My Boss

My Boss BBW Romance Novel



Review Reader Copy Not For Sale

Jolie Day

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author. The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are completely fiction and are in no way meant to represent real people or places. Warning: This story contains mature themes and language. It is intended to be enjoyed by an 18+ audience only. Copyright © Jolie Day



About this Novel Avery All I wanted was to get away from my small town in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois; and I thought that traveling all the way to New York City was my way of doing that. And it was. In New York, I found all the excitement and adventure I ever could have asked for…but even with my degrees in technology and economics, I couldn’t seem to find a job and I was running out of money. Fast. That’s when I ran into Joel Harper. Literally. Tall, dark, and handsome, Joel was known for being quite the charmer—a new girl on his arm every week— and I had no interest in him. Not one bit. Not until I learned that he owned the company I had gone to interview for. Not until he gave me a job as his assistant. Then suddenly, I couldn’t think of anything but him. Every inch of his body became the subject of my thoughts… And fantasies. What was happening? Joel She was unlike any woman I’d ever met. Where most women would have thrown themselves at me, Avery James resisted me with every fiber of her being

and it just made me want her even more. It was dangerous for us to be together, I knew that better than anybody. But there was just something about her…something that drew me to her like some kind of strange, animal magnetism. But she was my employee. It was completely unprofessional of me to want her so, so bad. But I did. I wanted her and I would do anything it took to make her want me too. My Boss is a full-length standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

My Boss

Chapter One She felt alive. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to vibrate with her need as the body above hers moved into her. She couldn’t make out his face, but she didn’t really need to when he was making her feel like this. Like she was the most sublime creature in this universe. She cried out as he hit a spot deep within her, her nails scoring down his back, her teeth sinking into the thick tendons of his neck. The man above her groaned, his hips pushing more insistently against her, hands pressing up under her thighs, raising her legs higher up his body until he could hook her knees around his shoulders. The new angle made her whimper in ecstasy and pleasure, her head shaking back and forth on the pillow, the dark auburn locks of her hair falling over her face and sticking to her forehead as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. “God,” she moaned. The man above her chuckled deeply as he continued to pound in her. “Not quite,” he said, his voice deep and rich, making her shiver. “But I can see why you might get us confused.” She huffed out a laugh that quickly turned into a loud, long groan of pleasure. “Fuck!” she exclaimed as the

knot in the pit of her stomach began to tighten. She felt herself grow closer and closer to the edge. “Please,” she whimpered as she felt him slow down, taking her away from that edge. “Please. Don’t stop.” “Patience,” he growled in her ear. She growled back, deep and low in her throat, nipping at his chin. He laughed again, nuzzling her nose as he gave a particularly firm thrust. She cried out, her nails tightening on his muscular forearms. “Yes!” she cried out. “Yes! Yes!” He thrust again and again and again, shoving her closer and closer to that edge. “Oh God, yes!” And then, suddenly, he stopped, his body pulling away from hers even as she reached out for him, attempting to pull him back. She moaned and whined and practically sobbed, begging him to return to her. But he just got further and further away. “Please,” she husked, the throbbing between her legs becoming almost unbearable. “Please come back!” *****



It was still dark when Avery James awoke, sweaty and panting. Her long, auburn locks stuck to her forehead and neck like a second skin and she brushed the hairs away from her in frustration with one hand as the other tore the blankets from her lower half. It was too warm for covers, anyway, she thought as she extracted herself from the plush, queen-sized hotel bed. But she’d always needed something covering her body in order to sleep, ever since she’d been a child. But you’re not a child anymore, a chastising voice whispered in her ear, wrapping around her like her mother’s arms used to. You’re grown. Act more grown. Avery nodded and subconsciously straightened her spine, closing her eyes for a long moment and then opening them, as if waking up for the second time. She felt the calmness of the room surround her for a long moment, before a distant honk made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Avery swallowed thickly as she turned toward the window at the back of her room and saw the flicker of light peeking between the drapes. It wasn’t morning yet; she knew that much. But here, there was really no night. The city moved twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There was no darkness anywhere; at least not in Manhattan. Perhaps, she should have sprung for one of the outer-boroughs— Queens or Brooklyn or the Bronx, even. But Manhattan … Manhattan was the city that never sleeps. Avery had learned that the first night she’d gotten here, checking in at half past one in the morning, ready to sleep for days, just as a pair of colorfully dressed women walked past her in the opposite direction, wiggling their fingers at the doorman as he let them out.

Just watching them stumble out had given Avery heart palpitations. She’d never been allowed to go out this late at night back in Illinois. Her father had worried after her safety, even though nothing had ever happened in their tiny farm town. No girls ever went missing in Greenfield, as far as she knew. But he’d kept her on a short leash, using that cliché “as long as you live under my roof” line. Sometimes, she wondered if her father had escaped from some fifties sitcom. Her mother had never been like that. Not that Avery remembered much of her mother. The woman had died when she was eight and she didn’t have any older siblings around to tell her stories. Her father didn’t even like to say her name and her uncles never came to visit. She didn’t even know if she had any grandparents or great aunts or uncles on her mother’s side. If her father had family other than her, he’d never said anything. Avery wondered what he thought of her leaving. She was over twenty years old, after all, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. And he didn’t have any money with which to find her. Hell, until last week Avery never even had a cell phone. She wasn’t in need of one back in Illinois. Their town was so small that her father could call her name on one end and she’d hear him all the way on the other side. Besides, there was nobody else that she needed to call besides her father. She didn’t have much in the way of friends back in Greenfield. She’d hung out with some of the kids in high school, bonding over their desire to get away from their rural Illinois life and to just be free from the usually barren farmland. In high school, everybody was eager to start their lives anew somewhere else. After

graduation, however, half of her “friends” had ended up pregnant or married and on their way to being pregnant. The other half had either gone to college or decided to stay in town and work on their parents’ farms or help out in their local shops. Avery had been one of the few students in her class of fifty to go to college more than an hour away from home. She’d chosen Northwestern—which had offered her the best scholarship, by far—and attained two degrees in three years. The first was in business and the second was in economics. She figured one of those degrees would have to take her somewhere and prayed that place would be out of the reach of her overbearing father. Daniel James had visited her every weekend he could get away from his own grocery store, making sure that his child was eating every day and able to afford everything she needed for her classes. More often than not, he was there to convince her to leave college altogether and come home with him. “Hank Grayer has been waiting on you,” he told her once. “He said you’d make a fine wife if you’d just come home and give him a chance. I think he’s right.” Avery didn’t have any interest in Hank Grayer. “There’s also Mason McCreery; he’s a handsome young man, ain’t he? And his father gave him six acres for his graduation.” She had no interest in Mason McCreery either. Both were boys that she’d gone to high school with and both were the kind that needed their mothers to set them up with “nice” girls, because they weren’t charming or confident or smart enough to find wives on their own.

Her father eventually gave up attempting to talk her into marrying one of the “nice young men” and started luring her into blind dates instead. Which is when she made the decision to leave. It took over a year to save up enough money from her job at the market for a plane ticket and a month’s stay at the very hotel she was now standing in, but it had all been worth it. Because she was here, in the city she’d dreamed of her whole life. Pushing apart the drapes, Avery blinked down at the cars that raced by on the streets and the lights that twinkled all around. Advertisements, shop signs, and even traffic lights added to the ambiance. Despite the noise that enveloped her all hours of the day, Avery didn’t regret her decision to leave at all. She could deal with the honking, the street vendors yelling, and even the construction down the street. To her, this was far less oppressive than the stillness of Illinois. She had two more weeks of this before she’d be forced to head back home. She had paid in advance for the room and had some cash saved up for food, but everything else she had would go toward another plane ticket home if she couldn’t land a job before her time ran out. Looking out at the sparkling, car-filled wonderland in front of her, Avery prayed it wouldn’t come to that.



Chapter Two One of the few luxuries Avery allowed herself every morning before she went job-hunting or interview hopping was a grande caramel mocha from the café around the corner. In Greenfield, anything fancier than straight black coffee with some whole milk and sugar (if you had a particularly sweet tooth) was hard to come by. Most farmers that needed the caffeine boost were up well before the sun rose and ninety percent of the shops opened after daylight broke. The lone café in town rarely had more than the basic dark roast and decaf. Sometimes, they didn’t even have the latter. Coffee was not meant as a luxury item in Greenfield; it was a tool used to keep adults awake through their long days of work. In October they added cinnamon as a fall option, and peppermint in December. But that was it. The first time Avery entered a café outside of Greenfield, she’d been almost overwhelmed with the choices. It had been her first day on campus, where they had one of those chain coffee shops, ready to make you anything you so desired in two minutes or less. Avery had never needed to wait a full two minutes for coffee (it was always freshly brewed in Greenfield; just waiting to be poured into a mug or thermos), so she figured that it must have been something unique or special. After all, there were all those fancy words up on the menu. She’d heard of lattes and cappuccinos before, of course. On

television and from out-of-towners passing through to visit family and whatnot. But she’d never seen them on a menu right before her very own eyes. It was such a simple phenomenon, she knew, but having so many options lined up right in front of her was not something she’d had the luxury of getting used to up until that point in her life. It was one of the more embarrassing reasons she’d wanted to travel to and— eventually—live in New York City; the coffee options. She’d mourned the loss of her daily mocha after leaving school and had gone so far as to save up the money so that she’d be able to have as many as she wanted when she eventually left Greenfield behind. When she’d finally arrived at her hotel in Midtown, she’d been overjoyed to find the café, with its outdoor seating and friendly wait staff. In the mornings, Avery would make her way down the block with a newspaper and a sharpie, sit down at a table, and order her drink from one of the bright, smiling faces that approached her. Usually, the person that took her order was in their late teens, early twenties, or somewhere around her own age, and she could see flashcards sticking out of their apron pockets, which they’d sneak peeks at when they thought nobody was looking. Students, Avery easily surmised; perhaps kids that had, like her, decided that New York City was the place to be to further the course of their lives. Sometimes, she wished she had come to the city for university. What would it have been like to work at a café like this while she slept in a cramped studio apartment with several other small-town hicks who’d just come to further their education or live life in the “fast lane”?

Maybe, Avery thought, as she woke for real—several hours after the first time that morning—she’d go for her Masters in Engineering. Maybe she’d have the chance to sleep in a cramped space with a half a dozen other twentysomethings just like her. Not until you get yourself a job, a voice in the back of her mind whispered irritatingly in her ear. You’re already running out of money. There’s only 14 days left. Stop daydreaming! The voice sounded like a cross between Avery’s father and her sophomore history teacher from high school; a class in which Avery had always found herself gazing out the window at the football field. Not that she particularly liked football or sports of any kind, but she’d always found that watching grass grow was far more interesting than anything Mr. Porter had to say. His voice kind of droned in her ear like white noise, even when she was listening. He’d chastised her so many times for not paying attention to him that eventually the poor man had just given up and stopped trying. Still, her father tried to get her head out of the clouds. “It’s time that you settle down now, Avery,” he’d said countless times in the last couple of years. “Get yourself a husband, buy a house and start giving me grandchildren.” Avery’s father was obscenely old-fashioned. He’d been taught that men made the money and did all the labor to bring home the bacon—both literally and figuratively— and the women tended to the house. Her mother, from what Avery could remember, had always yelled at him for that.

“She can make her own decisions!” she remembered hearing her mother yell at her father once. “It’s the goddamn 21st century! She can have a career if she wants to.” “What good is that going to do her?” Father had yelled back. “How is that gonna get her a husband and get us grandkids? Don’t you want grandkids?” It didn’t matter. Avery’s mother would not have lived long enough to see them in any case. Avery herself didn’t even care much about having kids, anyway. She wanted to live her own life first. Their voices continued to echo in the back of her mind as she showered and dressed for the day. It was the middle of summer, so she chose a pair of jean shorts and a modest tank top that covered her buxom breasts and fleshy mid-section. One of the pluses of small town life was that you didn’t need a car to get around and the scattered farms in Greenfield were within walking distance to most of the shops and buses. Avery had always preferred to walk than to drive, anyway. Slipping her feet into her old pair of work boots, she made a mental note to go shopping for sandals downtown later. After tying her hair up into a messy bun as she’d seen other women her age doing, Avery tucked her keys and wallet into her pocket. Checking her new cell phone for any notifications, she walked out of her hotel room. There were none, of course; just as many contacts as she currently had logged into her phonebook. Avery sighed and shoved the phone deep into her pocket, feeling it against her thigh with every single step

she took. She’d been applying to every job she could find in the Classifieds section of the paper; both jobs that she was underqualified and dramatically overqualified for. But she’d received zero calls, despite her two degrees and near-genius I.Q. Perhaps, Avery found herself thinking, she’d waited too long to start the job search. She had, after all, taken time after college to work in a grocery store instead of pursuing a career in business or technology like she’d originally planned. Maybe potential employers were turned off by her “simple” upbringing and roots and were looking for somebody a bit more streetwise—or younger. Since arriving in the city, Avery had seen plenty of people she thought must be teenagers, at least, but dressed in expensive business suits and talking on phones that cost more than her four-week stay at a relatively nice hotel. Toddlers, she’d found herself thinking, with a better grip on their life than I have ever had. That didn’t stop her from trying, though. If anything, it kept her going. She could wear an expensive suit, yell into the receiver of an expensive phone, and make important decisions for an important company if only somebody would give her the chance to prove herself. All she needed was a chance. One. She was a hard worker —she had the muscles and grades to prove it—but without anybody to see that in her, she would just be stuck in the same rut for the rest of her life. No, she thought. Nothing more. Just a stubborn no. The café was bustling with activity when Avery walked in—as usual. The line stretched from the counter, along a glass pastry window filled with croissants, danishes, and

breakfast sandwiches, zig-zagging until it nearly reached the heavy glass doors. As Avery stepped through, her nose buried in her paper and her red pen posed to circle any and every nearby job opening she could find, she felt her shoulder knock into what felt like a brick wall. Her body turned completely around, her feet shuffling to keep up with the momentum and avoid twisting her ankle, until she was staring into the eyes of a startled college student, their noses practically brushing. “Oh,” Avery gasped, taking a step back as she bumped straight into the same wall. “Sorry about that; I just—” She chuckled awkwardly, feeling her face begin to flame, as she turned back around to the “wall” with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It took her all of two seconds to realize that it was not, in fact, a wall that Avery had walked into, but rather a large man with broad shoulders and muscles that were barely constrained by his obviously expensive and well-tailored suit. Avery swallowed thickly at the sight of him. The man, while tall and intimidating, was—without a doubt—one of the most handsome men Avery had ever laid eyes on. He had piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair that was perfectly mussed and just tickled the top edge of his plain, black-framed glasses. His jawline was sharp and clean-shaven, but Avery could see just the faintest pink scar near the center of his chin; it was shaped like an X. She wondered if there were more scars like that, scattered all over his body—like a treasure map of sorts. The very thought forced a shiver to climb up Avery’s spine and caused a bloom of heat that stretched from her collarbone to the tips of her ears. She cleared her throat

and offered him a friendly smile. “Sorry about that,” she said, pressing the paper and pen against her chest. “I didn’t see you there.” The man gave her a charming, lopsided grin and shrugged one muscular shoulder. “No worries,” he replied. “I guess I really shouldn’t be standing so close to the door, but, um …” he motioned to the line stretched out in front of them and shrugged again. “Right,” Avery chuckled. “The lines are ridiculous this early in the morning.” “Well, everybody’s got somewhere to go, I guess,” he said. “But maybe they should come up with a better system. There’s, like, one barista working today.” “Seriously?” Avery asked, turning her attention to the espresso bar, where one young woman was running around, steaming milk and pouring shots and spraying whipped cream and just doing her best as she attempted to fill every single order that came her way. Avery frowned and turned back to the man. “Will you excuse me a moment?” “Sure,” he said, watching with interest as Avery wormed her way to the counter, leaning over to gain the attention of one of the cashiers. He watched as they spoke. He watched as one of the cashiers frantically explained something to her that made his shoulders droop and the way Avery’s eyes widened in surprise at whatever it was he’d just said. Then he watched with barely restrained amusement as Avery stepped around the counter and joined the overworked barista near the machines, tying an apron around her waist and putting her hair up. The barista immediately started to yell at her, but didn’t once

pause in her movements as she made drink after drink. The man watched as Avery listened patiently and politely, before speaking. Then he watched as the barista seemed to give up and allowed Avery to start helping. It was quite the sight, he thought to himself, to see somebody just step up and start helping. He wondered if Avery would be expecting any kind of payment for this or if she was really doing it out of charity. Either way, he’d never seen anything quite like it. The cashiers were yelling at her, too, but obviously neither was concerned enough to stop taking orders and the man found himself inching towards the front of the line as the small café began to empty, one person at a time. When it was finally his turn, the cashiers practically turned ghostly white, staring up at him with wide eyes, before glancing over at the woman who’d just taken it upon herself to start making drinks in a place where they all knew she was not on the payroll. “Sir,” Cashier #1 said. “Sir, we can explain.” “Save it,” he said, holding up one meaty hand to stall whatever words were about to come tumbling from their mouths. “When she’s done here, send her over to my table. I suppose we should talk.” The cashiers both nodded, sharing a nervous glance with one another. “And I’ll take my usual. Get something for her, as well. On me.” He placed a large bill on the counter and stepped away without waiting for his change. Avery had just finished pouring a cappuccino when one of the cashiers stepped in to relieve her. “Thanks for all your help,” he said, “but we’ve got it covered from here. Go ahead and make yourself a drink, on the house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Avery began to protest, reaching into her pocket for her coffee stash. “It’s not a problem,” the cashier insisted. “Your drink has already been paid for.” “Really?” Avery asked, placing her money back into her pocket. “By whom?” The cashier nodded toward the back corner of the café, where two easy chairs sat, a coffee table between them. The area had always been empty, even when the café was full of students and businessmen; a large “RESERVED” sign stretched across the table, from the arm of one chair to the arm of the other. Was he the one who perpetually reserved that table? The man seemed to sense their eyes on him and glanced up, giving her that same lopsided grin as before. Avery smiled back, briefly, then turned to the cashier. “Who is he?” she asked, thinking he must be some very important New York politician or local celebrity to have that kind of pull. After all, who reserves a table that they rarely use? “Joel Harper,” the barista whispered in her ear. “His mother owns this café.” “Well, technically,” the cashier added. “It’s his cafe now, since Mrs. Harper retired. But he rarely comes in here anymore.” “How come?” Avery asked, glancing back at the man, who was now staring at something on his phone. His thumb swiped over the screen and she watched his chest move as he sighed.

“Too busy with his own company, probably,” the cashier said as he grabbed a cup and read the side. “And all those women.” “All which women?” Avery asked, glancing back to the workers. “The ones he shows up here with every Sunday morning,” the barista informed her. “Wanna drink?” “Sure,” Avery replied. “Caramel mocha?” “Coming right up, doll.” “Thanks. He brings women here on Sunday? Why Sunday?” “Because they’re usually out all Friday night and in bed for most of Saturday,” the cashier said as he steamed some milk for his latte. “So he brings them here for their coffee. On their way to church, no doubt.” Avery was about to ask about what kind of church somebody like Joel Harper would take his “lady friends”, but realized in time that he was being sarcastic. “How many women does he usually have with him?” “Usually just one at a time,” the cashier said, placing a top on his cup. “Vanilla latte for Kate! But I’ve seen him with two.” “Sometimes three,” the barista added, drizzling the caramel atop Avery’s drink, before placing a top on it. “What’s your name?” she asked. “Avery,” the young woman replied. “Avery James.” “Pretty name,” the barista responded as she scribbled it onto the cup. “Well, Avery James, come back anytime

you want and I’m sure you’ll be receiving plenty more drinks on the house.” “I doubt it,” Avery replied, inhaling the scent of her mocha deeply. “Why do you say that?” the cashier asked. “Just watch,” Avery said, taking her drink and tucking her newspaper and pen under her arm as she made her way to the door. “Thanks for the coffee,” she called over her shoulder, offering them a sweet smile and a small nod, before turning her gaze toward Joel Harper, who watched her with furrowed eyebrows. Schooling her features, Avery locked eyes with him as she took a long sip of her hot drink and stepped out onto the sidewalk, turning away from him and walking straight back to her hotel.



Chapter Three She was going to have to find another café. That was the first thought that crossed Avery’s mind as she made her way back to her hotel room. Despite how good the coffee was at Harper’s, there was no way she could go back there, lest she see him again. And she was in no mood to be charmed into dating some playboy billionaire. Not when she was trying to jumpstart her own career. As she stepped into the lobby of her building, she was greeted by the doorman. “Good morning, Miss James; back so soon?” “Good morning, Abe,” Avery replied. “And yes, the café was packed this morning; I couldn’t find a seat.” “Just one of those days, eh?” the man chuckled, his deep voice reverberating through her. Abe was her favorite of the three or four doormen she’d met in the last two weeks. He was always there in the morning when she went out for coffee, and he had taken the time to learn both her name and schedule. Usually, she was back sometime after noon, after she’d grabbed a hot dog or slice of pizza for lunch (always something under five dollars, to save money for dinner), and he’d just be getting off his shift. Even if he was back in his street clothes by then, Abe would still pause to open the door for her. And she would thank him. Their relationship was friendly.

