tingle in my fingertips at the close contact. “I’m not feeling my best,” Lily replies. “What happened?” “I think I got a bad case of food poisoning.” “Oh no!” Jane’s gaze flickers over to me. “Good thing Lorenzo was here to help you.” She sounds genuine. “Yeah, he was giving me a ride home.” Her eyes comically widen when she notices the mistake. “From where?” Jane asks, giving me a second glance. “Uh…” Lily scrambles, making our situation worse. I step in. “I took her out to dinner to apologize for the incident with her car.”

Lily slips out of my hold and manages three whole steps in the wrong direction before I loop my arm around her and direct her back to my truck. “I really hate you,” she says as I help her inside. After tonight’s confession, I’m inclined to believe her.

LILY

The next morning, I wake up with the worst hangover, and no amount of greasy food or pain relievers can fully cure it. I haven’t made myself sick from drinking in years, so I’m still shocked about what happened. Part of me wishes I blacked out because I remember the conversation Lorenzo and I had right before I told him to pull over, and I’ve been suffering from an ache in my chest whenever I think of him since. You were too much for me, Lorenzo said, driving a knife through my already-bleeding heart. What utter bullshit. I’ve heard a variation of those words before from past men I’ve dated, and while I wondered if Lorenzo felt similarly, it still hurts to have my worries confirmed.

“We know the letter must’ve come as quite a shock,” Mayor Ludlow speaks. “But Trevor is going to make sure everyone is taken care of and given first dibs on the new retail spaces.” “How thoughtful of him to offer us an opportunity to buy our own properties back for quadruple the price.” “We understand rent prices have gotten a bit out of hand…” the mayor says. “But we’re partnering with the local bank to offer small business loans to those who are misplaced.” “You mean the bank you own?” The mayor’s smile falters. “Yes, but our rates are competitive, I assure you.” Richard, who probably suggested Lavender Lane for this plan to spite me, says, “For the price we’re paying for the building, you should be grateful.” “I guess I’m too blinded by my rage to appreciate your generosity.”

“You know how many women would have been grateful to be in your shoes?” he asks. I’m not sure how I keep from gagging. “Sounds like you shouldn’t have a hard time finding someone else, then.” “I liked you. I really did, to the point where I was willing to look past your particular…quirks.” His gaze is as demeaning as his words, but I act like they bounce off the white two-piece set I borrowed from my sister, even though that isn’t the case. Judgy gazes or comments like his are why I started dressing like I do now. Because my closet and the clothes I wear reflect who I am at my core, and I’m not interested in sharing that part of my heart with people who openly judge me or use it against me.

“But I should’ve known you were too good to be true. That there had to be a reason most men stay away from you, including the one you still had feelings for, and it isn’t because you’re a prude like some people assume.”

My mom breaks down as soon as I walk inside her bedroom. “I’m sorry, Liliana,” she cries, her anguish etched into the fine lines of her face. “I tried to talk to the mayor, but then he showed me all the plans, and he tripled the money the city council is offering if I signed the NDA right there. I couldn’t say no. Not when I knew there was nothing I could say or do to change his mind.” All my rage from earlier today is wiped away, replaced with worry. “Mami.” I help her take a seat at her vanity. “Take a few deep breaths.”

Richard successfully trapped me, but I won’t accept my fate without putting up a fight. Un Muñoz nunca se rinde⁠*, I tell myself while accidently crumpling the pages of the NDA. My mom’s wide-eyed gaze flickers over my face. “Please don’t be angry at me.” I smooth the paper out and get better control over my facial expression. “I’m not angry.” Disappointed, yes, but how can I be angry when she is clearly struggling with her choice?

LORENZO

“When you hear the name Lorenzo Vittori, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?” The responses are mixed, ranging from casinos and fancy cars to charity fundraisers and Julian Lopez’s nemesis. “Lily.” Nura, a woman I recognize from my time volunteering at the animal shelter, speaks up. Someone goes “Aw.” “What do you mean?” a person near the head of the table asks. “I was at Last Call the other night when Lily got sick and Lorenzo took care of her.”

“I was there too. It was sweet of Lorenzo to hold Lily’s hair back.” “Talk about doing the bare minimum,” a woman replies in a sarcastic tone. “Actually, he wiped her tears, cleaned her mouth, and ran inside the bar to get her some water, so I’d say he did way more than that.” “Has anyone texted Lily to see how she is feeling?” a woman fidgeting with her pearl necklace asks.

Someone asks, “Am I the only one who’s confused? What was Lily doing with Lorenzo?” The woman decked out in pearls replies, “I heard a rumor that they had dinner together before she got sick.”

Nura lifts her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I’m not surprised to see them together.” “Why not?” the person at the back of the table asks. “They both volunteer at the shelter, so they’ve crossed paths before.” Everyone speaks at once, and it’s chaotic trying to absorb all their responses. “Wait. Lorenzo volunteers at the shelter?” “I didn’t know he liked animals.” “Lily and Lorenzo? There’s no way. Julian hates him.” My gaze flicks to the ceiling. This is what you get for trying to be nice. Willow halts her pacing and drops into the chair beside me. “I’m interested in seeing how this all plays out.” “In what sense?” “It’s Public Relations 101. If you—a man without any connections to the town—are seen with one of the most beloved residents, it’s bound to have a positive effect on your approval rating.” “Are you suggesting I hang around Lily some more?” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “I shouldn’t after the stunt you pulled on her.”

