Cougar's Luck (Pacific Northwest Cougars Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

she could check her email.
    Scanning through her “top secret” emails, she saw her DJ for the weekend confirmed. DJ Dez was a celebrity in his own right, but oddly was one of the few that didn’t have a manager or flunky do his booking for him.
    Her usual three DJ rotation for next week was in place. She knew her supplies were being unloaded and her brain traveled over what the weekend vibe should be. DJ Dez was able to mix upbeat dance and hip-hop with classic old school R&B. That felt like a blue and purple weekend. Making a note to change up the color palette before opening, she continued scanning through the rest of her email. Two from her wayward sisters. They were total bitches and she loved them to death. They were independent, constantly busy, and if you didn’t know better you’d think they were twins. They dressed alike, did their hair the same, and even finished each other’s sentences. Lord help the mates they ever found. If you got one, you got the other by default.
    Layla wrote up a quick response to both sisters since they each sent her an email. Which oddly, contained basically the same information. She was tempted to write one response and copy it to the other. But they’d call her out on that bullshit in a blink.
    Her phone rang and startled her out of her ruminating. Looking at the number on the display she groaned.
    “Gawd, not today,” she moaned. Taking a breath and letting it out slowly she reached for the phone.
    “Layla Klein, how may I help you?”
    She knew who it was and she dreaded picking up the phone. But she was dancing a fine line with this particular caller.
    “Hey there beautiful, did you miss me?” A slick deep voice came over the line.
    Vincent Domolo was the son of a prominent Las Vegas family. A prominent Las Vegas mob family. Vincent thought he was God’s gift to women and apparently aftershave. He also was deluded enough to think that his constant smarmy advances were going to win her over. She’d gone out with him once when he said he had a business opportunity to discuss regarding her club.
    What he really wanted to do was spend two hours talking about himself and his cars while she was blinded by his gold jewelry and chest hair. There was no business, just him thinking that an evening with him would woo her into a relationship.
    He wasn’t a bad looking guy if he’d let the whole suave Italian persona go. His hair was too long, his skin too tan. Too many rings on his fingers and his fashion sense was downright horrific.
    Layla’s cat was hissing the entire time, she wanted to scratch him in the face for even thinking he was good enough for them.
    Since that dinner, he’d called every few days. At first he sent flowers, chocolates, and even a giant stuffed teddy bear. Like that wasn’t embarrassing. She’d wanted to return everything but also didn’t want to incite him. She called each time and thanked him for the gifts and explained that she was too busy with the hotel and her career to even think about dating. Which he responded that they didn’t have to date they could just ‘screw’. Charming.
    After that conversation, she was much firmer about her stance on not dating him. He laughed and told her she was cute and sassy and he liked that. Apparently rejection is what did it for him. So he kept trying.
    “Vincent, what can I do for you?” she asked professionally before she realized how loaded that question was to a man like him.
    She was proven right when the low chuckle over the phone curdled her blood.
    “Oh, I could think of something.”
    Of course he could, she thought rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
    “I’m about to head out to a meeting, Vincent,” she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.
    “How about I pick you up for an early dinner tonight? Somewhere nice, a little Dom, some antipasto,” he said rolling the words out exaggerating his non-existent Italian accent. He was born in Hoboken and his family moved to Nevada.