Avery nodded as she paused next to him, allowing the next guest to step ahead of her. “Good morning, Mrs. Anderson,” Abe greeted. She didn’t even acknowledge him, but that friendly smile never left Abe’s face. “Actually,” Avery said as he shut the door again, “I think the owner of the café might have been flirting with me.” “What makes you say that?” Abe asked, with a small chuckle. “He bought me coffee,” Avery informed the man, “and he wanted to talk to me.” “And what did he say?” “Nothing,” Avery said, taking another long sip. “I didn’t speak to him.” “Why is that?” “Well, he’s kind of a playboy, for starters,” Avery said. “His workers told me that he shows up with a new girl on his arm every single Sunday. Sometimes, more than one.” “Well, that’s certainly not the kind of man you want to get involved with then, is it?” Abe chuckled, opening the door for a middle-aged man, who held the hands of two tiny, blonde-haired girls. They chorused “thank you” at him and he smiled in return. “Exactly,” she said, taking another sip. “But I hope you at least thanked him for buying you that coffee; least you can do when somebody gives you something is to thank them for their generosity.” “Of course I did,” Avery lied. “What kind of person

would I be if I didn’t?” “Not a very good one, I’m afraid,” Abe said. “I’m glad. I always knew you were a good girl.” Avery felt guilt churning in her stomach, but tried to ignore it in favor of offering Abe another grin as she made her way inside, thanking him when he held the door open for her. “Have a nice day, Miss James,” he called after her. “You too, Abe,” she called back, then took another sip of her mocha. For some reason, it tasted twice as bitter as it had just moments ago. ***** The jobs were scarce that morning, Avery found as she circled one after the other in the newspaper, while some old fifties sitcom played on the television in front of her. She was only half-watching and had lost interest in the storyline a long time ago, far too preoccupied with the inky paper in front of her. She’d already applied to many of these jobs and the majority had rejected her for being “overqualified”, which was business speak for “we don’t want to pay you what you actually deserve to be paid.” She crossed them off. In Greenfield, it had never been this hard to get a job. Most people worked on their parents’ farms or in their shops in town. Avery’s first job had been at the town’s only ice cream shop and had lasted from late spring to early autumn, when the weather permitted it. After that, it changed to a hot cocoa stand and Avery had given up the position to somebody more willing to brave the Illinois chill to serve the hot drink to the dozen or so regular customers willing to brave it for the hot drink. Avery just stayed home and studied all winter.

While at school, Avery had landed herself a position at the campus bookstore, where she stocked, scanned, and sold textbooks and pieces of classical literature in fourhour shifts. For three years, she’d balanced the position with her studies and almost non-existent social life. Obviously, she’d done well as she still graduated with honors and had even been promoted to manager in her last semester. It was the highest position she’d held in any job. After college, she went straight to work at the grocery store and kept her eye out for anything bigger on the horizon. Present day, she wasn’t picky about where she would have to work for the time-being (though she would prefer a place where she could rise in the ranks) and had even circled several listings in the paper that had little to nothing to do with business or technology to begin with. The first was a position at a bakery. It was entry-level, so Avery assumed she’d be tasked with measuring flour and sugar and probably working the cash register. Maybe she’d come in during the off-hours to help and learn how to bake cookies and cakes from scratch. It’d be an interesting position, she thought, but could wreak havoc on her already plump figure. The next circled position was for data entry. Avery pictured herself wearing a simple white blouse and black skirt to work every morning, just to sit at a computer and type numbers into an Excel spreadsheet. The work would be repetitive and probably a bit boring, but the benefits were great. She marked it down as a “maybe”. Next was an ad for a cab company.

The requirements were scant; all she needed was a license, certification, and a general knowledge of the city’s layout—or a working GPS. She would have to pay to rent the cab per day and cover her own gas and meals, but could keep everything otherwise. But, there were no healthcare benefits, nor was there a retirement plan. She immediately crossed “cab driver” off. That just left two listings: Manager at a pharmacy in Queens and line cook at a burger place in Flatbush. Neither was particularly attractive to Avery. Still, they stayed circled on the paper as Avery allowed herself to fall back on the bed. Job searches, no matter where she was, were always frustrating; either for lack of options or lack of callbacks for second interviews. Avery was seconds away from just giving up and buying a ticket back home to Greenfield. There was a knock on the door. “Room service!” Avery sighed. “Come in!” The door opened and a waiter pushed in a cart with a silver tray atop it. “Cheeseburger Deluxe with a Coke,” he announced, stepping into the room. “Miss James, I presume?” “That presumption is correct.” “I’m Ernie.” She could surmise that from the name tag that hung, crookedly, on his lapel. “Here’s ya food, Ma’am; would you like it on the bed or at the desk?”

“The bed, please.” While it probably would have been easier to eat her burger at the desk, Avery didn’t feel much like moving from where she was currently sitting. Ernie wheeled the cart to the foot of the bed and lifted the cylindrical cover from the platter, revealing a burger and french fries that looked like they’d been taken straight off a diner menu; they were still steaming. There was also a glass half-filled with ice and a can of Coke right next to it. It all looked very appetizing. “Thanks,” she said, extracting a five from the pocket of her jeans and handing it over for his tip. “Thank you,” he replied with a grin as he tucked the bill into his coat pocket. He was about to make his way out when suddenly his eyes seemed to catch something and he tilted his head to the side, staring at the newspaper open on Avery’s bed. “You know,” he said, gaining her attention, “you could probably find a lot more of those online.” “What?” Avery asked, pulling the tab on her soda can. “Newspapers?” “Nah,” Ernie chuckled. “Job listings. Most companies don’t even use the papers anymore; everybody’s goin’ digital.” “Really?” she asked with interest as she poured the liquid into her glass. She’d always known about online job searches, but had never had a computer or the time to search through them. Not that she really needed to. In Greenfield, she’d found out about job openings by word of mouth. At Northwestern, there was a bulletin board in the student lounge. She’d thought, upon arriving in New York, that the paper she’d chosen was widespread enough to be a reasonable choice for a job search. It

seemed not. “Do you know the names of any websites?” “Sure do!” Ernie said, pulling out an order pad. He wrote down a few words in chicken scratch and ripped the page from the pad, handing it over. “I got this job from the second one and my other two from the last, but I heard great things about the other two. I don’t got a college degree or much experience, but I’ve been working here for over six months now so I can’t really complain. I’m hoping to work my way up. My next promotion’ll be doorman and then I’ll be able to join a union!” He looked proud of that fact and far be it from Avery to destroy the kind of happiness that came from a job well done and the prospect of future successes. “Thanks,” Avery said, tossing the paper next to her on the bed. “I’ll be sure to look at them later on.” “You do that and you’ll have a job in no time, I guarantee it!” Ernie insisted, with a dimpled grin. He was about Avery’s age, if not younger, and his eyes were a shimmery kind of blue that would have fit on a movie screen if it weren’t for the…everything else about him. He wasn’t ugly, but he certainly wasn’t movie star handsome, Avery thought. She gave him a nod that was at the same time a dismissal and he easily took the hint, turning to make his way toward the door. “Enjoy your meal.” “Thanks,” Avery called after him as she sat back down on the bed and reached for her burger. One bite in, she was groaning in ecstasy. Maybe the cheeseburger wasn’t so overpriced after all. The fries were pretty great, too. Halfway through her meal, Avery glanced down at the bed where the paper with all the website names sat next to her and she reached for it, plucking it up between her

thumb and forefinger, bringing it up to her eyes. All four websites had ridiculous sounding names, but Ernie had sworn by them, so it couldn’t hurt to try just one of them. Avery typed the first one into the search bar on her phone and waited for the webpage to load as she munched on her fries and sipped her Coke. What was the worst that could possibly happen?



Chapter Four Avery’s hands brushed nervously down the front of her dress as she stood before the full-length mirror in her hotel room. She’d been shopping the previous afternoon after receiving several calls from prospective companies looking to set up an interview with her. It seemed that Ernie had been right about internet job searches. She’d spent only an hour in the computer room of the hotel the same day he’d given her the list of websites, but had come up with a list of nearly a hundred more companies in need of entry-level workers. After sending out a carefully crafted resume to several potential employers, as well as a myriad of personalized cover letters, Avery had received half a dozen calls the next day and every one of them had asked her to come down to their HR offices for an immediate interview. She scheduled them all within a course of four hours, only writing down the times and addresses to figure out later. In the end, it would cost a lot of money on the subway and in taxis, but at least she had a real shot of landing something in the city. Most of the positions were entrylevel (at least three were for Assistant positions) but they all offered competitive salaries at a first-glance, so she supposed it might be nice. Even if she had to find roommates at some point. She wondered what kind of people she might end up living with if things went well. Avery had used nearly half of her caramel mocha

money in a cheap boutique just a few blocks away that had a pretty wide variety of clothing. She’d only had to look for a couple of minutes before she found a suitable —and affordable—black dress in the Woman’s section and a pair of matching ballet flats that were marked halfoff. She had been ready to just buy those when she saw a rack of sweaters and cardigans to the side, one particular red one catching her eye on the way to the dressing room. On a whim, Avery grabbed it and paired it with the rest of her outfit, smiling at her reflection as she spun around on the spot. She looked good. Better than that, she looked professional. She’d never looked professional before. At each of her jobs, the only real requirement was that her hair was up in a ponytail and she didn’t show up naked. That was it. No loose hairs or nudity. But if she was able to land any of these entry-level positions, she knew she’d be held to a much higher standard and that fact both frightened and exhilarated her. She was finally about to become a real-life, working, professional as hell adult. She made a note to learn how to do her taxes. Or maybe splurge and get herself an accountant. The employee who’d helped to ring her up (whose name was either Vicki or Nicki, Avery couldn’t remember which) had cooed over her purchases and congratulated her on making such smart purchases. Apparently, it was the last day of their annual summer sale and everything in the store would double in price in just a few hours. Even Avery had to pat herself on the back for her impeccable timing (though part of her had to wonder if the saleswoman was actually being serious about the sale thing or if it was just some kind of enticement to get

Avery to buy more stuff). As she’d made her way back to the hotel, Avery felt lighter, somehow; like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She knew that she shouldn’t get her hopes up (“Never count your chickens before they hatch,” Daddy had always said. Avery hadn’t understood as a child, since they didn’t even raise chickens) but it was hard not to. After all, in two weeks of living in the center of Manhattan, she hadn’t even had the hint of a job offer, but now she had six! Six interviews scattered around this city that she’d only ever dreamed of when she was living in the farmlands of Greenfield, Illinois. Six interviews that could lead her on six different paths to success beyond her wildest dreams. Six interviews that could…go entirely wrong. *****



Avery was only a few doors down from her hotel when she had her first anxiety attack—of the day. She’d had them before and while they made her steps falter a little bit, she was able to breathe through the initial panic and keep walking, taking it one step at a time as she focused her breathing. In for four seconds; hold for seven; out for ten. Over and over again, until the panic subsided and she was able to focus on something other than the icy fingers of fear that gripped her heart in her chest. “Good morning, Miss James!” Abe called to her. “Been shopping?” Avery offered him a friendly (albeit shaky) smile and held up her bags. “Yep,” she said. “I have some job interviews lined up tomorrow so I thought I’d get something a little more professional. I can’t exactly show up in a pair of dirty farming boots and jeans, can I?” “No you cannot,” Abe chuckled. “I say this as somebody who has done exactly that. It did not go well and look at me now.” “Aw, Abe,” Avery cooed. “You’ve got a pretty good gig right here, don’t you? I mean, you’re one of the most pleasant doormen I’ve ever met.” “And just how many doormen have you met, Miss James?” Avery stayed silent and he chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Thanks, though; you’re a sweet one. That’s refreshing when you live in a city full of people too busy to so much as smile, let alone make pleasant conversation the way you do.” “You don’t get nearly enough credit for your own kindness and intelligence, Abe,” she said, smiling

affectionately at the big man. “Tell me about it,” Abe sighed, but he was smiling. “Have a good afternoon, Miss James. Good luck on your interviews. I hope you get yourself a good job and stick around New York for a long while.” “You and me, both, Abe,” Avery said, before saying her farewells and heading up to her room. Avery spun around in front of the mirror and sighed, looking at herself from one side, then the other, before turning to look at herself over the shoulder. The dress that had seemed perfect just yesterday now felt…off, somehow. Or maybe that was just Avery. The excitement had turned the butterflies in her stomach back into caterpillars that seemed to be crawling up her throat and making it harder and harder to breathe. She found herself sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing her head between her knees, forcing the air in and out of her lungs. She gave herself until the count of 20 to stand back up. One, two, three… What are you doing? the voice inside her head hissed. Get up! Be an adult! This is what adults do! They get up and they get jobs! They go to important interviews! Nine, ten, eleven… Maybe you’ll be able to get a flight out in the morning. This time it was a different voice, one that sounded remarkably like her father. Or maybe even tonight. You’ll be back home before sundown if you hurry! Avery reached blindly for her phone.

Fourteen…fifteen…sixteen… No! Stop that! You are stronger than this. If you go back home, you’ll just regret the chances you never took! You’ve worked your whole life for this; don’t give up on it now. Avery dropped the phone. Eighteen…nineteen… Twenty. Standing straight up, Avery marched back to the mirror and looked her reflection straight in the eye. “You can do this,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse and her throat very dry. “This is what you studied for. This is what you’ve worked for, all your life. You deserve this.” She nodded at herself as she brushed down the dress and turned once more. The bottom of the dress flared a bit, but the hemline was decent and showed off Avery’s long legs quite nicely, rather than bring attention to her waistline. She looked good, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her stomach. Nerves. Avery padded across the room and dug around in the pockets of her suitcase for a few moments, before coming out with a stretchy, red ponytail holder. She combed her fingers through her hair and gathered the auburn locks, allowing half of her hair to stay down as she gathered the rest and tied it high up on the back of her head, leaving the bun a little messy, but still fashionable as she dropped her hands. Avery smiled at her reflection and turned her head, using her peripheral vision to see it from the side. She smirked. It looked nice; professional.

It looked like Avery James, career woman. And, somehow, that made all the difference. *****



“Thank you,” Avery said, as she left the fourth HR Manager’s office in the last two hours. The gray-haired man behind the desk barely acknowledged her; his attention was already drawn back to the pile of resumes that sat upon his desk. Avery let out a sigh as she closed the door behind him and made her way down the hall to the elevator. She offered the secretary a half-hearted smile and got a sympathetic one in return. Yeah, she definitely didn’t get that job. Avery couldn’t really say she was surprised. The grayhaired man had been expecting a younger man— perhaps some earlier version of himself—and had even expressed confusion when she introduced herself as Avery James. “Oh,” he’d say, in lieu of the usual ‘hello’, “I thought your name was James Avery. My mistake.” He’d stared at her for a long moment, as if he expected her to just stand and leave, though he said nothing that seemed to dismiss her. After some time had passed, he simply sighed and rattled off some basic questions: What was her level of experience? Where did she attend school? And so on. Avery answered them the best she could, trying to make herself sound more impressive than she could already tell he found her, but the man hardly seemed to be listening. She realized, after less than ten minutes, that the only reason she’d even landed this interview was because he’d assumed that she was a man. It didn’t matter what her qualifications were anymore. He wanted a gentleman to do the job and that was not her. So she stopped trying. Her answers became more

generic and soon the interview ended and she thanked him for his time and consideration, before making a hasty exit. He just grunted in return and she could almost swear she saw him toss her resume right in the trash as she turned her back on him. She didn’t think even he could be that heartless, though. Could he? It didn’t matter, Avery decided as she boarded the elevator. She wouldn’t be working here, anyway. Even if he offered her a job, she wasn’t about to work somewhere she was both unwanted and unappreciated. No, thank you. She’d be alright elsewhere. Her first three interviews had gone on well enough and she hoped to hear back by the end of the day, as promised. If not, she still had the two other interviews to get to; both were uptown and in walking distance of each other, which was purely a stroke of luck. Avery prayed that it meant something good was coming her way. Harper Images was next. It was a tech company that focused on the next generation of “smart” TV’s. It was relatively new—only about five years old—but Avery had heard good things about it while in school. The woman she’d spoken to—Kara Nichols—had seemed sweet and impressed with her resume. They’d had a nice chat before setting a time for their interview and Avery was left feeling hopeful. At least until she walked into the waiting room of Harper Images to see a dozen other twentysomethings in sweaters and professional-looking dresses. Each of the other applicants only spared her short glances when she walked in and took her seat.

Avery, instead, turned her attention down to the folder that carried the two remaining copies of her resume. She opened it up and allowed her eyes to scan over the words on the page for probably the millionth time. It was a good resume; after all, it had impressed one of the owners of a major tech corporation so that had to count for something. All of her previous experience was beefed up with SAT-esque words (some containing more than three syllables) and her education at Northwestern was sure to gain brownie points with whomever would be interviewing her today. “I think you’ll like him,” she’d said to Avery. “He’s very sweet and incredibly charming; he’ll make you feel right at home, I’m sure.” Avery hoped that she was right about that. She’d heard some things about the siblings that ran the company in her research online. Mostly, it was positive, but the youngest son—who’d been able to keep his face out of the papers, by some miracle—was rumored to be nicknamed “The Wolf”. She didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded dangerous. When she heard a door click open and voices floating out and around the waiting room, Avery looked up towards the now-open door and felt her jaw hit the floor. A young, tiny, blonde, thin, attractive woman stood, with her back to the rest of the room, a lock of princess-fine hair twirling around her finger as she giggled at whatever her companion was saying as he leaned against the doorjamb, his impressive figure filling the majority of the doorframe. But even with the young woman obstructing part of her view of the man, Avery instantly recognized

him as the charming playboy that had bought her a caramel mocha just two days prior. She nearly stood up, right then and there. Nearly walked straight to the door, down the hall, and all the way to her next interview, where she would be no less than an hour early. And she would have gladly arrived that embarrassingly early to her next interview if it meant avoiding… “Mr. Harper,” the secretary—red-haired, curvy, with cateye glasses and a striped blouse—said, popping gum like she was some kind of caricature or animated movie character. “You have more people waiting for you, sir. And you have an appointment at one.” It was a gentle reminder, but Avery didn’t miss the look she was throwing the blonde. Joel Harper sighed and offered the young woman a charming smile, before straightening up. “She’s right,” he said. “I really should get back to work. You should expect to hear from us before the week is up. Thank you, Tiffany; it’s been a pleasure.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips while Tiffany giggled and Avery gagged. “Until next time.” As she walked away, Avery watched the flush spread across the girl’s cheeks, reaching down into the neckline of her blouse. She was truly and utterly charmed. “Who’s next?” Joel asked his secretary. The redhead pulled out a clipboard and ran one wellmanicured nail down the page. “Avery James,” she said, then looked up, her eyes scanning the room. “Avery James?” she repeated. “Is there an Avery James here?”

For a long moment, Avery considered just staying silent and still. If they thought she was late or a no-show, maybe they’d just skip right over her and she could slip out while Joel was in another interview. It was risky— especially if he happened to glance over and recognize her—but doable. What are you doing? It was that sensible, annoying as hell voice in her head again. This is your shot! This is what you’ve been waiting for! You’re about to throw it all away because of a guy you don’t like? How childish and immature are you?!? Very, Avery thought, grumpily. But she stood and raised her hand. “Right here,” she said, before the secretary could say her name again. “You got hearing problems or something?” the redhead asked. “No Ma’am,” Avery sighed. “Sorry.” “No skin off my bones,” she said. “Just follow Mr. Harper inside to conduct your interview. Joel,” she turned back to him, “play nice.” “Always, Edith.” But he wasn’t looking at his secretary any longer; his eyes were trained on Avery. And they looked positively ravenous.