“How much influence could a few encounters have?” “They brought her homemade soup, Lorenzo. You know what happened to me when I got the stomach bug in January?” “You got soup too?” “No, I wish. I was stuck heating up a can of Campbell’s while Lily, the people’s princess, was given the royal treatment.” She follows up with a laugh, so at least she isn’t bitter about the favoritism. “It makes perfect sense why people would react so positively to you taking care of her. They adore her.”

“I think we should do a little experiment,” Willow says once the focus group moves on to answering another question. “Based on the smile on your face, I’m good.” “What if I told you there’s a chance it could impact your polling numbers?” “In that case, I’m a huge fan of the scientific method.”

But if I want to see an impact on my town approval rating, I need to step out of my comfort zone, and doing so means ditching the clipboard and heading toward the crowded tent full of people, dogs, and Lily. It isn’t fair for me to use her after I rejected her. I’m well aware of that, and honestly I’m ashamed by the idea, but not enough to stop myself. I have too much on the line and not enough time to come up with a better plan. Lily catches me by surprise by waving at me. A few people turn to see who she’s looking at, including myself, only for me to curse when I don’t see anyone around.

Lily walks over to me when my eyes are closed. “Here.” She presses a cold water bottle against my chest. “Look at you caring about my well-being.” “Well, unfortunately for me, you can’t become mayor if you’re dead,” she replies with a toothy smile. “Since when do you care whether I win the election?” “Since I realized you’re the best of two bad options.” I place a hand over my heart. “Can I use that quote on an ad?” “If you want my endorsement, I’m sure there are better quotes you can use.”

Lily’s gaze falls to my mouth. “What?” “Nothing.” I crack open the water bottle she gave me and drink half of it in a few gulps. Her eyes drop to my throat before she quickly looks away, her cheeks burning like she was standing in the sun. Clearly affection may come and go, but attraction is a lot more difficult to shake. I would know. She doesn’t look at me when she asks, “Don’t you have a parking lot to work?” “Eh. I think I’ll hang out in here for a bit.” “Just my luck.” She grimaces.

LILY

“Julian is speaking at a fundraiser event for my charity.” “I wasn’t aware you had one,” Dahlia replies. Lorenzo steps closer to my chair, so his arm ends up brushing against mine. “It’s still pretty new. I started Healing Hearts over two years ago.” “What’s it for?” “Supporting families affected by drunk drivers.” My sister’s eyes soften. “That’s a great cause.” Our town hasn’t faced many tragedies, so everyone knows about how Lorenzo’s parents died in a hit-and-run accident. While the other driver was never found, could they have been drinking? If so, how did they get away?

Lorenzo takes a seat on the empty barstool next to mine and casually wraps his arm around the back of my chair like we do this all the time—a move Julian takes note of immediately. Before anyone can comment on it, Lorenzo states, “Rafa came to me for help, and I delivered, so that’s all that matters.” “Couldn’t you have helped him for free?” I ask, somewhat snippy. “That would require a conscience, and Lorenzo was born without one.” Julian smirks. “I’m sure Lily would disagree with you.” Lorenzo turns to hit me with an incriminating smile. “Especially after what happened the other night?” He teases the end of my ponytail as he winds a strand around his finger. What is going on here? Speaking at the adoption event is one thing, but touching me like this in front of everyone? Did he get abducted by aliens?

“On the contrary, I take Lily’s health very seriously.” He pushes my cup of water closer to me. I respond by kicking my foot out. I aim for the leg of his chair, but I accidentally hit his shin instead. Oops. “One kind act doesn’t make you a hero,” I reply with a tight smile. “So you admit I’m kind.” “Only on rare occasions when it benefits you.” “In what way did you puking all over my Ferragamos benefit me?” My sister’s mouth falls open. “Wait. She what?” “There’s a reason Lily skipped out on her regular passion-fruit vodka seltzer tonight.”

“I had too much to drink, and Lorenzo offered to drive me home. I ended up feeling sick during the car ride, and the rest is too embarrassing to talk about.” Julian makes a noise of discontent. “I’m not sure what disappoints me more: you getting drunk enough to think Lorenzo driving you home was a good idea, or you not getting sick inside his car.” Lorenzo’s smile drops. “I’d never take advantage of her or any other woman, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Now that everyone knows about Lily’s and my relationship, I thought there was no point in hiding it anymore.” Dahlia’s mouth falls open. “Your what?” “Friendship,” I correct, although it kills me to suggest such a thing. My sister doesn’t look happy at the word. “You two are…friends? Since when?” Great question I’d love to know the answer to.

“Me jealous of my cousin? He is the one who wishes he was me because unlike him, I had the courage to walk away from everything.” Acid churns in my belly at Lorenzo’s candidness. Julian raises his brow. “You couldn’t keep your emotions out of business decisions? That doesn’t sound like a trait we need in our future mayor.” “Julian,” I reply with a hiss, directing my frustration at him. “Enough.” “¿Dije algo mal?⁠*” He tries to look apologetic, but it fails to work on me. “¿Puedes tratar de comportarte bien?⁠*” “Él empezó⁠*.” He huffs. “Tienes treinta y un años, por el amor de Dios. Acomporta así.⁠*” Lorenzo smirks as he replies in Spanish, “Treinta y uno y todavía molesto conmigo por lo de Papá Noel.⁠*” Lorenzo speaking Spanish was not on tonight’s bingo card—that’s for sure. “You speak Spanish?” Dahlia’s mouth remains wide open. “Surprise.” Lorenzo arches a brow at my sister. “And yes, I’ve heard you and Julian talk shit about me before.”

“Will you two ever get bored of antagonizing each other?” my sister asks. “No,” they both say at the same time. Dahlia laughs. “Right. Just checking.” “But for Lily’s sake, I’m willing to put our past aside.” Lorenzo looks over at me, his dark eyes full of mischief. “Can we have a quick chat in private?” Lorenzo slides off the barstool before making a show of pulling mine out. “Lead the way.”

LORENZO

Lily doesn’t stop to check if I’m following her down the hall until she opens the emergency exit, which leads to an empty alley behind the bar. We both have been here before, although the last time she was wearing a pink bedazzled outfit and I was hiding behind a mask. “Well, isn’t this a trip down memory lane?” I ask with a dry tone. She slams the door shut and whirls around, her hair whipping me in the face in the process. “What the hell was that back there?” She pokes me in the chest. “You spent the last several months ignoring me, only to have a complete personality transplant?” “There’s a good reason.” “I’m waiting to hear it.” I stroke my chin. “I have a theory, but you’d need to sign an NDA first.” She scowls. “I’m not signing an NDA, so either you trust me to keep whatever private information you share tonight between us or I head inside and go back to ignoring your existence like you’ve done for nearly a year.” “You can’t.” I rush to get the words out. “Why not?” “Because I need you.” She laughs, but it’s hollow. “Let me guess—this has something to do with the campaign.” “Yes.” “You seriously think I’m going to let you use me for political gain when you don’t even like me?” I blink twice. “I never said I disliked you.” “Your actions say otherwise.”

I’m driven by some unknown force when I reach for her chin and direct her head back to me. “If my actions said anything, it was that I liked you too damn much, Lily. That was my problem. Never you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Or special?” Her upper lip curls. “Because the way you ghosted me isn’t how you treat someone you like too much.”

“We spent two months talking, Lorenzo. Two months of you being the first person I texted in the morning, and two months of you being the last person I spoke to before I went to sleep. It was nearly impossible to get you to share anything personal, but when you did—like that story about when your uncle broke your nose—it felt like we were finally getting somewhere.” She holds my stare and forces me to look into her glassy eyes. “During that time, I thought what we had was unique. That it was real.”

She points at herself. “I was honest about what I wanted, and you made me believe you were looking for the same. You made me wish for more, and then you took that hope and destroyed it like I didn’t matter. So no, I don’t believe you liked me too much. On the contrary, I don’t think you like me enough.”

“I wasn’t looking for anything real when I joined the app, but meeting you made me consider it.”

“I’d never expect you to forgive me for what I did, and I hope you don’t because I don’t deserve it. But I am sorry for how I treated you after we met, and I’m sorry for leading you on before that. I had every intention of ending things after you told me about your thirty-year plan, but then I made up excuses for why I wasn’t ready to let you go. Reasons like I was bored or entertained or lonely. “I wanted you to tell me why you loved bees enough to create a garden for them or what made you want to buy a cottage versus some big house. I wanted to know you, and in the process I realized I could never ask you to play the part of my fake fiancée. You deserved someone who could give you that thirty-year plan, and he wasn’t me.”

She nods. “Now tell me why you’re acting like we’re friends in front of everyone.” “It’s stupid.” I scrub a hand down my face. “And I won’t do it again.” I can’t. I’ll figure out a different way to boost the public’s opinion of me without dragging Lily into it. She crosses her arms. “That’s not an explanation, Lorenzo.” I have no choice but to answer her, even if it makes me look like an ass. “I was seeing if you helped improve my image. I’m falling behind in the polls, and if I don’t fix it, I’ll lose the election.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” “Everyone in town likes you. All it took was one public sighting of me holding your hair back and a focus group is already using it as an example of why I’m not so bad, so I wanted to test out a theory and see whether hanging around you has a positive effect on my reputation.” She blinks once. Twice. Three times, and I still have no response. “What do you think?” I ask. “You want my honest opinion?” “Do your worst.” “That’s a terrible idea. I’m sorry, but there’s no way it’ll work, and even if it did have some impact on your polling numbers, they wouldn’t be long-lasting.”