Chapter Five The room was silent, the air between their bodies charged with something that Avery couldn’t quite put her finger on. It made her hair stand on end and she wasn’t certain if she was meant to enjoy it. She tried her best not to, keeping her back straight as a rod in the seat Joel Harper had pulled out for her. Like a gentleman, she had thought, sarcastically, as she sat primly in the seat. At least she had thanked him, forcing her voice to sound sweet and genuine. “My pleasure,” Joel had practically purred in response. Or had she been imagining it? There was an equal chance of both, in her mind. But she didn’t have such a pleasant opinion of him coming into this interview in the first place, so she wasn’t really the best judge, was she? Now, his piercing blue eyes seemed to bore into her. They were calm, but had some kind of mischievous spark to them at the very same time. There was something daring in those blue depths and Avery found herself almost hypnotized by them, a small lump forming in her throat that made it difficult to breathe as her heart seemed to stumble. She shook her head and opened her mouth. “Did you know my name before you—” “Did you know this was my company when you—” They both started and stopped talking at the exact

same time. Joel nodded at her and motioned with his hand for Avery to precede him. She paused for a second longer, before accepting the invite and clearing her throat. “Did you know my name?” she asked. “When I applied for this job, did you recognize the name?” “I’m not the one that typically looks at applications,” Joel replied. “My sister runs HR. I fill in where necessary.” “So you had no idea who I was when she told you to interview me?” Avery asked. “Kara gave me over a dozen names,” Joel replied. “Yours is…interesting, but why would it have stood out among the rest? I’ve had applicants named after colors in here. There was even a girl named Burberry here about an hour ago. Are your parents famous or something?” Avery had to force herself not to laugh out loud at that. Her mother had been a housewife; her father owned a shop in Greenfield, Illinois, and refused to franchise. She was from a town called Greenfield, for goodness sake. She had been raised no more than one mile from a cow at all times. She swallowed down the amusement and shook her head. “No,” she said. “My parents aren’t famous. I’m from Illinois.” “A lot of famous people come from Illinois,” Joel pointed out. “Not from Greenfield.” “Point taken.” He grinned as he looked down at the paper she’d given him, which contained her resume. “So

you went to Northwestern, huh? That’s impressive.” “Thank you,” Avery replied, feeling her chest puff out a bit with pride. She was smart and hard-working; it would benefit her to be a little bit confident, as well. “I also finished early, with multiple degrees.” “I see that,” Joel said, giving her a look of boyish amusement. She had the sudden urge to slap that grin right off his face. Slap or… No. Not that. Avery cleared her throat. “I had some AP credits going in,” Avery informed him, “and I wanted to get through my education as quickly as possible, you know?” “I do know,” Joel said. “I finished early, too.” “College?” “And high school,” he informed her, with a proud, dimpled grin. “All of us did.” “All of you?” Avery asked, furrowing her brow. “Your siblings, too?” He nodded. “It’s genetic, I guess. Intelligence.” He was a little cocky about it, but Avery found she had no rebuttal. His family was obviously incredibly intelligent, there was no denying that. Still, that smirk was driving her insane. “What was your degree in?” Avery asked, suddenly very interested in hearing more. “Engineering,” Joel said, motioning to the degree framed and hung up on the wall behind him. He smiled proudly. “But,” he continued, clearing his throat, “this isn’t

about me. It’s about you. Now. Tell me a little about yourself, Miss James.” Avery tried not to let her disappointment show. For the first time all day, she had no interest in talking about any of her achievements; she wanted to learn more about Joel’s experience with engineering and how she might go about getting herself an engineering degree. Was it really as difficult as everybody made it out to be? How long did it take? Was he good at it? Were any of his designs or inventions patented, or used by HI? Was that what made the company such a success? She felt like a student on her first day of class, desperate to absorb any and all information she could get her hands on. But she held back and forced herself to look back on her own education. How she’d been an Honors student. How she’d gotten straight A’s in most of her subjects all throughout high school. How she’d had a 3.9 GPA at Northwestern and worked hard at everything she’d ever done; education-wise and job-wise. She listed any achievements and scholarships she’d ever been awarded, spoke about how she’d been raised with a “work hard, live well” kind of attitude, and gave examples of how she might deal with issues that could arise during work. The entire time she spoke, Joel Harper watched her with no small amount of curiosity in his eyes. The corners of his lips were turned up ever so slightly, as if he was enjoying this. Avery took pause at that. Was he laughing at her? Did he think she was funny? Some small-town farm girl making a fool of herself in his office, thinking that he was going to give her a job? It was paranoid thinking, Avery knew, but there had to be some reason he was called

“The Wolf” and she had no idea what other reason there could be for that. He must have seen the change in her demeanor (was it the way her shoulders tensed or the fact that the lines of her face hardened?), because Joel tilted his head in confusion, creases appearing at the corners of his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, interrupting her midsentence. Avery feigned confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Nothing’s wrong. Except it’s very rude for you to interrupt me like that.” “I’m sorry,” Joel said. “I just…I sensed something change.” “Sensed?” she asked, furrowing her brows. “I just…I saw something in your face. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m sorry. Continue.” Avery opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. “I forgot what I was even talking about,” she said. Joel looked down at her resume, which Avery had just realized was covered in some kind of scribble. He’s taking notes? “I think you were telling me why you didn’t apply for any internships while in school,” he informed her. “Right,” Avery said, feeling herself relax a little bit in her seat. “Um, I was working at the bookstore on campus, as well as overloading on all my courses. I took over twenty credits per semester, which was roughly five or six classes and I had to do two senior theses, so I just didn’t have the time. Then, when I got out of school, it didn’t

really make sense to take on a job that didn’t even pay, so I just…didn’t. I worked at a local grocery store and saved up money, thinking that if I saved enough, I might be able to justify returning to Chicago for grad school.” “So why didn’t you do that?” Joel asked, looking genuinely interested in her story and choices. Avery shrugged. “Because I wanted to come to New York.” It was a simple answer, but it felt the most honest; the most truthful and accurate. “But why New York?” Joel asked. “Why not go to, say, Los Angeles? Orlando? Chicago? I mean, it’s right there and I’m sure that there are plenty of companies that would have been more than happy to take you on.” “Chicago was too close to home,” Avery admitted. “And my father…he’s a little controlling. I knew that if I stayed, he would just always be there, ready to catch me when I failed and tell me ‘I told you so’. I couldn’t deal with that. Los Angeles…no. Too…picturesque. I wouldn’t want such a pretty city ruined for me if I ended up in the bad part of town. Orlando is the same.” “But New York?” “The bad parts of town have never really been kept a secret,” Avery chuckled. “I knew what I was getting into when I came here. I knew that ending up in an unsavory neighborhood somewhere in Queens or Brooklyn was almost inevitable, so I was always prepared for that. It wouldn’t have ruined anything for me—for the most part. And there’s just so much opportunity here, you know? You always hear about New York in songs and television and movies and I just…I wanted to be a part of it. And

now, for this brief moment in time, I am. And I don’t want it to end.” “Maybe it doesn’t have to.” Avery snorted and shook her head. “All good things end,” she replied. “Eventually.” Joel nodded, slowly. “Like this interview, I’m afraid,” he said, standing up. Avery stood with him, a sinking feeling that stretched from her heart to her stomach. “Thank you so much for coming in, Miss James. You should hear from us soon.” He gave her a smile—this one straight and almost…shy—as he offered her his hand to shake. “Thank you, Mr. Harper,” she replied, “for this opportunity.” She was certain that she was not going to get this job; she’d killed the confidence vibe with her melancholy and pessimism. “And thank you,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “for the coffee. I’m sorry I never said it before. I must have forgotten. Until just now.” Joel gave her a knowing smile. “You’re welcome,” he said. Their hands were still connected and they seemed to notice it at the exact same time. Their fingers slipped away simultaneously and Avery felt her cheeks heat up as Joel cleared his throat and walked around the desk to accompany her to the door. In just a few long strides, he made it there before her and opened it up, giving her a playful bow that made Avery roll her eyes and sigh as she stepped out. She couldn’t help the tiny grin that she attempted to bite back on her way to the door. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she found herself looking back to cast Joel

Harper one last, thankful smile. The smile quickly fell from her face as she watched him shake the hand of yet another young woman—this one with curly black hair that fell around her shoulders and a pair of round, copper-framed glasses perched on her button-nose. The girl was blushing, but her lips were upturned in pleasure. Avery frowned and felt her fist clench around the folder she was holding. Shaking her head, she turned back to the door, tugged it open with too much force, and hastily made her way down the hall, not caring that she’d forgotten to pull it closed after her. *****



“Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mrs. Abrams,” Avery said as she came back out of the kind businesswoman’s office. Agatha Abrams was old enough to be her grandmother, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from how she held herself. She was tall and broadshouldered and her hair was as straight as a pin. Her deep sea-green eyes seemed to hold all the wisdom in the world and she looked at Avery with all the affection a grandmother might give her grandchild. There was no doubt in Avery’s mind that she would enjoy working for the older woman. Still, she had doubts. While the company had a good reputation (nearly a hundred years strong, founded before the Great Depression—and survived), it was centered around small businesses—businesses that often had to be closed because they just weren’t making enough money. Avery knew that that was a big part of the career she’d chosen (financials), but she didn’t know if she could hold the futures of so many people and their families in her hands like that. Part of her job would be lay-offs and notifying the managers of the small businesses they oversaw that they were in danger of going out of business if they didn’t make changes. In this case, changes typically meant more lay-offs. “It takes a strong stomach,” Mrs. Abrams had told Avery. “And a hard heart. Do you think you have what it takes?” Avery had schooled her features and nodded, keeping her voice calm as she said, “Yes, I do have what it takes. Definitely.” But she knew, deep down, she really didn’t.

She suspected that Mrs. Abrams knew it, too, because the older woman hadn’t even promised a callback. She’d just said thank you and have a nice day, in the friendliest way possible. It left Avery with a small amount of undeserved hope. As she made her way up the street headed towards her hotel, Avery prayed that she’d get a callback from one of the three other positions she knew she had a chance at. Or even a phone call from another company that actually wanted to offer her a job. That would be nice. She wouldn’t have to walk long distances in these ballet flats. Avery was now starting to see why they’d been so cheap. Her feet were going to ache later. She considered hailing a cab back to the hotel, but decided against it for two reasons: First, it would cost too much of the money she’d worked so hard to save up and wasn’t certain if she’d be adding to anytime soon; and second, she absolutely sucked at hailing cabs. Abe usually did it for her. So she walked, instead. There was no point in paying nearly three dollars for the subway back, no matter how much her feet hurt. That being said, there was no harm in stopping for lunch. After all, she had nowhere to be now, since all of her interviews were over. Avery spotted a hot dog stand two blocks up and hobbled towards it as fast as her tired feet would allow. When she got there, she almost cried in relief when she saw there was no line and ordered herself a hot dog with relish and mustard, practically salivating as the vendor prepared it for her. When he tried to charge her two

dollars for it, she haggled and threatened to head to the one on the next corner, where they openly advertised one dollar dogs, and he conceded. New York City Rule #1: Never pay more than a dollar for a hot dog at any hot dog stand. She also bought herself a Pepsi for $1.50 and dropped her change into his tip jar, for which he gave her a sarcastic “thanks, Ms. Rockefeller”. Avery didn’t care, though; she had lunch and there was a park less than fifty feet away, where she was able to find an empty bench on which to eat her lunch. She sighed in relief as she stretched out her legs in front of her, debating kicking off her shoes, but deciding against it, lest somebody take that as an invitation to steal her shoes (she’d seen it happen her first week here) and instead popped her heels out, allowing the flats to dangle on her toes. Avery was halfway through stuffing the delicious, juicy hot dog into her mouth when she felt the vibration of her cellphone in her purse. Carefully, she set the dog down on her folder and began to dig through the bag, finding her cell at the very bottom and checking the caller ID. Since she didn’t have any numbers stored in her phone except her father’s (what better way to avoid him?), only a number appeared on the screen. It was relatively familiar to her, but Avery reasoned that it could belong to any of the companies she’d visited that morning. And they could be calling for any reason. Forcing herself not to hope too hard, Avery pressed ‘Answer’ and held the phone up to her ear, swallowing thickly before speaking into the receiver. “Hello?”

“Is this Avery James?” a familiar voice said in her ear and Avery felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as her mouth went dry. “Y-yes,” she replied. “This is Edith from Harper Images?” It was phrased as a question, but Avery knew it wasn’t one, so she didn’t answer. “I’m calling on behalf of Joel Harper; you had an interview with him about an hour ago.” “Yes, I remember,” Avery replied, not unkindly. “Well, Mr. Harper is in a meeting right now, but he wanted me to call you and let you know that we’re prepared to offer you the position.” “The…the position?” Avery stammered. “The one you applied for,” Edith reminded her, gently. “The Assistant position here at Harper Images. Mr. Harper was very impressed with your resume and credentials and would like to invite you back for a follow-up meeting to go over your employee contract and negotiate salary and benefits. That is,” she added, “if you would still like the job.” She paused. “Are you still interested, Miss James?” Before Avery could think twice about it, her mouth was already answering for her, as if it had a mind of it’s own. “Yes. Yes, I am.”



Chapter Six Avery stood before an expansive plate-glass window, watching the cars, taxis and limousines move on the street below, weaving between one another in a sort of hypnotizing dance. Pedestrians sauntered down the street, some with their arms weighed down by shopping bags and others walking hand-in-hand with their loved ones, basking in the sunlight. A few pushed strollers and Avery found that she couldn’t distinguish the nannies from the mothers and fathers. There was some construction further up the road, but nobody seemed to pay it any mind. Avery couldn’t even hear the jackhammers or any other power tools being used, which was amazing to her. It was like she was in a fishbowl, looking out at the world around her, just observing as they went about their daily lives and routines. Avery wondered if that would be her soon. “Miss James?” She jumped at the sudden voice (was it so sudden? Or had she just been ignoring it?) and turned back to Edith, who was working a piece of Red Hot chewing gum between her teeth, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in expectation. “Do you need me to repeat that?” she asked, knowingly. And, oh, she looked annoyed. Avery felt her cheeks heat up as she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Sorry, I was just…sorry.”

Edith took a deep breath and offered her a half-hearted smile. “Quite the view, huh?” She stepped up next to Avery and looked out at the streets and the surrounding office and apartment buildings. “You wouldn’t be the first person to get distracted by pretty things, hun. Just make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. Not everybody has this kind of opportunity.” Edith Brownstein wasn’t much older than Avery, but she stood and spoke and carried herself like somebody who’d been alive for centuries and had lived life to the fullest, only to retire into a menial existence as the secretary for some company that underappreciated her to the fullest extent. Avery wondered how she’d gotten that way. Edith had shown up at Avery’s hotel just as she was packing and had helped her squeeze all of her belongings into the banged up old suitcase, before ushering her down to the library, where the younger woman hesitated, looking apprehensively at the front desk. Edith had given her an expectant look, asking a question with only her eyes. “I…um…they still kinda don’t know I’m checking out,” Avery confided. “I paid for a full month and I’m not sure I can even get my money back at this point and I—” “Say no more,” Edith interrupted, putting a hand up to silence her. Avery watched in awe as Edith charmed the man behind the desk into forgiving the early checkout and watched as he doled out a few gift cards, before wishing her a splendid day. Edith handed them to Avery before she could say anything. “Sorry I couldn’t get you cash,” she said. The gift cards were for the hotel and surrounding restaurants and shops.

“It’s okay,” Avery replied, sending the manager an apologetic look as she followed Edith outside to the waiting town car. Now, they stood in the center of a luxury studio apartment two blocks from Fifth Avenue, looking out at the land of the wealthy and materialistic. Avery’s eyes were filled with stars and the rest of her body fluttered like butterflies, but Edith’s gaze was almost bored. “How many times have you been here?” Avery asked as she followed Edith into the kitchen. “I’ve been working for HI since the beginning,” Edith explained, opening her fridge, which was fully stocked. “This should last you until your first paycheck. I used to work for Mrs. Harper, until she retired.” “How long ago was that?” Avery asked, watching as Edith moved from the fridge to the stove, where she began checking the burners, showing Avery how to work them. “One year ago,” Edith said. “We used to have long conversations about Hemingway and Nabokov. She was a good boss.” She smiled, softly, as a memory flashed behind her eyes. Then she shook her head. “But that was before.” “Before what?” Avery inquired, as she followed Edith around the small area. She opened drawers and cupboards, showing Avery where all the dishes, cutlery and nonperishables were. “She got sick.” Edith explained no more, but Avery couldn’t help herself.

“What does she have?” she blurted, before she could stop herself. Edith, for the first time in several moments, turned to look her in the eye. Her gaze studied Avery’s for a long time, unblinking, before she nodded. “She’s slowly losing her mind,” she said, finally, then walked away, heading towards the living room, which spanned half of the apartment. “Like Dementia?” Avery asked. “Alzheimer’s?” “Not exactly,” Edith replied, plucking the remote from the coffee table and aiming it at the forty-inch television. “You have a Premium cable package,” she informed the younger woman. “Over a thousand channels—including a variety of adult channels.” Avery flushed bright red at that and averted her gaze. “Don’t be shy,” Edith huffed. “We all have needs. Just be aware of the windows; anything you watch can be seen from the surrounding buildings and some parts of the street below, so always close the curtains if you need to…release yourself. Understood?” Avery nodded, incapable of speech at the moment. Edith took pity on her and moved on, switching off the TV and pointing the remote at a rather large sound system in the corner. Music immediately filled the room and she let it play for a long moment, before switching it off. “This is a universal remote,” she said. “So far it’s only hooked up to the TV and stereo, but if you buy any other compatible technologies, then you just give me a call and I’ll send a programmer over from HI, alright?” Avery nodded. “Sometimes, you’ll receive a new piece of technology that we’d like you to test out. You should close your blinds on those days, as well. A few of our competitors have bought the apartments across the way

and they’re always spying on us. Leeches.” She sniffed with disgust and shook her head, placing the remote back down, before making her way across the apartment, to a door just off the kitchen. She pushed it open to reveal a short hallway, with another door at the end. One on side of the hallway was a washer and dryer, one atop the other. “For laundry,” Edith explained. “There’s some detergent and softener under the sink in the bathroom,” she said, guiding Avery forward, “which is right here.” She turned the knob on the other door and pushed it open, causing the lights to turn on, and Avery attempted to keep her jaw off the floor. Saying that the bathroom was larger than she had expected would have been a gross understatement. The bathroom was bigger than any she’d ever seen in any home. The tub in the corner was probably about the size of her bed back in Greenfield and it looked more like a hot tub. When she turned her attention to the other corner, she saw a standing shower with glass doors and what looked like a series of holes on the ceiling above it. Avery walked closer to get a better look. “It’s a waterfall showerhead,” Edith informed her. “The water pressure is amazing here, so it’ll feel like getting a massage every time you rinse out your hair.” “You have one of these?” Avery asked. “I lived here for a little while,” Edith admitted. “When my place was being renovated, Mrs. Harper gave me a place to stay. That shower convinced me to get a waterfall; it’s honestly life-changing. You might never want to leave.”

“I’ve only been here about twenty minutes and I already don’t want to leave,” Avery laughed, taking in the rest of the bathroom. There was a rack with a few multi-colored towels of varying sizes and lengths, a sink with hand towels and a bar of soap that was shaped like a sea shell, and a plain porcelain toilet with a slightly pink hue, which matched the pink floor and wall tiles. Everything was so clean and just…beautiful. And, according to Edith, this was the smallest apartment in the entire building. The entire building that was already occupied by the Harper children and their separate families. Kara Nichols had a husband and children that lived two floors up. “Does Mrs. Harper live here?” she found herself asking before she could even help it. Edith took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” she said. “She has round-the-clock nurses. They’re on the top floor, in the penthouse suite. That’s where all the children grew up, when their father was alive.” “He’s no longer around?” Avery asked, even as a voice in her head screamed at her to shut the hell up! Edith shook her head. “He passed when Joel was just a boy. He barely remembers him, but Mrs. Nichols does. She named her son after him; Gabriel Harper Nichols.” She smiled, softly. “He looks just like the pictures I’ve seen of Mr. Harper.” Then she shook her head and started toward the door. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you to the sleeping area and then we’ll go over your new work schedule and responsibilities.” Avery didn’t falter as she followed the older woman out and down the short hallway to the main room.

The bedroom was separated from the rest of the apartment by a curtain that started at the edge of the kitchen and ended at the wall, next to the pane-glass windows. The bed was enormous and stood on a platform above the rest of the furniture. She had an unobstructed view of the Manhattan skyline peeking out between two skyscrapers. The sight took Avery’s breath away. “Nice, huh?” she said. “One of the very best views in Manhattan. Better than a television, anyway. You can watch the sunset every night.” Avery nodded, flopping down onto the sinfully soft bed and its silky sheets. She moaned involuntarily. “One-thousand thread count Egyptian cotton,” Edith informed her. “Twelve inch mattress. If you need a thicker one, just ask.” “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Avery chuckled. As nice and soft and luxurious as her hotel bed had been, the one in the studio made it seem like a pile of rocks in comparison. “I feel like I’m lying on a cloud,” she groaned, taking a deep breath. “This is incredible.” “Mrs. Nichols will be so glad that you approve,” Edith chuckled. “Now, down to business…” Avery sat up as Edith reached into the messenger bag that had been slung around her shoulders the entire time they walked around the apartment and pulled out a plain, black folder, handing it over. “Inside,” Edith said, “you’ll find several sheets of paper. On top, you’ll see a detailed work schedule for the week, complete with lunch breaks and, on the rare occasion,

dinner breaks. You are to remain at the office until Mr. Harper leaves, as he is the one you’ll be assisting until further notice.” “Which Mr. Harper?” Avery asked, already dreading the answer she knew was coming. “Joel, of course,” Edith replied. “The others are away on business and won’t be back for several months.” Avery nodded, feeling a pit of dread form in her stomach. She and Joel Harper had spoken a couple of times since her interview—both in person and on the phone—but she still had not been able to get over watching him flirt with the interviewee that had gone after her. “Sometimes, you’ll be working under Mrs. Nichols, but she does most of the HR and financial stuff. I don’t think you’re too interested in that, are you? Mr. Harper tells me that your interest is in the technology itself, is that right?” Avery nodded. “I thought so. Their sister, Melanie, will also ask to have you on her service, but that’s more for image than anything else. She handles Public Relations and Advertising. When she gives press conferences, she likes to have somebody by her side; makes her look more professional.” Avery nodded again in understanding. “Your days shouldn’t go later than seven, usually, but sometimes you’ll be invited to a gala or other charity event. You don’t have to worry about buying something to wear, though; we have people that would be more than willing to dress you, just so long as you don’t cause any scenes or ruin their clothing.” Edith lifted an eyebrow at her and Avery shook her head. “No,” she said. “Of course not. I would never…” A smile broke out over Edith’s face and she chuckled. “I

know, hun,” she said. “I’m just teasing. Don’t worry about it. Just know that you’ll be covered if it comes to it, alright? The Harpers have a lot of friends, so you’ll be expected to attend a lot of these things. Especially around the holidays. Remember that.” Again, Avery nodded. “Understood,” she said. “Well, I can tell that you’ve got everything worked out,” Edith said. “There’s not much else I gotta tell you, other than work starts at nine AM, sharp, on Monday morning and you’re expected to get the drink orders for everybody on your list.” Avery flipped through the papers and saw a list of coffee orders, which might have been written in a different language if she didn’t know any better. “We have a tab set up at the café, so just tell them you’re the new assistant from HI and give them the list; they’ll take care of the rest. Got it?” “Yes,” Avery said, placing the sheet back and closing the folder. “Anything else?” “One more thing,” Edith confirmed, looking her square in the eye. “Do not sleep with Joel Harper.”



Chapter Seven The sun was shining on Avery’s first day of work as she walked down the street in her new, comfortable—and professional—shoes. She’d bought them at some Fifth Avenue boutique not far from her apartment building, on Edith’s suggestion. They’d cost Avery half of her plane ticket money—which she no longer needed, luckily—and she’d used the remaining money to buy herself another dress. This one had a black and white pattern that was flattering to Avery’s figure—showing off her most favorable curves and hiding the ones she disliked—but still maintaining a professional look. She felt light as she made her way towards the café, which was the perfect halfway point between her apartment and the Harper Images offices. It was only a quarter to eight, so she still had quite a lot of time before she had to be at the office, but she wanted to make sure that she got all the drinks and didn’t get stuck waiting on too long of a line. Remembering how it had been the last time she was there, Avery felt herself deflate a little bit. She hoped it wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t. But it wasn’t exactly great, either. The line stretched almost all the way to the door, just as it had the other day, but this time it seemed to be moving a bit more quickly. And Avery could see the reason for that was the fact that they had more people working (maybe Joel had made more hires after seeing just how bad it was the other day) and she saw at least

one familiar face. The barista from the other day, Ash, was working the register, smiling politely at customers as she took their orders and marked cups, handing them over to her coworker, before welcoming the next customer. Halfway to the front, Ash met her eyes and gave Avery a wide grin, waving her over. Avery hesitated for a moment, seeing the annoyance on the faces of the other customers, but Ash was insistent, going so far as to call out her name. “Avery!” she said. “Come over here!” She turned back to her customer, quickly taking her order, but her eyes continued to flit back to Avery, who gave up resisting and made her way to the counter, even as she heard the groans of other patrons. “Hello,” she greeted, nervously. “How’ve you been?” “Can’t complain,” Ash replied. “At least I’m not the one that has to train the newbie.” She nodded toward the espresso bar, where an older barista was guiding a younger trainee around, helping him learn how to make drinks and serving them to the customers. “He’s not bad, though,” Ash continued. “Just really slow.” Avery shrugged. “Line’s moving faster than the last time I was here,” she pointed out. “True,” Ash laughed. “Hey, why don’t you give me your list and I’ll get your drinks ready to go.” “Oh, that’s alright,” Avery laughed, nervously. “I can wait. I still have, like, half an hour before I even need to think about leaving, anyway. It’s not that important.” “I know,” Ash said. “But this way you can go sit down

and relax a bit before work. I won’t even start making the drinks yet, anyway. It just makes more sense, you know? Especially since Mr. Harper likes his coffee like he likes his women.” At Avery’s confused expression, she elaborated: “Hot and fresh.” Ash winked and Avery pretended that the joke didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. “Thanks,” she said, handing over her list. Ash put it off to the side as she waved Avery off and addressed the next customer. Checking her phone for the time, Avery began making her way towards the “RESERVED” table in the corner (which Edith had said she was free to use whenever she wanted, so long as none of the Harpers needed it), before suddenly diverting her course as a thought struck her. “Hey, Ash?” she called over her shoulder on her way to the exit. “Yeah?” Ash called back, as she marked a cup without looking, her eyes trained on Avery. “When will those drinks be ready?” “Twenty to nine,” Ash promised. “Gives you enough time to get to the office and drop them on everybody’s desk as well as get yourself settled. At least according to Hannah.” “Who?” Avery asked, furrowing her brow. Edith hadn’t mentioned anybody named Hannah. “Doesn’t matter,” Ash replied. “Not important. Drinks will be ready soon enough. Why? Where’re you going?”

“Just to see a friend,” Avery replied, deciding that if Ash could be vague, so could she. “I’ll be back soon.” She let the door shut behind her, drowning out anything the barista said next. Abe was out on the street, hailing a cab for another hotel guest when Avery walked up to greet him. “Hey, Abe.” “Good morning, Miss James,” Abe replied, helping the elderly woman into her car. “Getting in a bit early today, I see; that’s quite the ‘Walk of Shame’ outfit, though. Very professional.” Avery snorted and shook her head as her cheeks flamed. “No, Abe,” she said. “I’m not staying at the hotel anymore. I…I got a job. That’s why I’m dressed like this.” “Really? That’s fantastic! I’m real happy for you, Miss James. Especially since you found yourself a nice place so fast.” “Actually,” Avery chuckled, “my new employer found me the place. They own it, actually.” “This new employer ain’t a pimp or nothing, is he?” Abe asked. “Because you and I both know that you can do better than that, Miss James.” “No, he’s not a pimp,” she sighed. “But…well, it’s kind of a funny story.” “Well, I ain’t going nowhere,” Abe said. “Go on and tell it; that is, if you’ve got the time, of course.” “For you, Abe? I’ve got all the time in the world,” Avery laughed. They made their way back to the front door, where Avery stood off to the side as she began to tell him

the story. “Remember that guy that bought me coffee at the café last week?” she asked him. “Yeah, I remember you telling me something about that,” Abe replied, nodding contemplatively. “What about him?” “Well, he’s my new boss,” Avery informed him. “Funny, huh?” “The world is a funny place,” he agreed. “But didn’t you say he was a playboy or something like that? You didn’t sleep with him to get the job, did you? Not that I’m judging. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past myself for a big enough salary.” “TMI, Abe,” Avery giggled, shaking her head. “And no, I didn’t sleep with him. I got this job the old-fashioned way; I gave him a lap dance.” “That’s how I got this one,” Abe joked and Avery snorted. “Seriously, though,” Avery said, “I didn’t sleep with him. I don’t know if I can say the same about some of the other applicants, though.” She thought about the blonde and the woman with the curly black hair and glasses that Joel had been flirting with pretty heavily at her interview. “But you’re the one that got the gig,” Abe reminded her. “Anything else don’t really matter, does it?” “You’re right,” Avery said, but she still couldn’t shake the thoughts of the giggling woman as she mooned over Joel. “What if he only hired me because he’s attracted to me?” The thought was not entirely unpleasant, she had to admit, but it also filled her with insecurity.

“The man can’t fire you just because you’re not attracted to him, now can he?” Something about that statement sounded false, but Avery didn’t really want to correct him. Partly because she didn’t want to admit to Abe that there actually was something she found oddly attractive about Joel Harper, but mostly because she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. Not yet, anyway. “No matter how you got the job,” Abe added, “just know that I’m proud of you. You put your mind to something and worked hard to get it. You’re a lot stronger than I thought.” Suddenly, there was a boulder in Avery’s throat and she tried to swallow past it, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. In all her years, her father had never said those words to her. He’d been proud, she knew, when she was Valedictorian at her high school graduation, and when her letter from Northwestern came, granting her a majority scholarship— as much as he hadn’t wanted her to leave for college, because he thought it was just a waste of time—but he’d never been able to voice his pride, it seemed. There was always something pulling him back. Perhaps it was the thought that, as her lone parent, he didn’t really have anybody to share those strong emotions with. Maybe he just didn’t know how to properly express them. Either way, Avery found herself wishing that her father had been more like Abe, whose eyes were shining now as he looked down at her, pride reflected as clearly in his eyes as it had been in his eyes. On impulse, Avery took a step toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug, which evidently surprised the big man,

who tensed under her hold for an instant before hugging back. “Now, now,” he said, “I can’t be caught crying in the middle of my shift.” He chuckled deeply as she stepped back, her face beet red. “Don’t look so ashamed,” he said. “It was a good hug. There’s just…a time and place. Thank you, though; I really needed that.” Avery smiled. “Me, too,” she said. Looking down at her phone, she sighed. “But I’ve gotta get going now. Time for work.” Abe nodded in understanding. “You take care, Miss James,” he said. “Come by soon and tell me all about it, you hear? Don’t be a stranger.” “I wouldn’t dream of it, Abe,” Avery chuckled as she made her way back up the street, towards the café. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder as she waved goodbye. Abe waved back with one hand as the other opened the hotel doors open for a young couple holding hands. When she got back to the café, Ash was already putting her drinks into two trays. When she saw Avery enter, she waved her over. “Perfect timing,” she said, stacking one tray on top of the other. Avery watched with barely restrained interest as the top tray locked over the drinks. Ash chuckled. “Cool, huh?” she asked. “Mrs. Harper invented these; makes it easier for travel when you’ve got a big drink order. Just be careful taking the top one off; it sometimes pulls off the lids.” Avery nodded. “She invented these?” she asked. “Did she get them patented?”

“Yep,” Ash confirmed. “It hasn’t really taken off yet, though. Not since she got the sickness.” “What exactly is that?” Avery asked her. “Edith told me that she was having some mental issues, but she never really explained.” “I’m not sure if she’d be okay with us discussing this,” Ash admitted. “Edith was always really protective of Mrs. Harper.” She swallowed thickly. “What, exactly, has she told you?” “That it’s kind of like Dementia, but not really?” Avery said. “What does that even mean?” “It means that they can’t really pinpoint exactly what it is,” Ash sighed. “One day, she just started to act weird.” “Weird how?” Avery asked. Ash shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve never even met the woman; I just know what I hear.” She took a deep breath. “She used to be really smart. Stuff like this,” she motioned to the stackable carriers, “barely touches the surface. She was all about accessibility and making people’s lives easier. Several of her companies are aimed at people with physical disabilities; devices that make everyday tasks easier on them. She had a really good heart.” “You make her sound like she’s deceased already,” Avery said with a frown. “Might as well be, from what I’ve heard,” Ash said, lowering her voice as the other baristas spared her an annoyed glance. Avery was now blocking the line of customers from approaching the registers and they’d

started to complain. Loudly. Ash either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “She’s not really the same person she used to be, apparently. I’ve heard from several people that her whole personality has pretty much changed on a dime. Like, she used to be so kind and charitable, but now…” She shook her head, trailing off. “Shame, really, if it’s true.” “There’s no cure for what she has?” Avery asked, frowning. “Like I said, they don’t even know what she has,” Ash reminded her. “Can’t cure something if you don’t even know what it is.” Avery nodded in agreement. “Anyway, uh, you should probably get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Mr. Harper waiting, now would you?” She winked and Avery chuckled, uneasily, a thousand questions swimming through her mind as she picked up the drinks. “Right,” she said. “Thanks, Ash.” “Don’t mention it,” the barista said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Avery. Good luck on your first day.” “Thanks,” Avery said, as she made her way to the door, leaving Ash to take the orders of some incredibly impatient and irritated customers. As Avery made her way down the road to the office, she found herself unable to stop thinking about Mrs. Harper. Wasn’t it odd that her condition came quite suddenly? Didn’t mental illnesses come on gradually? Had it happened gradually? Had it happened so slowly that nobody noticed until her condition suddenly worsened beyond repair? Wasn’t that how Dementia came on? So many questions and so few answers. The more the poor

afflicted woman was brought up, the more Avery wanted to know. She was once a brilliant inventor and even focused her talents and intelligence on helping those with physical disabilities. That was a noble cause if Avery had ever seen one, right? After her diagnosis, her kids had carried on her legacy, but their technology was more…modern. Their inventions were useful, but probably not necessary for everyday life. Did they ever think about that? Did they ever consider how their mother might react if she was aware of how they had set up their own business? Was she aware of how they’d set up her business? Avery knew that she was ill, but was she so ill that she was completely unaware of what was going on in the world around her? Is that what Edith meant when she said that what Mrs. Harper had was comparable to Dementia? But she’d also said that they weren’t exactly alike, as well… Oh, Avery was giving herself a headache and it wasn’t yet nine in the morning. She attempted to shoo all thoughts of Mrs. Harper from her mind as she approached the building and made her way toward the elevator, thanking the doorman as he held the front door open for her and greeting the security team as she flashed her new employee badge at them. They let her through the security check-in without a problem and called the elevator for her as she struggled with the drinks in her hands. “Thanks,” Avery said to the muscular guard who stood with her, waiting. “So,” she said, after a moment of awkward silence, “have you been working here long?” The man just spared her a single, side-long glance as

the elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. “Thanks, again,” Avery said as the doors closed. She met her eyes in the reflective surface of the closed doors and sighed, blowing some of the auburn hair away from her face. She’d pulled half of it back with a clip that morning, but she could already feel it coming loose and she doubted she had enough time to fix it now, before Joel arrived—if he wasn’t here already. Maybe she’d just take the clip out and let her hair hang free and loose. It couldn’t be any worse than how it looked now, with several strands of hair falling over her eyes and obstructing her vision. Avery did her best to blow the hair out of her face as the doors opened on her floor and she made her way down the hall, towards Joel Harper’s office, where her desk would be waiting for her just outside, not far from Edith’s. Once she put the drinks down, she might have a couple of seconds to fix herself up a bit. Edith was already at her desk when Avery walked up. “Lookin’ good,” she greeted. “Nice dress.” “Thanks,” Avery said, placing the drinks on the empty desk situated in the corner, caught between the wall next to Joel’s door and the adjacent one. Smoothing her hands down her sides, she checked to make sure that it hadn’t ridden up anywhere, before reaching up to pull the clip from her hair and shaking out the auburn locks. “I’m sorry, am I in the wrong building?” a familiar voice asked and Avery immediately froze, her eyes snapping open to see Joel Harper standing in the doorway to his office. “I could have sworn I was standing in my own office just seconds ago, but you don’t look familiar at all.”

Avery felt her cheeks fill with heat. How did he not recognize her? She almost excused herself in her mortification, but then Joel winked at her and gave her that charming smirk, causing her to relax. He’s just kidding. Avery resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead gave Joel a polite smile as she reached for the cup marked Mr. Harper and handed it to him. “Good morning, sir,” she said. “Here’s your latte.” “Sir?” Joel wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Please,” he said, “just call me Joel. Or Mr. Harper, if you feel you need to be more professional. But none of that sir shit, please. Makes me feel way too serious. There’s no need for that.” Yeah, Avery thought sarcastically. No need for that. It’s not like you run a multi-million dollar company or anything. “Of course, Mr. Harper,” she replied. “Whatever you say. What’s on the agenda for today, s—Mr. Harper?” “First, please go drop these coffees in the break room. People can pick up their own, I’m sure. Edith can show you where it is, can’t you, Edith?” He gave his secretary an expectant look and she sighed, standing. “Sure I can, Mr. Harper,” she said. “I’d be happy to.” “Great!” Joel exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “And then, afterwards, Miss James, I’ve left some instruction manuals on your desk. I would like you to read through them.” “Instruction manuals?” Avery asked, in confusion. She

turned to the desk, noticing a small pile of thin little booklets pushed off to the side. She hadn’t seen those before. “Yup,” Joel said. “I need you to know how to work most of our technology. Those are pretty basic, but that’s where you gotta start, right? Soon, you’ll be making the first notes on a proposed design from one of our seasoned engineers. Now won’t that be exciting.” It would be, but Avery kept her features schooled as she nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harper,” she said. “It would be.” “Great!” Joel said, clapping again. “Now, if you lovely ladies would excuse me, I will be in my office. Thanks for the coffee, Ashley.” “It’s Avery,” she corrected, gently, as he made his way into the office. She frowned at his retreating back and she allowed herself a single, aggravated eye roll. When she turned, she found Edith grinning at her with a knowing look. “He can be annoying sometimes,” she said. “But you learn to tolerate him.” “I find that increasingly difficult to believe,” Avery said. “But I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She turned back to the coffee trays and carefully extracted the top one, then turned back to Edith. “Care to make some introductions?”



Chapter Eight He had no face, but his body was as familiar to Avery as her own. His tan skin was grid-lined with scars and his muscles bunched under her curious fingers as she boldly ran them over his chest and abdomen. For a long moment, he was perfectly still, just allowing her hands to explore, before suddenly he was reaching for her. His longer fingers wrapped around her hips and Avery inhaled shortly as she was lifted in the air, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist as her arms curled around his strong shoulders. Avery closed her eyes as she felt him turn them around and then lower her onto her bed. When she opened her eyes, they were surrounded by a soft, comforting fog and she could feel the man’s lips against her neck, his teeth scraping over her pulse as she moaned, her nails digging into his back. His lips continued to descend, creating heat that rippled out from every place they touched. His hair brushed her chin and tickled her nostrils as she pressed kisses of her own to the top of his head. She moaned as he ran callused fingers over her bare stomach and sides, dragging them roughly over her hips until he hooked them into the band of her panties, tugging them down slowly as his lips lowered to meet the skin that he unveiled. Avery’s head fell back, her eyes closing on their own volition as her hands buried themselves in the man’s hair, her grip firm on the fine strands, her spine arching towards his mouth. His lips evaded her, however, and instead skirted around

where she really wanted him, his smile curved against the curves of her hips. She felt the growl rising in her throat and did nothing to stop its escape from between her lips. That infuriating smirk widened against her skin and then she felt a pair of lips pucker against her thigh, as if rewarding her, egging her on. Avery continued to moan and plead with him, her body arching and thighs clenching as his lips descended with the line of her panties. He kissed down one thick thigh, sucking and nipping and setting her body aflame, before kissing his way back up the other one; he left goosebumps in his wake and Avery shivered, her toes curling as he lifted her legs over his shoulders and anchored her with one arm over her waist. Still, he skirted the area where she really wanted his lips and tongue and teeth. She moaned louder, attempted to arch up into his mouth, and felt the vibration of his chuckles move against her as he pulled his lips from where she so desperately needed them and continued to hold her hips down with one arm. He nuzzled the sensitive skin at the crease of her thigh and she whimpered, attempting to wriggle out of his hold and away from the havoc he was currently wreaking on her body. “Please,” she cried out as he swiped his tongue just below her belly button, chuckling again at the agony in her voice as she attempted to tug his head back to where he should be. “Please touch me.” She felt his smile before his lips descended on her, at long last, his tongue swiping through her folds. Once, twice…

On the third time through, she glanced down her body at where his head was nestled between her thighs, his mouth open over her. Her breath froze in her lungs as she met his gaze and his icy blue eyes settled on her face. It felt as if he was looking straight into her soul, his tongue swiping through her wetness as the familiarity of those eyes finally clicked in her brain, simultaneously sending a flood of warmth and an icy chill through her veins. The man, whose face was now as familiar as the back of her own hands, where her fingers continued to tug at his dark hair, raised his head and, licking his lips, spoke just three words: “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request and Avery found herself unable to deny him. She swallowed thickly and took a shaky breath, licking dry lips before whispering, so low she almost couldn’t hear herself, “Joel.” She was rewarded with another long swipe of his tongue through her folds and Avery threw her head back, calling out his name as her eyes shut tight and she gripped his hair. Her voice was drowned out as a shrill shriek filled her consciousness. Avery startled awake to the sound of her alarm. Every inch of her body was covered in sweat. It dripped from her forehead and beaded on her collarbone, sent chills down her spine as it cooled on the back of her neck, making her hair stick there. Her hands were curled around the sheets at her side, pulling them loose from one corner of her mattress. She swallowed thickly as she

loosened her grip on one and reached over for the alarm clock, tapping the button on top to turn it off. When she was finally enveloped in silence again, Avery allowed herself to fall back and catch her breath, staring up at her ceiling. The room around her was just starting to fill with light as day broke, but Avery still felt as exhausted as she’d been the night before when she’d closed her eyes after a long day. Joel had been taking a lot of late nights and she’d been expected to stay until he left. He’d been nice about it, though; always ordered her dinner and paid for it out of his own pocket, even when she told him that it wasn’t necessary. She’d been there a month now, working as his assistant and learning as much as she could about technology and engineering and…and Joel. Joel Harper was secretive, but slowly he’d begun to open up, revealing tiny tidbits about his own life. Nothing huge or lifealtering. Just small things, said offhandedly like the fact that his favorite ice cream was rocky road, or that he was allergic to grapes. Tiny factoids that had no deeper meaning than they were just a part of how he lived and operated. She still didn’t know where he’d gotten the scar that marred his otherwise perfectly symmetrical face. She knew that he had more, though, and that they disappeared somewhere under the perfectly tailored suits that he wore. She saw them when he rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie after long day at the office. Neither of them ever acknowledged their existence, though, so sometimes Avery would be certain that she had just imagined them. Laying in bed now, she couldn’t help but think about

the lines that ran across his body (or, at least, across his collarbones and up his arms, since she had no way of knowing if there were any present on or around his chest) or the way that his muscles bunched when he… Avery sat back up and shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands up against her eyes. That’s not something that one should think about their boss. Those were not the kind of thoughts that were appropriate for the workplace. But it had been so long since her last romp. Avery was no virgin, but she might as well have been. Only two men had made it to the space between her legs and she’d left both of them in Illinois. It was no wonder that she was fantasizing about Joel like this. There weren’t many men that worked on her floor and, of the few that she did see as often as her boss, there was nobody with the same piercing blue eyes or welcoming body. After all, she couldn’t exactly fantasize about Greg from Accounting; the man was practically a corpse. Maybe, the tiny voice in the back of her head said, you should try to find somebody to…satisfy that need within you. Somebody that you don’t work with or for. Avery did a mental calculation of all the bars, pubs, and clubs within walking distance of her apartment. There were plenty of places to choose from where she might be able to pick up a guy—whether it be for a casual hookup or something a little more long-term—and she had most weekends free. Joel didn’t require her to come into the office, even when he worked on Saturday and Sunday nights. It shouldn’t take too much of her time to put on a nice dress and head on down the street. She wasn’t a model or anything, but she was fairly certain she could

get a guy back to her place with little to no effort. It’s not your place, though, a niggling voice, different than before, said in her ear. It’s Joel’s. And he lives there, too. The thought sent a shiver down Avery’s spine. That was right; Joel Harper and most of his family lived in this apartment building, which had been bought over a decade ago by his now ailing mother. She’d yet to see him in the elevator, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t —especially with her luck. No, she decided, it was better just to wait out the sixmonth training period and then go looking for a date when she had her own place. It would make things potentially less awkward than getting caught saying goodbye to a faceless man as he did the Walk of Shame down to the lobby. Likewise, Avery wouldn’t want to get caught doing the walk back to her apartment at the break of dawn. So she’d wait. She’d gone without sex for this long, hadn’t she? What was a few more months? At the ache between her legs, Avery let out a longsuffering groan and fell back onto the bed. Maybe she would just buy herself a toy.

Chapter Nine “Coffee!” Avery announced, placing the trays down on the break room table as her co-workers filed in after her. One by one, they grabbed the cups with their names on them and thanked her on their way out. Avery gave them each a polite smile as she sipped at her own mocha and grabbed Joel’s latte for him. “Hey, Avery,” Todd, one of the company’s senior engineer greeted. He was nice; tall and handsome, with a pleasant smile and kind, brown eyes. “Good morning, Todd,” Avery replied. “How are you?” “I’m doing well,” he replied, then chuckled, happily. “Better than well, actually.” He leaned in, conspiratorially. “I asked Dana to marry me last night.” Avery’s eyes widened as a smile stretched over her lips on its own accord. “You did?” she gasped. “Oh my god, what did she say?” Todd’s smile widened and he slipped his phone out of his pocket, pressing the home button as he lifted it up to show Avery the screen. On it, Avery saw a tiny Asian woman with jade-colored eyes and a wide, toothy grin. Her eyes were filled with sparkling tears as she held out her left hand, showing off a glittering diamond perched on her ring finger. The other hand was cupped over her mouth, barely covering it with her slender fingers. “She said yes!” Todd said, in case Avery hadn’t reached

her own conclusion yet. Avery laughed and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, careful not to drop her coffees. “Congratulations!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you.” “Thanks,” Todd chuckled. “We’re having an engagement party in a couple of weeks, if you’d like to come. Everybody in the office is invited.” “I’d love to,” Avery said, touched. “Thank you so much and congrats again. I have to get Mr. Harper his coffee.” “Yes, go do that,” Todd said, stepping aside and letting her by. “I’ll be emailing everybody with the details.” “Alright. See you later.” Avery was smiling happily, even as something inside her ached. She’d never had that kind of relationship before. Back home, her father had attempted to marry her off to nearly every young man she’d gone to school with and she’d had exactly zero interest in any of them, but she longed for something like what Todd and Dana seemed to have. For the last month, she’d watched the tiny woman come into the office, toting paper bags and the occasional tray of cupcakes (store bought), and dropping them off at her boyfriend’s desk, along with a kiss. They would giggle as they shared lunch at his desk, before Dana would hop off to her own office, blowing him a kiss from the elevator. Every day, Avery watched and smiled as she ate her own lunch, alone, at her desk. She’d always thought that they were a cute couple; Dana would make Todd laugh so hard that he almost choked and he’d tell her stories and show her designs that he’d been working on, eliciting

starry-eyed gazes and soft gasps as Dana looked over his shoulder. They were perfect together, honestly, and Avery had never felt anything but affection for the way they looked at each other and acted when the other was near. Until now. Because all she felt now, as she made her way to her boss’s office with his coffee warming her left hand, was regret. Regret that she hadn’t given any of the men in Greenfield a real chance at romance. She was only twenty-four years old, but she couldn’t help longing deep within for something like Dana and Todd had. Maybe someday… “Is that Mr. Harper’s coffee?” Edith asked, breaking Avery from her thoughts. The younger woman blinked at her for a moment, before nodding. “Um, yeah,” she said. “Yeah. Yeah, this is his.” She held up the coffee in her right hand and Edith nodded, waving her towards the office. “Go on in,” she said. “He wants to talk to you, anyway. When you come back out, I have some designs you should probably study.” Avery nodded, but her brows were furrowed in confusion. What did Joel need to speak to her about? Only one way to find out. The door to his office was cracked open and Avery pushed gently against it with her hip, peeking her head in around the door, checking to see that her boss wasn’t on the phone or something, before pushing the door a bit further and stepping fully inside the room. Joel was

typing something on his laptop; he didn’t even glance up until Avery cleared her throat. “Coffee,” she said, holding up the cup in her right hand. Joel gave her a charming grin, motioned her in with one large hand, and then pushed up the glasses that were perched at the edge of his nose, saying nothing as he went right back to his typing. His tie was already loosened and his suit coat was folded over the arm of one of the seats opposite him at the desk. Avery quickly crossed the length of the room and placed the coffee down in front of him, then patiently waited for a response as he reached for it. Joel was silent for a long moment, eyeing whatever had his attention on the screen as he took a long sip. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his blue eyes tore from the laptop to look down at the cup in his hand. He grinned and settled his gaze on Avery; she, in turn, attempted to ignore the flutter in her chest as she placed the cup in her hand to her lips and took a sip of her own. Then her own brows furrowed as she pulled it away. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry, wrong cup.” She held out Joel’s latte and he traded it for her mocha. Their fingers brushed around the cups and she suppressed another shiver, soon pulling away. She cleared her throat. “Um, Edith said you wished to speak to me,” she said, “about something?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but that’s how it came out. Joel smiled and motioned for her to sit, before his eyes went right back to the screen. The fingers on his free hand resumed their typing for a moment longer as she forced herself to get comfortable. When she took a sip of the right drink this time, she felt a tingle in her lips and she saw a flash of her earlier dream

behind her eyes, unbidden. She pressed her lips together as she waited for him to speak, looking down at the rim of her cup, which his lips had touched… “Avery?” She whipped her head up at the sound of his voice, found him smiling at her, his head tilted slightly as his glasses slid back down his nose. Avery cleared her throat and straightened her back, letting him know that she was listening to whatever it was he had to say, good or bad (though she didn’t know what could possibly be wrong right now, with him smiling at her like that). “You can relax,” he said, as if reading her mind. “It’s nothing bad, per se…not unless you really hate parties.” Avery frowned in confusion. “Parties?” she asked. Why would he have called her into his office to talk about parties, she wondered. “Um, no, I don’t. W-why?” Joel pushed back slightly from his desk and Avery ignored (almost) the way his muscles bunched under his shirt as he reached for one of his drawers and tugged it open with dexterous fingers, which she also ignored (almost). Reaching in with one hand while his other tipped the coffee cup into his mouth, taking another long sip (and Avery couldn’t even fool herself into believing that she wasn’t completely enamored by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, making her swallow thickly in reaction), as he pulled out a small envelope, then slid it across the desk to her. “What’s this?” Avery asked, placing her drink to the side as she reached for the envelope, which was silvery and delicate-looking. The deep red wax seal had been broken already and the flap was bent, revealing a card of offwhite paper inside. Avery slid it from its pocket as she looked up, eyeing Joel.

“Just read it,” he said, taking another sip of his latte as he watched her. Avery’s gaze returned to the card and the elegant calligraphy on the front. The script was so thin and fancy, it was almost difficult for her to read, but she could make out the word “Gala” first and then the other words began to register in her mind. A date, a time, and a name… “This invitation is addressed to you,” she informed him, looking back up to meet his piercing blue gaze, which was still settled on her, over the rim of those dark glasses. “I’m aware,” he said. “But if you’ll direct your attention to the fine print below my name…” “‘This invitation is extended to one guest of your own choosing’,” Avery read, her eyes widening slightly. “You want me to be your Plus-One?” “Ideally, no,” Joel admitted, with a shrug, and Avery tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. “Ideally,” he continued, “you’d have your own invitation.” She gave him another look of confusion. “We reserved our spots for the entire office months ago,” he explained. “Usually, somebody informs me by this time that they’re unable to make it or something comes up last minute—a death in the family, illness, etc.—but this year…nothing. Everybody who’d reserved a spot still plans to be there, which means we have a bit of a dilemma.” “So you want me to be your Plus-One?” Avery asked again. “That’s the only way I can really see you getting into the party,” Joel admitted. “Unless, you don’t want to go at all

—which is also fine. It’s just one gala, after all. There will be plenty more in the next couple of months. Charities, as well. And office parties. This is just one of many that you’ll be invited to, so it’s not really all that serious if you miss it. Except…” “Except?” Avery asked, feeling the familiar fluttering in her stomach. “Well, there’s bound to be plenty of other bigwigs from my competitors there,” Joel informed her. “You could make some really important connections there. Or you could do a little company espionage.” “Espionage?” Avery chuckled. Joel echoed her. “Sort of,” he said. “You could cozy up to some of the stuffy businessmen, maybe get them to accidentally reveal a little info about their upcoming products—their patents. No pressure, though,” he added as Avery’s eyes bulged. “You could just go for some dancing and a couple drinks, if you want. Parties are supposed to be fun, after all. You don’t have to make a decision right now, obviously. Go ahead and think about it. You have a couple weeks until you have to be fitted for your gown; Edith always books the best designers, if that helps to sway your decision. But, like I said, no pressure. It’s completely up to you.” But the look in his eyes told Avery that he already knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth. She did not disappoint. “I’ll go,” Avery said, standing up, forcing her spine to remain straight, fighting against the flush that spread across her cheeks. “Of course I’ll go. Just, um, let me

know when the fittings are and what accommodations I’ll need to make for travel.” “Oh,” Joel replied, standing as well. He straightened his tie as he settled his gaze on her and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’ll of course be picking you up at your apartment. After all, we do live in the same building, so it seems only natural, doesn’t it?” Avery nodded in agreement, but her tongue seemed to be stuck in her throat, keeping her from responding verbally. “Especially since, technically, you’ll be my date for the evening.” She made a slight choking sound despite her best efforts and Joel chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” Of that, Avery had no doubt. She’d caught sight of him at the café on Sunday mornings, his arm slung around a different woman’s waist each time. He’d never touched them inappropriately or made any move that seemed untoward. In fact, they were often laughing at something he said, enamored with his dimpled grin and boyish charm. He bought each of them a coffee and insisted that they eat at least one scone, before taking their hand and walking them out of the shop. Avery watched, every time, from the corner seat, hiding herself behind a book, and studied the genuine lift of his lips as he listened to each woman talk. She often found herself wondering why she never saw the same one twice. But at least he’d treated each of them with respect. She had no doubt that he’d do the same with her. Well, she thought, flushing as her dream once again flashed behind her eyes, maybe not exactly the same.

They were professionals, after all. And he was her boss. “Of course, Mr. Harper,” she said, offering him a forced smile. “I would expect nothing less.” With that, she turned and quickly made her way out of the office. She didn’t even wait to hear the response that was surely on the tip of his tongue. Less than a minute after Avery slumped in her desk chair, Edith was there beside her, dropping a pile of blueprints on her desk. “Look over these, will ya?” she said. “And send me your measurements when you get a chance, so I can send them off to Lila.” “Lila?” Avery asked, gathering up the blueprints. “Like… Lila Lord?” “So you’ve heard of her?” Edith asked. “That makes one of us.” “She’s one of the most prolific fashion designers in the country,” Avery informed her. “Doll, my clothes are from the Gap. Macy’s, if I wanna treat myself a little. I never know these fancy designers that Mr. Harper sends me to. Who has the time? Or money?” She scoffed. “Just send your measurements, okay?” Avery nodded, watching as Edith returned to her own desk, just a few feet away. She turned her gaze down to the blueprints on the desk in front of her, but she found it hard to focus on the designs and words on the page as one thought played on repeat in her mind. I’m going on a date with Joel Harper.



Chapter Ten “Ouch!” “Well hold still!” Avery frowned at her tailor’s reflection in the mirror. Bethany was young and impatient and obviously had it out for her. Every couple seconds, she poked Avery with a needle, Avery jumped, and Bethany yelled at her, despite the fact that it was so not her fault. “Are you almost done?” Avery sighed, looking back at her reflection in the mirror. The dress she was wearing was a deep emerald green that was edged in lace and fell to the floor in a pool of silk. It was still a little loose around the chest and tight around her stomach and thighs, but it was still the most magnificent dress she’d ever worn. Lila Lord really had a gift. “Ouch!” she hissed, jumping slightly. “Yeah, I’m done,” Bethany sighed. “Go and change into the red one for me, okay? It should fit you a lot better than this one.” Avery nodded and hobbled toward the small changing area, where several glamorous ball gowns hung behind a folding divider. She ran her fingers over them with one hand while the other tugged down her zipper in the back. She felt a bit of relief as the dress gave way and she gently peeled it away from her skin, making sure not to displace any of the pins. The lace left imprints on her skin that looked like ivy climbing up her arms and collarbones. Avery was mesmerized by them

for only a moment, before her thoughts were interrupted by Bethany’s sigh of impatience. It wasn’t the first time she’d made the passiveaggressive sound. Avery rolled her eyes, placing the dress back on the rack, next to the yellow one she’d tried on earlier. Now, there were just two left. Avery grabbed the red one and pressed it to her body. Like the green dress, this gown was composed mostly of silky material that felt soft to the touch and looked very expensive. Hearing another sigh, she quickly slipped her body into the dress and reached back for the zip, only to clutch at ribbons instead. “There’s no zipper for that one,” Bethany informed her, poking her head over the top of the divider. “Just come out and I’ll lace you up.” Avery did as told, fixing the heart-shaped bodice around her chest and smoothing down the front of the dress. She didn’t think that it was too tight, but it wrinkled around her waist, which meant that it might have been too loose in that area. Looking in the mirror, however, her breath was taken away at the sight of herself. The dress had a sort of Jessica Rabbit look to it, going only down to her knees, with a slit up the side that reached straight to her left hip and nearly revealed part of the thong she was wearing. Without any sleeves, the top of the gown held loosely to Avery’s chest—then more tightly as Bethany pulled the laces at the small of her back, forcing some of the air to leave Avery’s lungs. “Hmm,” she heard Bethany say from behind her. “Fits nicely, but the middle could use some work. Turn

around.” Avery grimaced. “You’re not gonna prick me in the stomach, are you?” she asked. “Not if you just stand still,” Bethany retorted. “Now, come on; spin.” She grabbed Avery boldly by the hips and turned her around. For her small stature, Bethany was surprisingly strong. Her blonde curls were piled high upon her head and her green eyes were enlarged by a pair of thick, cat-eye glasses. There was a pencil nestled behind her ear and a tape measure around her shoulders. She pulled at the latter and wrapped it around Avery’s waist, for the third time, as if the circumference of her waist might have changed in the last five minutes. Then, she almost immediately stuck Avery with a surprise needle. “Fuck!” Avery exclaimed. “That’s professional,” Bethany mumbled in response. “Stop poking me already!” Avery growled. “Jesus.” “Don’t be such a baby,” Bethany huffed. “It’s just a pin. Haven’t you ever gotten acupuncture; it’s exactly the same.” “No, it’s really not.” “Whatever. Turn back around.” Avery turned and looked herself in the mirror a second time. Except for the pin fastening the front of the dress, making it fit more snugly around her belly, she looked… good. Sexy. She hadn’t noticed the lacy ribbons that stretched from the slit in her dress up to nearly her

armpit, or the skin that was revealed in the spaces it left behind. She turned her torso and looked at herself from the side. The dress did wonders with her figure; she’d never felt this…desirable. She wondered if Joel would like it. At that thought, Avery flushed. She could see the redness creeping up her neck, almost matching the deep shade of the dress. “What’s wrong?” Bethany asked as Avery forced out a breath. “Too tight?” “N-no,” Avery replied, shaking her head and displacing a few auburn tendrils from her messy ponytail. “It’s just that I…I’ve never worn something like this before. Something so…” She shrugged, unable to find the right words. “Seriously?” Bethany asked, laughter in her voice, though it wasn’t unkind. “This isn’t even the nicest dress I’ve fitted today. You should see what Lila designed for Kara Nichols.” She let out a low whistle. “For a mother of three, she looks like a goddamn supermodel.” Avery nodded, looking down as her hands nervously smoothed down the side of her skirt, which clung to her thigh like static. “I’m sure she’s used to things like this by now, huh?” she said. “Personally, I’ve only fit her for a half dozen dresses, but Lila has designed countless gowns for the Harper family over the years. And suits.” “I wasn’t aware Lila Lord did suits,” Avery commented. “Only for the Harpers,” Bethany informed her. “Actually,

she might have had a thing for Joel at one point; he always gets the best ones.” She winked at Avery in the mirror and the taller woman forced a laugh, but the smile fell from her face as soon as Bethany ducked back behind her body and she could feel her playing with the ribbons at her back. “Are they…I mean, do you know if Joel—Mr. Harper ever…” “Probably,” Bethany said. “These laces are nice, aren’t they? Lila thought they’d look better than a zipper; goes better with the whole aesthetic, you know?” She stood and began loosening the ties. “But, yeah, I think they had a little something a while back. I mean, why not? They’re both consenting adults and all that. Besides, he’s hot, don’t you think? I mean, wouldn’t you?” She wiggled her eyebrows in the mirror and Avery turned red as a beet and glared back. “No!” she huffed, pulling away. “No?” Bethany asked. “He’s my boss,” Avery reminded her. “It would be unprofessional.” Bethany scoffed. “Listen,” she said. “If my boss looked like your boss, then I’d toss professionalism right out the window and throw my legs in the air.” Avery rolled her eyes at the woman and choked out a laugh, but she couldn’t help the voice screaming in the back of her head: AMEN. She ignored it as she moved back to the changing area, slipping out of the red dress and tugging at the longer navy blue one. This one had a halter top and it fit like a dream.

When Avery made her way back out, Bethany’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the sight of her. “Well damn,” she said. “I think we found a winner.” *****



The suit Joel Harper wore was an original, designed and tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips. The material of his waistcoat stretched tightly across his chest and the deep blue of his shirt was an attractive contrast to the bright color of his eyes. The sleeves of his jacket fit snugly around his arms, though not to constrict his muscles, which rippled slightly as he flexed, enjoying the way the expensive material moved and stretched with him. Lila Lord was a miracle worker, he thought. Her hands were masterpieces in themselves. He smirked at the memory of those hands in his, her slender, slightly callus-roughened fingers lacing with his. He’d known Lila for a long time and what they’d had was never…real; not in the way he’d wanted it be. But it was fun. Lord knows he could use a little fun in his life. But Lila was married now. Joel, himself, had introduced her to her current husband and they were expecting their first child via surrogate. She was happy and so was he. Looking back at the reflection of his face, Joel surveyed the shaven line of his jaw. He’d gone to a barber shop earlier for a touch up. He rarely allowed himself the privilege of being spoiled so—what, with work and his mother…. At the thought of his mother, he found his attention diverted to the photography hanging on the wall behind him, in his living room. It was all his, taken over the span of his life, with various cameras and at various locations around the world—though the majority was taken right there, in New York City. In the center of the photographs of him and his siblings

and landscapes was one that pulled all of it together, though it contained just one single person; Joel’s mother, Elizabeth Harper. It was the first photograph he’d ever taken of anybody or anything and he still could remember the way the button felt shifting under the weight of his index finger, how the shutter had clicked, the sound echoing in his ear for a few seconds, and the surprise in his mother’s green eyes as the flash reflected back at him. He remembered giggling as she chased him around, trying to take both the camera and Polaroid back from him. Even wearing a tight, pencil skirt, she’d been able to catch him and lift the five-year-old boy above her head, both of them laughing uproariously. She had settled him on her hip and plucked the photograph right out of his hand and held it up as the instant film slowly developed until they could both see her look of surprise, staring back at them. Joel had hid his giggles in Elizabeth’s shoulder as she wrinkled her nose in distaste, but then she’d handed him the photo with a smile and a kiss to his cheek. “Keep trying,” she’d whispered in his ear, before placing him on the floor with his new hobby. Joel had gone on to take far better photos of his entire family—his mother included—and his hobby had developed into a love of machinery as he’d taken apart nearly every camera he’d ever gotten and then put them all back together on his own. He had a fondness for parts and had always been curious about how cameras could capture images in increasingly startling quality. Moreover, how he could further improve that quality. Perhaps that first photograph had led him to where he was right now; part-owner of a majorly successful tech

company, specializing in cameras and luxury televisions. His mother was definitely a big part of that, as well, and he kept her as close as she would allow. The polaroid, at first glance, might have seemed just as ornamental as any of the other photographs on his wall, but anybody that truly knew him—or Elizabeth—knew that there was a far deeper story. A sadder story. Joel squared his shoulders in an attempt not to think about it. He did not have the time to think about it. Not right now. Not ever. He had somewhere to be, work to do, a life to live without dwelling on…that. As if on cue, he felt the vibration of a cell phone in his pocket and he reached in, pulling out his phone to see a text from his limousine company, informing him that his car would be there in five minutes or less. Joel took a deep breath as he slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned, once again, to look back at his reflection in the full-length mirror. His suit fit perfectly and was completely unruffled, his tie straight and perfectly aligned with the buttons on his shirt. His hair was gelled back and neat, a few tendrils curling at the nape of his neck. His jaw was angled attractively and his glasses gave him an heir of intelligence that was not misplaced. He looked good. Better than good. Avery would appreciate it. The corners of his lips curled up at the thought of Avery James, his assistant. The young and fiercely intelligent woman who had proven her worth as both his assistant and a potential engineer for Harper Images if she chose to continue with the company in the long-term. He was already prepared to offer her a promotion, but Kara had

held him off. As head of HR, his sister was cautious when it came to higher-level hiring. It was she who’d set the sixmonth training minimum and he who insisted that there was no need for it. More often than not, however, it was Kara who was proven correct. Still, even after just a month of knowing her, Joel could tell that there was something different about Avery James; something special. And he was determined to find out what that was. With that thought on his mind, Joel gave himself one last perusal before turning on his heel and striding right out of the apartment, on his way to pick up his date. He spared one last glance at his mother’s photograph as he flicked off the light and watched the glimmer leave her eyes, like he had so many times before. The door shut hard behind him. ******



Her hair was…shiny. And somehow sparkly. Avery hadn’t even noticed Edith’s hairdresser putting anything resembling glitter in her hair, but as she turned her head back and forth, she could see it clinging to her hair like it had always been there. Her auburn locks fell, loosely curled, around her shoulders; they resembled cascading waves over a waterfall and, combined with the floor-length gown that Bethany had chosen for her, she looked like a princess. And she felt like one, too. More than she’d ever felt like one before, even in childhood. Her mother had played princess with her for hours when she was a little girl, up until her untimely death. Avery could still remember the tea parties that had lasted for hours and their horrible fake British accents as they’d giggled about crumpets and meetings with the king, keeping their pinkies in the air as they sipped from tiny plastic tea cups. Back then, Avery had truly believed that she was a princess. She hadn’t felt like that since her mother was around, could never quite grasp the magic of moments like that. Her father had tried, as gruff as he was, to make her happy and to raise her the way any little girl should be raised—in his opinion—but she never really got back to that place. Until now. Looking in the mirror, at herself dressed in that beautiful designer gown, with her hair twinkling in the light of her apartment and her face painted to frame her face, Avery truly felt like a princess again. She turned to look at herself over her shoulder and admired the line of her back that disappeared under the impossibly soft

fabric at her hips. She could see the soft fold at her waist, the freckled curves of her shoulders and the loose bow tied at the nape of her neck, which held up the top part of her dress. Turning back around, she admired the gaping neckline and the lace bridge that spanned across the undersides of her breasts, allowing them to swell and press together, alluringly. The skirt of the dress hugged her hips and thighs just right and the fabric split around her knees, freeing her long legs enough to walk and leaving the rest to follow behind her, like a train. Bethany had even set her up with a pair of silver, strappy heels that complemented the silvery sparkles that glittered all over the fabric, changing in the light the way the sparkles in her hair did. The air around her even seemed to twinkle and Avery felt her breath catch in her lungs. She just looked…so damn beautiful. And she felt it, too. When there was a knock at her door, she startled and spun away from the mirror, nearly twisting her ankle as her hair fluttered around, resting now over one shoulder. Avery swallowed thickly; she knew exactly who would be at her door right now. Checking her cell phone, she confirmed that it was, indeed, half-past seven. The gala started at eight. Her date was here to pick her up and she found herself wondering what Joel would be wearing tonight. Would he look as magical as she felt tonight? Of course he will, that voice in the back of her head chastised. Doesn’t he always? Avery shook her head to dispel the thoughts, careful not to muss the carefully crafted hairstyle, as she grabbed the matching clutch that Bethany had lent her and tucked her phone inside as she crossed the studio

and reached for the door. Before she opened it, however, she took a moment to breathe and straightened her spine, painting on a confident smile as she tugged on the doorknob. The smile almost immediately dropped from her lips as she was met with the hypnotic, icy gaze of Joel Harper as he stood straight, tall, broad, and handsome in her doorway. Avery couldn’t help the way her eyes slowly dragged over his form, from the shiny black designer shoes that encased his rather sizeable feet, to the formfitting pants that hugged the curves of his impressive thighs and the jacket that squeezed and shifted with his biceps, to the slicked back hair and the glasses perched at the end of his nose, which he casually pushed back with one thick finger. She swallowed thickly, her fingers clenching around the clutch in her hands. “Hello,” she greeted, her voice low and partially stuck in her throat. “Good evening,” Joel replied. “You look lovely tonight.” His words and the smirk on his lips were genuine, but there was a slightly teasing glint in his eyes. Instead of making her defensive, like she might have expected, though, Avery felt herself become suddenly shy. “Thank you,” she said. “So do you. Handsome, I mean.” She cleared her throat, nervously. “But not lovely?” Joel teased, good-naturedly. Avery felt heat in her cheeks as she rolled her eyes, relaxing a bit. He chuckled and offered his arm. “Are you ready to go?” he asked. “Yes,” Avery replied, curling her fingers in the crook of

his elbow as her opposite hand held the clutch against her midsection and she allowed him to guide her out of the apartment, the lock clicking into place behind them as they glided down the hall towards the elevator. Avery could feel the flutters in her stomach start up again and, for the first time, she didn’t fight them.



Chapter Eleven The limousine was silent as they made their way to the banquet hall. It wasn’t too far away; less than a mile from the apartment building, but Joel had insisted that they arrive in a limo. “For the paparazzi,” he explained. “I rarely allow them to take my picture out in public, but this is a special occasion.” He gave her a dimpled grin and Avery felt her stomach flutter. She’d not been able to get rid of the butterflies since the second she first saw Joel in his perfectly tailored and custom-designed suit. Her fingers clenched around her purse in an attempt to keep from smoothing down the material over her stomach. It wasn’t wrinkled or mussed in any way, but her hands tended to flutter there when she was under a great amount of stress; a nervous habit she’d picked up from her mother as a child. She turned her gaze to look out the window as the city passed them by, in a blur of color and lights. Even after living there for two months now, Avery was still taken aback by the fact that she could walk the streets of New York City anytime she wanted, weatherpermitting. She walked to work every day, taking in the colors of Autumn, which had started just the week before, and the few leaves that fluttered past her on the way. She took in the scent of Pumpkin Spice everything that the café served and was reminded of the university café at Northwestern. She’d yet to call her father, whose birthday had passed without much notice. She wondered

if he missed her or if he was just worried about where she’d gone. “Would you like a drink?” Joel’s voice broke through Avery’s thoughts and she turned to blink up at him. He was giving her that smile as he held a few tiny bottles of liquor in one large hand. He offered them to her and Avery hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said. “Should we be…? I mean, we’re almost there.” “Exactly,” Joel chuckled, unscrewing one of the bottles of amber liquid, skillfully, with one hand. His fingers were deft and sure, making Avery swallow thickly as a decidedly unprofessional thought crossed her mind. She could feel her cheeks flush. “I always take just one before a big event,” Joel was saying. “It’s not much more than a shot.” He tipped his head back, downing the entire bottle in one goal. Avery’s eyes watched his Adam’s apple bob with too much interest, but she was able to divert her eyes before he met them, pretending to look at the selection he was offering. Swallowing the rum was harder than she thought, despite the scant amount of liquid. She tried not to cough, lest she stain her dress with the refuse, but she could feel Joel’s eyes on her and her throat tightened in response to his hot gaze. Still, she was able to get it all down and only coughed once or twice as it burned a path down her trachea. “Thanks,” she said, handing him the bottle back. Joel took it and tossed the empty ones into a small trash bin attached to the door. “I needed that.”

“You really shouldn’t be too nervous,” he told her. “This isn’t even one of our more important events this year. I don’t even know why they’re calling it a ‘gala’.” He huffed, giving her a crooked grin and rolling his eyes. “It’s just a formal dinner, really, with some dancing. The next one… that’s when you should be nervous.” “Thanks,” Avery replied with an edge of sarcasm to her tone, though she did feel her body relax a bit as she felt her bare shoulder brush against his. Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, she turned her gaze back outside. The limousine had slowed with traffic; she could hear the honks and yelling through the cracked window, pedestrians crossed the street at odd places, looking both ways to avoid being hit by oncoming cabs. When the car picked up speed again, she sighed as the wind provided some much-appreciated relief to the flush that was now spreading over her entire body, thanks in part to the rum (and in larger part to Joel’s shoulder still brushing against hers every so often). Avery focused on her breathing and the colors and the lights and…and then suddenly, it all stopped. “We’re here.” Joel’s voice warmed her ear and his fingers burned the skin of her wrist. Both were gone before she could even turn her head, replaced by cold open space as Joel slipped out of the door, disappearing momentarily in a sea of brightly flashing lights. “You coming?” She heard him say, and then his large hand was reaching back in, his palm upturned, fingers spanning wide. Avery took a deep breath as she reached out, placing her slender hand into his palm and felt the spark of electricity run up her spine as his fingers closed around

hers. Joel tugged gently, helping her out of the car as Avery took hold of her skirt, keeping the dress straight as she took her first step onto the street. She was immediately blinded by the flash of dozens of cameras and deafened by what felt like thousands of voices, all yelling at her. “Mr. Harper!” one of the few she could make out was saying. “Who’s your date this evening?” Joel didn’t answer. Instead, she felt the pressure of his hand at the small of her back as he guided her down a carpeted walkway towards the banquet hall. With the flashes going off on either side of them, Avery couldn’t see much more than a pair of silver, glass-plated doors as they were opened by two large men in black suits. One of them nodded at Joel. “Good to see you, again, Mr. Harper,” he greeted. “Miss.” The other nodded at Avery, wordlessly. She offered him a polite smile as Joel guided her inside. Before the doors closed behind them, Avery heard a voice that stood out among the rest, carrying into the foyer with them. “Mr. Harper, what can you say about your mother’s illness? How is Elizabeth Harper?” He couldn’t have been expecting an answer, Avery knew, but perhaps just hoping for any kind of reaction. And he got one. As soon as his mother was mentioned, she felt Joel tense, his fingers digging into her bare back, though his steps never once faltered. She felt his chest move against her arm as he took a deep breath and one glance up at his face told her that he was making an effort not to

let the question affect him. His jaw was tense and his lips were pressed in a firm line. Avery wanted so much to help him in some way, but she could think of nothing. So she just allowed him to lead her through another set of silver doors and into a rather sizeable ballroom. She couldn’t keep the gasp from tripping off her lips and felt, more than heard, Joel’s chuckle as it vibrated down the left side of her body. “Impressive, huh?” he murmured in her ear as he continued to steer her, his hand still very hot on her back, further into the room. That was a gross understatement, in Avery’s opinion. The banquet hall was huge. There were dozens of tables spread about, leaving enough space for waiters and other staff members to weave through without knocking into each other or any of the hundreds of guests milling about. In the center of the room, taking up about one-third of the space, looked to be a dance floor, though nobody was dancing. Instead, many of the elegantly-dressed businessmen and women were standing in small groups, drinking from Champagne glasses as they chuckled over whatever it was they were talking about. The women dripped with jewels and pearls and the suits on the men were all perfectly fitted. A few photographers milled about, taking pictures and handing out business cards. One approached Joel and Avery, holding up a camera. “For the spread?” he asked. Joel glanced down at Avery, who nodded imperceptibly, and she saw a flash of something in his eyes, though his face remained impassive. He nodded to the photographer, who gave them a beaming grin as he backed up and held his camera up to his face. Joel turned toward him and Avery felt her breath stutter when

he wrapped one arm around her midsection, his hand coming to rest on her right hip, pulling her more firmly against his body. She bit her lip for an instant before gazing up at the camera, as well, and prayed that the hunger she felt didn’t appear in her eyes or show up in the flush on her cheeks. She took a deep breath and gave the camera a small, elegant upturn of the lips. Professional, she hoped, despite how very unprofessional she felt with her boss’s arm wrapped around her waist. She picked up her chin a bit and the smile widened just seconds before the flash went off. Then another. “Alright,” the photographer said, “I think I’ve got it. Thank you, Mr. Harper. And you, Miss…?” “That’s enough,” Joel said, his arm still wrapped protectively around Avery’s waist as he guided her toward a table towards the center of the room. On their way, she spotted a few of her co-workers at another table—all dressed in attire similar to hers—and waved at them. A few waved back and a few just stared. Two women, whose names she didn’t know, turned to whisper to each other, their heads tilted together as their eyes flickering back to her for an instant, before returning to look at each other. Avery felt her cheeks burn, but she could do nothing about the gossip that would no doubt spread by Monday morning, so she just held on for the ride. “Joel!” a familiar voice greeted. “Avery!” Turning her head forward, Avery’s lips turned up at the sight of Kara Nichols as she stood to greet them. Like Joel, Kara had broad shoulders and, though not as tall as her younger brother, her stature made Avery feel like she was standing next to an Amazon. The taller woman

immediately pulled her in for a hug that was gentle despite her size, then held her at arm’s length. “Don’t you look absolutely gorgeous!” she gushed, giving Avery a wide, dimpled grin. She had the same deep blue eyes as Joel and they twinkled beneath a shimmering chandelier that hung just above their heads. Then her gaze flitted to Joel and her smile turned affectionate. “And my brother,” she sighed, reaching to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing his smooth jaw. “Handsome, as always.” Joel grinned and pushed his glasses up his nose. “And my sister,” he replied, “equally as beautiful.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek. “I would give you a kiss back,” Kara told him, “but I wouldn’t want to smudge my lipstick all over that chubby cheek of yours.” She cooed, pinching the skin between her thumb and forefinger. Joel just laughed and swatted her hand away, turning down to look at Avery. “Shall I make the introductions?” he asked, looking between her and Kara. His sister nodded. “Please.” “Well, you know my sister, obviously,” Joel said. Avery smiled at Kara and nodded. “This handsome old man is her husband, Tom.” The man that stood up was in no way old (he may have actually been younger than Kara herself) and had dark brown hair with a spattering of gray just above his ears, though his face was virtually unlined. He was exactly the same height as Kara and he wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life, but he wasn’t bad to look at, either. His handshake was firm, but his hands were soft. “Tom, this is my assistant, Avery James.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss James,” Tom said. His voice was deep; as warm as his eyes. “Likewise, Mr. Nichols,” Avery replied, giving him a nod and a polite smile. The rest of the introductions went much more quickly. Most of their table was already sitting and nobody really wished to stand. Instead, they each nodded their heads as Joel introduced them and a few even gave Avery small nods. They all worked at Harper Images or one of the sister companies that was not run so much by the Harper family, but rather by a partner. Except one. “Last, but not least,” Joel said, turning to a younger man (who fell somewhere between his age and Avery’s), “Antonio Juarez-Ramos.” This man stood up, offering Avery a dashing grin as he reached for her hand, bringing it up to his lips instead of shaking it. Avery felt the tips of her ears redden and it was suddenly difficult to swallow. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Juarez-Ramos,” she said, once she got past the lump in her throat. “It is an absolute delight to meet you, my dear,” the man replied. “And please, call me JR. I never go by my full name.” Avery nodded. “Of course,” she said. “And you can call me Avery.” She cleared her throat, turning to look at the rest of the table. “You can all call me Avery,” she clarified. “I prefer it.” “Avery,” JR echoed, tasting the name on his lips. “Beautiful.” Avery flushed and averted her gaze back to Joel. His face was once again impassive, but there was a

tightness in his jaw that did not go unnoticed by her. “Should we sit?” she asked him, placing her hand on his arm. Joel nodded, curtly, and pulled out the chair closest to Kara, motioning for Avery to sit, before placing himself in the chair between she and JR. The other man still peeked around Joel’s back to catch a glance at her, sending Avery another charming grin. She felt her face heat up once more, but decided it best to ignore him as she turned, instead, to talk to Kara. They struck up a conversation about Kara’s children and Avery felt Joel slowly begin to relax next to her. Before long, salads were placed in front of them and nearly everybody at the table was engrossed in tales about their own families. Most of the men were older than their wives and still had small children of their own, but there were a few older couples that could brag about their grandchildren’s first steps. One couple, however, didn’t add much to the conversation. The woman was young, though, and her husband was noticeably much older than she, so Avery thought that perhaps they didn’t have any children yet. Still, there was no harm in including on the conversation. “So, Emerson,” she said, addressing the young woman. “Any plans to have children soon?” She looked between the woman and her assumed husband, only to find the younger’s cheeks turn beet red. “Oh,” Emerson said, “well I…I’m not even out of college yet, so no?”

“You better not be,” Mr. Hart said. “Your mother would have a heart attack.” “Your…mother?” That was an odd thing to say, Avery thought as she knitted her eyebrows. “Yes,” Mr. Hart confirmed. “She would kill us both if I let our daughter get herself knocked up before finishing school.” Avery’s eyes widened at that, quite noticeably and Emerson’s blush deepened in response. “Oh no,” she said. “Did you think…? Oh gosh.” She practically buried her face in her salad, the blonde curls that framed her face, suddenly covering it like a curtain. Mr. Hart just laughed. Loudly. “No, no,” he said. “We’re not married. I’ve been happily married to Emerson’s mother for over thirty years now. I’m no…oh, what do the kids call it today, Emmy? A cradle thief?” “Cradle robber, Dad,” Emerson muttered. “Yes,” Mr. Hart grunted. “That. No, I am just a loving father, whose wife was unable to make it tonight.” “Oh, I hope Carol’s alright,” Kara said, frowning. “She’s fine. Just got a new hip and doesn’t feel too much like moving around tonight, so Emmy’s stepped in.” He smiled fondly at his daughter, who continued to blush, embarrassed. Avery was mortified. She reached for her fork and speared a piece of lettuce and tomato, practically shoving both in her mouth as she avoided the eyes of everybody else at the table—all of whom had already moved on to other subjects. When she felt a hand land on her knee

under the table, Avery jumped, turning to Joel, who smiled, even as he remained focused on the conversation he was having with Mr. Marcus about…Avery had no idea what the conversation was even about. All she knew was the heat of Joel’s hand on her knee and the swipe of his thumb over the underside of her thigh. And then it was gone, replaced with cold air. Avery swallowed an involuntary shiver and took another bite of her salad, then reached for the glass of water in front of her, taking a long, slow sip as she attempted to tune into the conversation nearest to her. Tom and one of the older men—Mr. Jones or Mr. Johnson; she couldn’t quite remember, but the two were sitting next to each other— were debating on the merits of gesture-based technology. Tom was for it, because it was handicap-accessible and Mr. Jones-Johnson was against it, stating that it would be too easy to mess up a basic function and not know how to fix it. They went back and forth like that for several minutes, while Kara looked bored out of her skull and even rolled her eyes at Avery, who couldn’t help but chuckle. “While I see the merits in both,” she finally butted in, “I think we’re a long way off from technology that is purely controlled by hand movements. And, Tom, what about those that don’t even have the use of their hands? How does this help them?” “It doesn’t, I suppose,” Tom replied. “But there’s always mind-controlled technology.” “Now that is just absurd!” Jones-Johnson exclaimed, starting another argument. This time, Avery was rolling her eyes right along with Kara.

The conversations continued through their main course, with Avery observing more than taking part. Her ears tuned in all over the table (at which sat twelve people in total), picking up bits and pieces and offering input where it was warranted, and sometimes offering a bit of witty banter, at which the older gentlemen laughed. JR and Joel both sent her smiles from time to time, their eyes each holding something deeper. JR’s typically held heat or some kind of hunger that still sent shivers up Avery’s spine, but Joel’s… Whatever was in Joel Harper’s eyes caused heat to bloom all over Avery’s body and she wanted so desperately to know just how he was doing that. And why it seemed to stop the second his gaze turned elsewhere. It took a sip of the ridiculously expensive wine to keep the shivers from overcoming her body. And even that didn’t always help. When the main course was taken away, there was a sound like feedback and then a low voice filtered throughout the room: “Can I get everybody’s attention toward the dance floor?” Avery turned in her chair, her back to Joel as she turned her gaze toward the middle-aged man standing in the center of the room, a microphone in his hand. He gave all his spectators a charming, toothy grin, turning all around so that they could each see it. He landed back facing Avery’s table, his smile still wide and his face obviously touched up. Avery wondered how many other men and women in this room had gotten the same work done to make themselves look…pretty? Young? She had no idea what he was attempting to “fix” about himself, but he looked like a middle-aged Ken doll.

“Thank you all,” he said, “for joining us at tonight’s Charity Gala for the Disenfranchised.” “Most generic name ever,” Joel whispered in her ear and Avery was unable to hold in her laugh. She hid it with a cough into her napkin and turned to glare at Joel over her shoulder. His eyes twinkled with mischief. She turned back with a smile on her face. “Before the festivities and enthralling discussion, I’m sure, continue, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our donors who are joining us tonight. As you should all be very aware, this gala is exclusive to the many, many locally-anchored branches of several technology companies and their employees. Not only do these companies donate hundreds of millions to several of our sponsored charities, but they also provide a glamorous night out for their employees. So let’s give a hand to these companies as I read them out right now. Feel free to applaud as loud as you want when yours is called upon. You’ve worked hard and earned that right.” Avery applauded with everybody else as the man— whose name she must have missed—read from the list of names. She clapped especially hard when she heard Harper Images, especially when both Kara and Joel—the representatives of said company—stood and took turns bowing, which earned them a bout of laughter, as well. After reading off the company names, the host named each of the charities that were being supported and what they were all about. He then encouraged all of the guests to make small donations wherever they could and motioned toward the far corner of the room, where several donation boxes were set up. “Every penny counts towards a better tomorrow,” he said, finally. “Now, I’m

going to be quiet for a while as our DJ invites all of you out onto the dance floor for a little fun. Hit it, Mikey!” Music began to play as he walked off the dance floor, allowing couples to filter onto it and begin a waltz to the slow music that had begun to play. Avery turned back to sit properly in her chair and smile at Tom as he led his wife out onto the dance floor, their fingers interlocked as Kara rested her cheek on his shoulder. She glanced to the side, at Joel, praying that he would be the one to break the silence and invite her to dance. Instead, he got into another heated discussion with Mr. Hart, while Emerson sighed and gazed around the room. “Would you like to dance?” Avery jumped and turned to see JR standing next to her seat, grinning at her as he held out his hand. She stared at it for a long moment, hesitant, then turned to see if Joel was paying attention. She could see the tension in his jaw and the line of his shoulders, but he didn’t turn or say anything to either of them—though Avery didn’t quite know what she expected him to say, really. He was her boss, but he couldn’t really keep her from dancing with somebody at a gala. Could he? No, Avery decided, smiling back up at JR. He can’t. She slipped her hand into JR’s and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her to the dance floor. She felt her dress fluttering around and behind her legs and she only turned to look over her shoulder once, meeting Joel’s eyes. He was watching her, intently, as she followed JR. There was something in his eyes that she

couldn’t exactly put a name to. But it was dangerous.



Chapter Twelve She was floating. Her feet barely touched the floor as JR guided her in a waltz, his hands warm on her body, heat blooming where their skin met. His cologne invaded her senses, tickling her nostrils and causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. Avery wanted to bury her face into the crook of his neck and just stay there for a little while, but she resisted. Especially when she caught sight of Joel stepping out onto the floor with Emerson Hart’s hand held delicately in his. He met her eyes over JR’s shoulder and she saw that flash again. It was so quick that she felt as if she might have been imagining it, but he continued to hold her gaze until she broke it, looking back up at the line of JR’s stubbled jaw. Unlike Joel, he’d obviously seen no reason to give himself a clean shave before the night began. “So, Miss James,” JR began, quite suddenly. “Avery, please,” she corrected gently, pulling away to look him in the eye, even as they continued to dance. She no longer felt like she was floating, but there was still a fog surrounding them, like they were in a completely separate world from the rest of the room. “Avery.” He smiled at the name on his tongue. The way it fell off his lips sent a shiver down her spine. “Where are you from, originally?” “Illinois,” she informed him.

“Chicago?” “Greenfield.” JR nodded like he knew exactly where that was, but Avery knew that he didn’t. That was why she had left. “Where are you from?” “Originally? Spain. I was born in a small town near Madrid, but my parents moved us to the U.S. when I was four. I grew up in Miami.” “So what led you to New York City?” Avery asked. JR spun her out a little and she laughed. “That’s not part of the waltz, is it?” “I’m not sure,” he replied. “But it’s fun, eh?” He tugged her back against his chest and Avery felt his hand fall a little lower on her waist. They continued to dance and he took a breath before answering her question. “When I started thinking about university, I wondered what I might do, career-wise, you know? I liked machines and I was good with my hands.” As if to prove a point, Avery felt his fingers clench at her waist and she held back a gasp at the pressure. JR smirked. “But I’ve never been good at school,” he continued. “I didn’t like staying still for too long. I liked to move, to be active.” He shrugged. “New York City seemed like the perfect compromise.” “How so?” Avery asked, looking up to meet his beautiful brown gaze. “Nothing is ever still here,” JR said. “You can have a moment of perfect stillness, all on your own, but at any given moment there’s something happening just ten feet away from where you stand. Something big. I loved that. So I packed my bags and I came up to New York. I didn’t even come for school, though my parents thought that I’d

gotten a scholarship to NYU.” He shook his head. “Biggest mistake of my life was lying to them about that.” A shadow came over his face, but it was gone before Avery could ask him to expand. Instead, he gave her a wide, charming grin. “How about you?” he asked. “What brings you to New York?” Avery shrugged. “I’ve been out of college a year and I always wanted to see the city. I saved up for a full year to come here.” “For work?” “I hoped so,” she admitted. “Otherwise, it would just have been a month-long vacation; a temporary escape.” “Lucky, then, that Mr. Harper would give you a job, yes?” “Luck had very little to do with it,” Avery replied. “I worked hard for my position. I earned it. Mr. Harper just gave me the opportunity.” “I can see that,” JR said, pausing quite suddenly. Avery stumbled slightly, only to be caught in his tightened embrace, keeping her steady as one of his hands cupped her jaw, meeting her eyes with his. “There’s a brilliance in those eyes of yours,” he said, his voice soft, breath caressing her cheek. “So much knowledge in one so young.” He voice was filled with reverence. “So much beauty…” Avery could feel his lips inch closer, the tips of his nose brushing hers as her eyes closed, automatically. His breath washed over hers and she inhaled sharply… But then he was pulling away as a sudden cleared throat interrupted them. Avery’s eyes popped open as she felt JR’s hand leave the small of her back and she

turned her head in the direction he was now facing, finding Joel standing before them. The line of his shoulders was straight, his chin raised as he shared a look with JR. His smile was wide, but she could tell that it wasn’t genuine; it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Mind if I cut in?” It was posed as a question, but Avery knew that JR had no real say in the matter. He must have known it, as well. “Of course, friend,” he said, turning back to Avery. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. Heat bloomed where the skin brushed and Avery felt her lips curve in a tiny grin. “It was a pleasure, Miss James,” JR said, smiling openly back at her. “Until next time.” He let go of her hand and turned to Joel. “Mr. Harper.” “Antonio,” Joel replied, shortly. JR grinned at them both as he swaggered away. Avery watched his back for a moment before turning to Joel, whose eyes were focused solely on her. She felt as if she were under a microscope, his entire body flaring up as he reached for her hand. “May I have this dance?” Joel asked, softly. For a moment, Avery considered saying no. She knew Joel enough to know that, while his pride would no doubt be hurt by it, he wouldn’t force her to dance. But there was something in his eyes, still, and she wanted desperately to figure out what it was. Also, in truth, she did have the desire to be wrapped in his embrace. She wondered if it would be like it was with JR; if she would feel as if she was floating… Finally, she slipped her fingers into his, but she painted

on a displeased frown as he pulled her in, situating one wide, thick-fingered hand on her back as he held her against his chest and they started to sway to the music. “That was very rude,” Avery said, after a long moment. “Interrupting like that.” “I’m sorry if I’d rather one of my employees not end up on Page Six,” Joel replied, softly. “Especially when she’s supposed to be my date for the evening.” “Page Six?” Avery asked. “Photographers everywhere,” Joel reminded her. “One of them had his camera trained on you before I stepped in. You’re welcome.” “Oh,” Avery said, feeling heat bloom in her cheeks; embarrassment once again spread over her. “Thank you.” She swallowed thickly as she felt the flex of his fingers on her waist. “You still could have been nicer to JR.” “I was as polite to Antonio as is warranted,” Joel retorted. “You should be more cautious of him; the man’s a snake.” “JR?” Avery scoffed, pulling back to look at Joel’s face. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” His face was like stone. “You’re not.” She shook her head. “Look, I know he’s charming, but he couldn’t possibly be that bad.” “Oh, really?” Joel chuckled. “Has he brought up Madrid yet?” Avery’s eyes widened. “Y-yes,” she said. “That’s…he said he was born in Spain, near Madrid.” “Has he invited you there yet? On holiday?” He scoffed

the word out with a roll of his eyes. Avery furrowed her brow. “What if he did?” she asked. “What’s so wrong with Madrid?” “Nothing’s wrong with Madrid,” Joel said. “But you’d never make it there.” “Why not?” “Because no relationship of Antonio Juarez-Ramos has ever lasted longer than a breath mint.” He took a deep breath. “He promises trips to Spain, France and Italy…all to get your hopes up, to make you feel special. Then, after he’s had his way with you, he’ll toss you away, call you crazy.” Avery’s eyes widened at that revelation. “You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.” “I’ve seen him do it,” Joel admitted. “Several times.” He looked away. “I’ve done it, myself, a couple times.” “What?” Avery hissed, pulling away. Joel’s grip remained firm on her back, keeping her from moving too far. “It was in college,” he informed her. “I was young and stupid and I trusted JR, implicitly, when he said there was no harm done. We were just having a little fun.” “What changed your mind?” Avery asked, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, disapproval etched in her face. “That’s personal,” Joel said. “But you can trust that I learned my lesson.” “How?” Avery asked. “How can I trust that? I barely

know you, Mr. Harper.” “You know me well enough,” he retorted. “I would never do something like that now. Not to you.” He paused, his eyes searching hers, before glancing away. “Not to any woman.” They continued to dance in silence for a while as Avery absorbed what he’d just said. The admittance of wrongdoing in his past was the first real piece of Joel’s past that she’d gotten that wasn’t about his mother or the company he’d inherited from her sickness. Still, she didn’t know if trust was something she was ready to give him, implicitly. “Ask me,” Joel said, making her jump slightly in his arms. “Hmm?” Avery asked, looking back up at him. “Ask you what?” “Anything,” he said. “One thing. I’ll answer honestly.” “How will I know that you’re telling the truth?” “You’ll just have to trust me.” Avery turned to look Joel in the eye, finding only openness there in the blue depths. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, wracking her brain for a moment, before opening her mouth. “If I asked you to take me to Madrid,” she asked, “would you?” It was completely unprofessional, she knew, and she half-feared that he would dismiss her right then and there for that reason, alone, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor, alone. The other half feared that he would say yes. She had no idea what she feared most. Joel was silent for a long time and Avery could feel her

heart beating in her ears as she waited, with bated breath, for him to say something—anything. Finally, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly and opened his mouth. “I’d take you anywhere you wanted me to, Avery,” he said. “Anywhere in the world.” He paused, one corner of his lips curving upward in a lopsided grin. “Anywhere except Madrid. Antonio spends far too much time there for my liking.” Before she could stop herself, Avery snorted out a laugh and buried her nose in the lapel of Joel’s suit jacket. Joel’s hand let go of her hand and for a moment her heart seized in her chest as she feared he might move away from her, but then his hand joined the other one on the base of her spine, pressing her close to him. Avery sighed as she relaxed into the circle of his arms. Joel’s embrace felt infinitely better than JR’s had. There was something comforting about the solid wall of his chest beneath her ear, the heat of his breath against her ear, and the stretch of his fingers as they attempted to span the entirety of her bare back. Wrapping her own arms around his neck, interlocking her fingers at his nape, Avery took a deep breath as she felt herself sink against him, for just a moment longer. The moment was broken when the music suddenly sped up and the DJ proclaimed, “Now for a few party favorites! If you haven’t had your moment on the dance floor, come on down for the Cha Cha Slide!” Avery and Joel separated and she immediately felt the loss as his warmth was replaced by cool air. Her cheeks were hot as she avoided his eyes, looking instead at the floor, where her toes peeked out at her from the silver heels. Joel cleared his throat and she glanced up to see

him smiling down at her, that boyish sparkle back in his eyes, the dimples in his cheeks deep as ever. He held out his hand. “Thank you for the dance, Mis—Avery.” Her blush deepened, but she placed her hand in his, her heart stuttering as his fingers tightened around hers, before he raised it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the tips of her fingers and she felt an involuntary smile bloom on her lips. “Until next time.” It was a promise, sincere on his lips, and Avery felt the anticipation of “next time” spread over her completely as he let go of her hand and moved away, smiling handsomely at her, before he turned and made his way off the dance floor.



Chapter Thirteen If you’d asked Avery where she expected to be six months ago, she probably would have said something along the lines of, “Somewhere on a farm, pregnant with my first child.” That was the kind of hope she’d had in her future. Well, okay, maybe it didn’t look that bleak—she at least expected to have a job somewhere other than Greenfield; maybe at an Apple Store, where she could be close to technology and learn how it was made—but she would never, not in a million years, have pictured herself where she currently was. And that was talking to Ken Naoki, CEO of a major Japanese technology company, which specialized in gaming systems and had recently moved on to developing a brand of computers that would support their video games (none of which really interested Avery, as she didn’t know much about video games, but the man himself was somewhat of a legend in their inner circle). He was telling her all about his new designs and the soon-to-be-released video games that would be compatible with the system, and she was half-listening as she sipped a martini, keeping her spine straight as she nodded at the right times, though her eyes were still scanning the floor, looking for a certain someone she had lost sight of a while ago. A few other men had gathered around her and Ken, asking him questions that she wouldn’t have even thought of and their discussion got more and more

heated as time went on. It soon became apparent that her input was no longer necessary, but Avery stood there, anyway, watching the men bicker and banter with amusement sparkling in her eyes. After a few moments, the buzz died down and her gaze made another sweep through the room, finally pausing on Joel Harper’s familiar blue-gray eyes. He was talking and laughing with a few white-haired businessmen and women, clinking glasses with the portly man next to him. The man clapped a hand on Joel’s back, his face going red with the force of his laughter. Joel rolled his eyes and his gaze met Avery’s in the process. His grin widened, and his dimples appeared as he lifted his glass subtly in her direction, before taking a long sip as he turned back to his companions. Avery continued to watch him. In a room filled with hundreds of people, Joel stood out somehow. It wasn’t just his size or his youth—though that was, undoubtedly, a big part of it—but rather his presence. He could fill a room with his charm all on its own. He was intimidating, really, but in a way that couldn’t be explained in any fathomable way—not that Avery could think of, anyway. Just watching him now, she could find no words to accurately explain Joel Harper or what he did to her. “What do you think, Miss James?” Avery jumped at the sound of her name and turned to blink up at Mr. Naoki, clueless as to what they were talking about. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must have spaced out. What are we talking about?” Ken gave her a knowing smile and opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly there was a collective gasp all

around the room and his mouth shut as he looked around, frowning as he followed the gaze of dozens of others. Avery followed his gaze, as well, and her eyes fell on a regal-looking older woman with short white hair, draped in an oddly familiar red dress. “Who’s that?” she whispered to the man standing nearest to her, whose mouth was gaping open, his eyes glued to the woman. “Elizabeth,” he breathed. “Elizabeth? Elizabeth who?” “Harper,” the man breathed, his eyes still locked. Avery’s face mirrored his then as she, too, gaped at Mrs. Elizabeth Harper as the older, statuesque woman sauntered into the banquet hall, wearing a dress that she had tried on just a few weeks prior. For a woman of a certain age, the dress didn’t look nearly as inappropriate on her as one might think it would. Mrs. Harper was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women that Avery had ever seen. She had grace and poise and confidence; all of which shrouded her as she made her way towards her children. Kara and Joel had met in the middle and had begun walking towards her. Elizabeth opened her arms for them, giving them a wide, toothy grin. “My darlings!” she exclaimed. Avery’s eyes flitted between the three of them; saw the worry etched in Kara’s eyes and the confusion in Joel’s. Elizabeth just continued to smile as they approached, reaching out to pull them both in.

Kara was the first to embrace her, whispering into her ear. The room was so quiet that Avery could almost make out what she was saying. Almost. But not quite. In response, Elizabeth simply laughed, though she gave her daughter no real answers. Instead, she turned to her son, standing several inches shorter, even in the risqué heels she’d chosen to complete the ensemble. “My baby boy!” she exclaimed, pulling him in by the lapels and tugging him downward so that she could place big, smacking kisses on each of his flushed cheeks. Joel let her, for a moment, before he, too, pulled away to look her in the eyes. His were furrowed. “What are you doing here, Mother?” Avery could hear his whisper from across the room, loud and clear, as if he were speaking right into her ear. It was as if even the sound of breathing had stopped. “You should be at home, in bed; resting.” Elizabeth Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joel,” she huffed. “I’m old; not an invalid.” She spoke at full volume, looking all around to flag down a waiter. “Gin and tonic, please?” she requested of a young man a few feet away. The man was paralyzed for an instant, looking between the two Harpers, before he nodded and scurried off to, presumably, procure her drink. “Mother, you’re ill,” Kara said, placing her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I feel just fine,” Elizabeth brushed off, glancing over Kara’s cheek and beaming at a familiar face. “Is that Franklin Beckett? Oh, I haven’t seen him in years!” She started toward the wide-eyed, white-faced man (who

looked as if he’d just seen a ghost), but Joel grabbed for her hand as he saw the open back of her dress. “Mother! Where did you get this thing?” he hissed, removing his own coat and attempting to place it over her shoulders. Elizabeth shrugged the coat off, turning to glare at her son. “A good friend gave it to me, if you must know!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in both volume and urgency. “Now, get your hands off of me! I’m not a child! You’re the child! I’m your mother!” “Mom, please,” Kara said, stepping forward to help Joel as they attempted to wrestle Elizabeth back in the direction of the door. But she began to struggle, screeching as Joel pressed her arms to her sides and Kara tried to wrap her in the jacket. She kicked when Joel finally just picked her up and began to carry her, bridalstyle. She growled as she suddenly sunk her teeth into one of his arms and Joel let out a loud, pained grunt. Kara tried to tear her away, but he waved her off. “Go get help,” he said. “I’ve got it covered.” Kara looked hesitant to leave him. “Go!” Joel barked and she nodded, scurrying off, holding the skirt of her dress so as not to trip. “Mother, let go,” Joel said in a warning tone. Elizabeth just growled louder and stayed latched on as he attempted to shake her off. Finally, she seemed to grow bored and let go, her mouth bloody where it had held onto her son’s arm. Blood bloomed underneath the deep blue of his shirt, but Joel ignored it in favor of wrapping his jacket over his mother’s top half, careful to keep any of his appendages away from her mouth, even as she screamed and

continued to thrash. Her words had become nonsensical and Avery could tell that Joel was aware of every set of eyes on his back, but he didn’t care. His only focus was on his mother and getting her back to the safety of her apartment. She wanted nothing more than to step in and help, but she could think of nothing at that moment. All she could do was watch as he struggled to keep hold of her, as big and strong as he was. It wasn’t until several security guards had approached to help that they finally got control of the situation. Two of them relieved Joel of his mother’s top half while the other two grabbed at her feet and carried her, as a group, out of the hall. Kara followed along in worry. Before she exited, she turned back to her brother, but Joel was already waving her off, storming off in the opposite direction. Avery watched this all unfold in the time it took for the young waiter to return with Elizabeth’s drink on his tray. The room remained silent for several long moments after their departure, before suddenly the DJ’s voice came over the speakers. “Okay, then!” his voice boomed. “Let’s get this party back on track! Come to the dance floor for the Electric Slide!” Avery stood there, dumbfounded, wondering what the hell had just happened. How could they possibly…? After what just happened, how could they be so calm? Did this happen often? Had Elizabeth Harper shown up before, at galas and charities, and created such a scene? Did others? Were they so used to these kind of scenes that it could be glossed over so effortlessly by all in attendance? What kind of world had she entered?

She watched as couples returned to the dance floor. She watched as small groups of men and women continued to talk. She watched as the DJ spun his discs and took requests and encouraged all of the guests littering the room to throw their hands up and to dance like there was no tomorrow. She watched as, slowly, Mrs. Harper’s scene seemed to seep out of the room, leaving her confused and desperate for answers. She wanted to ask around; wanted to ask if this was a common occurrence with Elizabeth Harper. She wanted to know if this was something that Joel and Kara had to deal with on every night they had a night out. If this was a constant worry in the back of their minds. If they had to make “special arrangements” to avoid situations like this. Arrangements that had obviously failed tonight. She just had so many questions. But first she had to find Joel. Returning to her table, she grabbed her clutch and smiled politely at the others sitting there, before heading off in the direction she’d seen him go. The doors were towards the back of the room and as soon as she walked through them, Avery came to a hallway, silent except for a few faraway voices and the sound of cars honking. To the left, she saw the door to the kitchen and a propped open door, labelled ‘Exit’, where one of the waiters was puffing on a cigarette in the adjacent alley. To the right, there were several clearly labelled bathrooms and a staircase at the end of the hall. The sign above it told her that it led to the terrace on the second floor of the hall. Checking the bathroom first, Avery found it unoccupied and deduced that he could have only gone way.

Or, at least, she hoped he hadn’t just snuck out the back and left her to fend for herself. He wouldn’t do that, a soft voice, which sounded too much like her mother’s, said in the back of her mind. You have to start trusting in him, Avery. Oh god, did she want to. Avery took a deep breath as she started toward the stairs, unsure of what she would find when she got to the top. ***** Joel was leaning against the wall overlooking the city when Avery made it to the terrace. She could see his profile and the way the lights illuminated half of his face, glittering against the lenses of his glasses. His lips were pressed in a firm line and his brow was furrowed as he watched the cars below race by, listened to them honk at pedestrians as they crossed and yelled back. She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and he took deep, calming breaths. One hand raised to stroke through his hair, mussing it. Avery frowned at him, taking a few silent steps forward, attempting to make no sound. “I’m not some easily frightened animal, Avery.” Joel’s voice was like a gunshot; sharp and sudden, causing her to stiffen slightly in shock. “I’m not so easily spooked by loud noises.” “I just wanted to see how you were doing,” she admitted. “After…” she waved her arm, though she doubted he could see the gesture, “all that. Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Joel interrupted. “I’m—I’ve dealt with her before.” “So this is a usual occurrence for you, then?” Avery asked. “Every few months, my mother has a lucid moment,” Joel informed her. “It doesn’t last long; never more than a few hours. But she’s always able to sneak away from her nurses. Always gets out of the apartment, convinced that there’s somewhere she just has to be. It usually happens when there’s a party to attend to.” He scoffed. “She always did love parties.” “Has she…was she always violent?” Avery asked, stepping forward until she was leaning against the wall right next to him. “Never in my life,” Joel said, his voice firm. “She never even spanked us. Mother was the kind of parent that believed isolation was the worst form of punishment for a child.” “Isolation?” “An hour alone in an empty room in our house, with no toys or music or anybody to talk to. Only when we’d done something bad or received a bad grade when she knew we were capable of better work. It was like torture.” He took a deep breath. “But she never raised her hand to us. Not once. Not until…recently.” He motioned to his nowsaturated sleeve. Avery gasped and reached for it, pausing just before her fingers brushed over the covered wound. “May I?” she asked. Joel nodded and held his arm out toward her. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist,

carefully undoing the button of his shirt and rolling the sleeve up as gently as she could. Joel didn’t show any signs of pain, but she reasoned that he could still be in shock. The pain probably hadn’t hit him as quickly as the fact that it was his mother that had been the cause of it. Still, Avery’s fingers were swift and didn’t press too hard at the wound. It wasn’t as deep as she’d been expecting, going off the amount of blood that was now surrounding it, but Elizabeth Harper had left behind an almost impressive gash. It would need to be cleaned, Avery decided. And wrapped. “Do you know where we could find a first aid kit?” she asked Joel. “The kitchen, probably,” he replied. “But I don’t…I’m fine, Avery. I don’t need—” “Yes, you do,” she said, firmly. “And you need a new shirt, as well.” She sighed. “Come on.” Taking his hand, she began to tug him back towards the stairs. Joel’s hesitance stopped her in her tracks. “What about the gala?” he asked. “Should we be skipping out?” “After that display?” Avery scoffed. “I don’t think anybody would blame you, Joel. But, really, it would only take a few minutes. I need to wrap that bite and you… you should probably find a new shirt to wear. We could be back before anybody even realizes we’ve left.” Joel considered her for a long moment, before nodding. “Okay,” he said. “I trust you. Let’s go.” There was a stutter in her chest at his words and Avery

swallowed thickly, smiling up at him as she wrapped her fingers more tightly around his, tugging him along after her as she continued toward the stairs.



Chapter Fourteen It wasn’t hard to sneak out through the back. There was nobody but the single, smoking waiter to witness their exit and Joel slipped him a fifty to keep his mouth shut (though Avery doubted he cared enough to say anything, anyway). At the end of the alley, they hailed a cab and Joel held the back of Avery’s dress to keep it from becoming filthy. “Lila would kill me,” he murmured. Avery debated on whether or not she should tell him where his mother had likely gotten the dress she’d been wearing. As they slid into the backseat of the cab and she caught another glance at the bloody bite mark on his arm, she decided that he already had enough to deal with as it was, so she was silent. The trip to their apartment building went by much more quickly than their earlier ride to the banquet hall and Avery was thankful. Joel’s hand was warm around hers and, though he tried to hide it, she could see his barely restrained winces out the corner of her eye. He was in pain and she couldn’t say she blamed him. Joel barely waited for the car to slow down before he was throwing the door open and stepping out onto the curb, tugging Avery out with him. He tossed a few bills at the complaining driver before slamming the door and practically dragging her inside, his eyes flitting all around, as if searching for anybody. At Avery’s questioning glance, he explained: “Paparazzi.”

Avery nodded in understanding as she allowed him to guide her inside, past the enquiring doorman, and into the elevator, where he pressed the button for her floor. Their fingers stayed interlocked all the way up and it was Avery who gently led Joel down the hall to her studio, reaching for her clutch, which had been tucked under her arm this entire time, and pulling out her key. Her hand was out of his for only as long as it took to unlock the door, but then she was grasping at his fingers again as she pushed it open and guided him inside. Joel had just enough time to kick the door behind them before Avery’s hand was wrapped around him as she pulled him—with impressive strength, he might add—to sit on the couch, instructing him to hold his arm above his head. It wasn’t bleeding nearly as badly as it initially had (in fact, it had almost stopped, altogether) but she was insistent about him keeping it elevated, above his heart, while she grabbed the fully stocked First Aid Kit from under her kitchen sink. Avery had only used it three times in the month and a half since she’d started living there. Twice, she had cut herself while cooking, and had made good use of the Neosporin and small, nude band aids, wrapping them easily around her afflicted fingers, before tossing the kit back in its place. A third time, she’d used the burn ointment to soothe a small scorch on the side of her hand from the time it had brushed against the hot griddle. Other than that, it remained relatively untouched and she easily located some gauze, bandages, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, carrying the haul back to Joel, who still held his arm awkwardly above his head, his eyes roaming the apartment.

“Not one for decorating, huh?” he asked as Avery perched herself on the coffee table in front of him. The studio was more or less as bare as when she’d first arrived. There was only the occasional article of clothing, tossed haphazardly on various surfaces around the room. She hadn’t bothered to buy any kind of personalized furniture. Avery shrugged, soaking a wad of gauze with the alcohol and carefully dabbing at the bite mark on his arm. Joel let out a low growl of pain. “Sorry,” she murmured, then cleared her throat. “I figured I wouldn’t be here for that long,” she admitted. “So there’s no real need for me to start decorating until I’m in my own place, you know?” Joel nodded in understanding. “But no photographs?” he asked, shivering as Avery gently wiped the dried blood from around his wound. “Not even of your family?” “My only family is my father,” Avery told him. “And I only have one photo of him in my wallet.” “Can I see it?” Avery paused at that, her eyes widening as she looked down at Joel. Her hand was paused hovering above his arm, the gauze clenched in her hand. “Sorry,” Joel said, “was that too—” “No,” Avery said, shaking her head and focusing her attention on the bite mark. “I just, uh, don’t know why you’d want to see it. It’s just a grainy photograph. It was taken about twenty years ago, when my mother was still…” She trailed off, shaking her head again. Joel could see something shining in her eyes; tears. He’d caused her to cry.

“Hey,” he said, using his good arm to still her by clasping his hand around her wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Avery took a deep, shuddering breath. “You didn’t,” she lied. “I just…would rather not do this right now, if you don’t mind. Take off your shirt.” “What?” He was thrown by the sudden change in subject. “I don’t want the bandages to get bloody if you take it off later,” Avery explained, pointing to the saturated spot on his sleeve. “Right,” Joel said, taking a deep breath as he reached for the buttons on his waistcoat. He hissed when the clenching of his forearm muscles sent pain rippling up his arm and Avery reached out, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “I’ll do it,” she offered, softly, not meeting his eyes as she reached for the first button. Joel nodded, moving his injured arm out of the way as he watched her fingers fumble for a few moments until he could feel the tight vest loosen around his midsection. Avery parted the material and carefully helped him slip his arms free. She folded the article of clothing and set it aside, then reached back for the buttons on Joel’s shirt, swallowing thickly at the skin she revealed as each one released. She fought to keep her breathing even as her fingers brushed bare skin and then a smattering of hair across his chest that trailed below the belt. Her fingers clenched into fists before she reached down to extract the bottom of his shirt from his suit pants and undid the last button, then reached back up to loosen his tie. She slipped the

silk noose up and over his head, setting it aside, before helping him carefully extract his arms from the shirt. She tried to ignore the muscles that clenched and jumped everywhere their skin brushed, but she was quickly becoming short of breath at the sight. “I don’t think you’ll be able to salvage this,” Avery said, trying to keep her voice even. Besides the blood soaking the expensive fabric, there were also holes where Mrs. Harper’s teeth had torn through. Blood was hard enough to get out of clothing as it was, but to sew up small holes…it wouldn’t even be worth it, really. “I wasn’t going to try to,” Joel informed her. “I have more like that upstairs, anyway. I’ll just change into one of them.” Avery couldn’t help but mourn the loss of such a beautiful piece of clothing, though; it perfectly matched the deep, icy blue of Joel’s eyes. Ignoring her personal feelings about a shirt, she reached for the bandages on the table next to her and unwrapped them, motioning for Joel to hold out his arm. She made quick work of that part, wrapping the white cloth around the wound thrice and tying it tightly to stem the flow, before gently pushing Joel’s arm back toward him. “If you have bandages in your apartment,” she said, “you should change those in a couple of hours. It’s not deep enough for stitches, thank god, but it’s still bleeding a little bit. Make sure you don’t lose the tie, either.” Joel nodded, giving her a small smirk. “Thank you, Nurse,” he said, teasingly. Avery snorted and rolled her

eyes, looking down at the remaining bandages in her hand, twisting them nervously between her fingers. When Joel’s large hand covered hers, she jumped slightly and looked up to see him staring meaningfully into her eyes. “Seriously, though,” he said. “Thank you, Avery; for everything.” His voice was deep and genuine and so were his eyes. Avery could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and then she was staring at his lips, which parted slightly under her heated gaze. When her eyes returned to look into his, she found them flickering down to her mouth, before returning to stare deeply into hers. She felt a flush spread over her entire body. Before either of them knew what was happening, Avery was straddling Joel’s lap, grinding down as her lips pressed hotly against his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip as his responded in kind. Joel’s hands traveled the length of her body, stroking heat into her bare spine and making her skin sizzle and sing with every single brush of his fingers. She moaned into his mouth as he buried one of his hands into the cascading auburn curls and tugged, gently, pulling her lips away from his. For a split second, Avery was paralyzed. What had she just done? How could she possibly repair the damage? He was her…her boss! And she, his assistant. Would he just throw her off of him, yell at her for being unprofessional? Or would he simply walk out, never to speak of this again? She couldn’t imagine which was worse. The thoughts all flew from her mind the second his lips made contact with the pulse on her neck and then Avery was moaning, her hands flying up to scrape her fingers through his hair, pulling him impossibly close to her, even

as her hips continued to move against him. If she were thinking more clearly, she might have been embarrassed by the desperate movements, but her mind was blissfully devoid of any thought other than the ecstasy Joel’s hands and teeth and tongue and everything sent coursing through her bloodstream. She felt simultaneously as if she were suffocating and breathing for the first time in her life. It was exhilarating. And she was still wearing all of her clothes. “Not for long,” she felt Joel grunt against the sensitive skin of her neck. It was with a start that Avery realized she’d voiced that particular thought out loud. Not that she really cared much; not when she felt Joel’s deft fingers pull at the tie at the back of her neck, loosening it enough so that the soft material fell, stroking over her shoulders and catching on the swell of her breasts. A safety feature, Bethany had told her, in case the tie accidentally came loose, so she wouldn’t end up flashing anybody. It was a feature that Avery no longer found so endearing. She wanted this dress off. She wanted to feel Joel’s bare skin against hers; wanted to feel the spattering of hair on his chest as it stroked against her breasts. She wanted to remove every last barrier between them until he was all she could feel, unencumbered by clothing. But it was all she could do to remain upright as Joel’s mouth continued to wreak havoc on her body, his lips leaving a trail of heat and blooming pink nips and bites as he moved down her collarbone, growling low in the back of his throat as he reached the space between her breasts, nuzzling his nose against the swell. Avery moaned and pressed her chest into his mouth, begging

without words. Joel didn’t need any more encouragement as he used his teeth to tug at the tight bodice, loosening it so that the material fell away from Avery’s breasts, baring them to the intensity of his gaze. Avery’s breath was ragged as she looked down her body at Joel, watching, drymouthed as he licked his lips, before his gaze met hers and she could swear that his pupils dilated for a splitsecond before he opened his mouth around one hardened pink peak. She let out a shuddering gasp as she felt Joel suck on her nipple, her back arching to give and receive more, her hands fluttering at the back of his neck, his shoulders, over his mussed hair, as she tugged and scratched and clawed at him, biting her own lip to keep from crying out. Joel’s mouth was unrelenting on her, his mouth like a suction, his teeth tugging gently and sending shockwaves all throughout her body. Avery’s fists clenched in his hair and she felt the vibration of his growl as her body arched closer. “Please,” she whimpered, though she knew not what she was asking for. Joel, however, seemed to know exactly what she wanted as he released one breast and moved to the other one, laving it with the same attention as he moved his hips against hers. His uninjured arm came to bind around her waist, his large hand cupping underneath her ass as he lifted them both up. Avery’s legs automatically tightened around his waist, keeping herself from falling with her arms wrapped around his head, keeping his face firmly planted in between her breasts. With a surprisingly familiar ease, Joel carried Avery across the apartment, pressing her against the wall

between the kitchen and bedroom, his hands tugging her dress down and over her hips, working feverishly to divest her of it even as his mouth resumed its suction on her breast. Avery whimpered and moaned, letting out aggravated sighs when she couldn’t reach down to do the same with his pants. She attempted to slip her toes under the material at his back, but could get no purchase when she realized that she still had her heels on. She let out a long, guttural groan at that and felt Joel smile around her nipple. Infuriating bastard. She growled low in her throat and felt him moan in response against her skin, before pulling away and kissing his way down her chest and stomach. Avery shuddered and pressed her hands to his broad shoulders, holding herself steady as she felt her dress finally come loose and begin to roll down her thighs. They stopped halfway when Joel focused his attention on the apex of her thighs, instead. He pressed his nose against her cloth-covered center, breathing her in through the silky material of her thong and Avery shivered, her nails digging into his shoulders. Joel glanced up to meet her eyes and grinned up at her, before returning his attention to the place between her legs, opening his mouth over her for a long moment. He allowed his hot tongue to press against her, helping to soak her already damp panties completely through, before his tongue was gone and leaving her wanting. Joel made quick work of her dress after that, using his top half to press her body to the wall as he pushed the material off her legs until it was pooled at the ground at his feet, then reached for his own belt and zipper, pressing his lips to the curve of Avery’s neck as he pushed his pants down over his hips, leaving his briefs

on. As the fabric pooled at his feet, Joel pushed away from the wall, kicking them off deftly as he carried Avery the rest of the way to her bed, while she attacked his neck and jaw, moaning breathily into his ear, whispering his name and delighting in his returning growls. Avery heard the whoosh of the curtain that separated the bed from the main room at her back as she felt the chill of wind it created. Her kisses slowed as she felt Joel place her gently down on the bed. Her lips left him with a small sucking sound and she watched him swallow thickly as he backed away and stared at her, his eyes dark as his gaze scanned over the entirety of hers, taking in her bare, heaving chest and the reddening bites that now stood out against her pink skin and the purplish bruises on her throat where his teeth and lips had scraped and sucked. She left him breathless. And, from the looks of it, he had a similar effect on her. Avery was leaning back on her hands, her chest heaving as her eyes stayed glued on his chest, her teeth sinking into the swell of her bottom lip. Her makeup was long past smudged, her lipstick almost completely rubbed off and the eyeliner creating dark rings around her eyes. Her hair was no longer neat, but was now wild around her head, still shimmering with what looked like glitter. He grinned darkly at her, leaning in with his hands planted on either side of her waist. He caught the skin of her bottom lip with a nip of his teeth and she whimpered, reaching up to cup his jaw. Joel pulled away, still grinning, and reached down, placing his hand boldly over the crotch of her panties. “Were these expensive?” he husked, searching her foggy eyes.

“Hmm?” Her mind was muddled, her focus solely on the fingers brushing over her heat. When the question finally registered in her brain, she shook her head. Joel nodded, immediately wrapping his fingers around the triangle over her center and tearing it away with a resounding snap. Avery gasped, her hands clenching around the sheets beneath her. “Oh god,” she breathed. Joel chuckled. “I’ll buy you more,” he promised, licking a stripe up her neck as his fingers stroked through the wetness pooling between her thighs. “In every color.” “What’s the point?” Avery gasped. “You’ll just rip them off again, won’t you?” “That is the point,” he husked, before pressing his lips to hers, pushing her up the bed as he climbed up. Avery heard the distant sound of Joel’s shoes popping off of his feet as if they’d come off hundreds of feet away, rather than just at the end of her bed. She paid them little attention as Joel’s fingers continued to tease at her opening, causing her to emit tiny whimpers into his mouth as he stroked her tongue with his, mimicking the motion of his digits slowly working their way inside of her. “You’re so wet,” he hummed in appreciation. “For you,” Avery gasped. “Only for you.” Joel let out a low, pleased growl as he swiped his thumb over her clit, rewarding Avery for her words and causing her to arch against him, begging for more as her lips reached for his. Joel backed away, grinning wolfishly as he moved down her body, once again. This time, instead of placing sucking kisses along the way, he simply pressed his lips to her skin and allowed them to scorch a line down to where she wanted him.

Avery let out a low moan as Joel opened his mouth over her and allowed his tongue to sweep over her, finally, without the barrier of clothing. Her heels dug into the mattress as she canted her hips upwards, pressing into his mouth. Joel chuckled and raised his head away from her, slinging his uninjured arm over her hips to keep her anchored, even as he shrugged his shoulders underneath her knees, allowing her feet to press against his back. “Wait,” Avery breathed. “My heels. They’ll hurt you.” Joel grinned against the inside of her thigh, then turned to meet her eyes. “I like it,” he husked and Avery whimpered, her head falling back as she felt a familiar tightening in the pit of her stomach. “Fuck,” she breathed, pressing a hand over her face as the other returned to its rightful place in his hair, combing through the mussed locks. Joel chuckled and returned his attention to her center, tonguing her folds and lapping at the wetness there, while Avery’s hips continued to move of their own accord. The coil in her stomach tightened with every swipe of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth over her clit, and every moan that vibrated through her body. Avery’s heels pressed into the skin of his back, causing Joel to emit growls and press his mouth more firmly to her, licking her vigorously and with more and more fervor. Avery practically cried with relief as her first orgasm finally washed over her, Joel’s name tripping from her lips like a prayer. Joel’s tongue stroked her through it, maximizing her pleasure until he felt the tell-tale tug of Avery’s hand in his hair, pulling him away. Her legs fell open on the bed as he extracted himself

from underneath them, reaching down for her feet. He extracted first one, and then the other shoe, kissing away the deep pink marks they left from the tops of her feet to just above her ankles. Then he kissed back up her body, his lips gentle this time as he inched his way towards her lips, attaching his mouth to hers with a reverence, softly stroking them as his hand buried itself in Avery’s hair. He could feel her sated smile against his lips, even as she wrapped her long, legs around his waist. Before he knew what was happening, Joel’s back hit the mattress and he was staring up at Avery’s bright smile as she loomed above him. She was blurry and he suddenly realized that his glasses had come askew. He reached to correct them, but Avery lightly slapped his hands away and removed them, placing them on the side table as she leaned down, pressing her lips back to his. She kissed him for a long while, slowly and sensually, the length of her body resting along his, her legs parted over his hips, where her wetness soaked through the material of his briefs. They were tented now and provided a delicious friction as she ground her center against him. Joel growled into Avery’s mouth and reached up, stilling her hips with the clench of his fingers. “Are you trying to kill me?” he demanded. Avery grinned, nuzzling her nose against his. “Maybe,” she purred, pressing another kiss to his bottom lip. Joel growled again, turning to press Avery back into the mattress, her hair fanning around her head like an auburn halo. Before she could so much as gasp, his fingers were inside her again; two this time. Avery whimpered and wriggled, her nails digging into the base of his spine as he pumped the thick digits in and out of

her. She cried out when he curled them and he hit a spot so deep inside of her that she’d had no idea it existed until then and there. “Oh, you like that, huh?” he husked against her neck. “Yes,” she cried out. “Yes!” She could feel that coil begin to tighten inside her again, faster this time, and she was desperate for it to break. Her nails dug deeper and Joel moaned, burying his face into her hair as his hips rocked against her, sending his fingers deeper and making her call out his name as her second climax washed over her. Avery’s body felt limp even as her thighs continued to quiver around Joel’s hand. And then it was gone, though the heat of his body still warmed hers. She felt him lean over toward her bedside table and begin rifling through the drawers. She knew exactly what he was looking for. “Other side,” she gasped as his hips rubbed against her. She reached out for the table on the opposite side of her bed, but fell a foot short. Joel got the message and rolled off of her, sending Avery curling in on herself at the loss of heat. He was back soon enough and this time she could no longer feel any kind of barrier between their hips, her hands grasping at the bare skin of his ass as his hard length settled at the vee of her legs. She heard the crinkle of a wrapper and reached out, enclosing her fingers around the package in his hand. “I’ll do it.” Avery made quick work of the foil wrapper, ripping it open, effortlessly, and reaching down to unroll it over his

hardness, stroking it with her fist a few times before positioning him at her opening. Joel waited until she met his eyes before he began to push in, holding her gaze as she enveloped him, welcoming him into her body with little resistance. It felt like coming home and Joel felt his arms quiver with the effort to hold himself up. Avery’s legs tangled with his, encouraging him with the soft rock of her hips up into his. Joel grunted and nodded his head, pressing his lips to her jaw as he began to move. Their movements started slow, but soon picked up speed as their desperation for one another increased. The sweat of their bodies mingled as they seemed to melt into one, her breasts pressed against his chest as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. Joel’s fingers left indentations in her hips as he held her as close as he possibly could. He whispered her name into her ear as he felt himself getting closer, husked praises into her hair and ground himself down so that he brushed against her clit with every other pump of his hips. Avery had never experienced anything quite like this. The emotions and sensations that Joel was now bringing to the surface made her feel as if the earth had suddenly shifted on its axis. The feeling of his hips as they grinded against hers, of him, as he moved deep inside of her, made her breathless as she once again approached that peak, crying out his name as she came around him. Joel’s hips stuttered against hers as he followed, seconds after, emptying himself as he collapsed over her, his weight falling atop her like a heavy blanket. Avery curled her arms around his shoulders, pressing lazy kisses up and down his neck as their sated bodies began to cool.

It was difficult for her to breath like that, with him resting on her, but she was in no rush for him to move. No rush at all.



Chapter Fifteen When he startled awake, it was well past midnight and there was a weight pressed against the left side of his body. Joel found himself smiling before he even looked down his body at the auburn beauty tucked under his arm. Avery’s hair covered half of her face and splayed across the pillows underneath their heads. Gently, Joel raised one hand to brush the locks away, smiling as the glitter in her hair caught the moonlight and she wrinkled her nose, adorably, in her sleep. When Avery shifted and turned over, the heat of her body leaving him slightly chilled, Joel found himself reaching out for her, before thinking better of it. She deserved to have her rest, after all. Instead, he silently stripped the sheets from his body and slipped out of the bed, grabbing his glasses and boxers on the way. His steps were silent as he moved through the apartment. His muscles were sore as he stretched his arms above his head and felt the twinge in his lower back —it wasn’t unpleasant, though. He smirked as he reached back to rub his shoulder and felt the shallow indentations from where Avery’s nails had scored over his flesh. They hadn’t broken the skin (not much really could), but he could bet that they’d left their mark, at least for a couple of days. He liked that. Liked being marked by somebody. Almost as much as he liked leaving his mark on others.

Joel easily located a glass in one of the upper cupboards and filled it with water from the sink in the kitchen, sighing through his nose as he took a long sip. His throat felt as if it had been stripped raw tonight; there was a gravel in the back of it that he couldn’t quite rid himself of, no matter how many times he cleared his throat. He had assumed it had something to do with the way Avery’s name had been ripped from his vocal chords for the last several hours, but maybe it was something more. At that thought, Joel looked down at the bandage on his arm, still wrapped tightly around his wound, despite his earlier…activities. It hadn’t bled too much, from what he could see, but there was the faintest hint of pink coming apparent on the top layer. He wouldn’t have to change them anytime soon, he knew, or ever for that matter. He healed fast and the mark would soon be nothing more than a memory, leaving only a few thin lines to indicate where it had been. He had plenty of other scars just like it. “Mom! Joel bit me again!” “Joel Harper, what did I tell you about biting your brothers?” “I can’t help it! I get so excited!” “Well, it’s only fair that you get bit back, then, isn’t it?” “Ow!” “Not so pleasant? Well, maybe that will teach you. No biting!” His mother’s only rule in the house; no biting. Not each

other and certainly not anybody outside the house. Joel had been the only one in the family that found this difficult and his older siblings had had to keep him under constant surveillance until he learned to control himself. Perhaps distracting himself with photography had helped; he learned to channel his energy into something creative. Still, he sometimes found himself with the undeniable urge to— “Joel?” At the sound of the meek voice, Joel whipped around to find Avery standing just a few feet away, wearing nothing but a sheet around her otherwise bare body. He tried to fight the hunger that rose within him, but he was certain that it was reflected in his eyes—just as much as it was reflected in her own. Still, he tamped it down as he offered her a toothy grin. “Nice outfit,” he teased, stepping forward. Avery rolled her eyes but didn’t resist as he reached for her, tugging the sheet open to reveal her bare skin, and pulled her flush against his body. She wrapped the sheet around his shoulders as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, she tipped her head to the side and studied him for a long moment. “I’m sorry we never got back to the gala for dessert,” she said, her voice low and not apologetic at all, her eyes still shining with mischief. Joel hummed, pressing his lips to her temple, his breath washing over her ear. “I’m not,” he husked,

causing Avery to let out an involuntary shiver as he reached for her waist and hoisted her higher on his body. At the feeling of his hands under her thighs, she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, her ankles locking at the small of his back. Even as Joel bunched the soft material of the sheets around them and carried Avery back to bed, his lips pressed to hers as their bodies pressed tightly together, he knew that this was dangerous. Not only for her, but for him as well. If the wrong people found out about who he was and what he was and how deeply he cared for the woman in his arms, their lives would be thrown into turmoil. They’d never be safe again. But he couldn’t help himself as he backed her into the wall next to her bed. And he couldn’t help himself as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and down her throat, like her skin was the most addicting drug he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting on his lips. He couldn’t stop the cant of his hips or the roam of his hands or the growl in the back of his throat as he felt Avery bite down on his bottom lip, or the shiver as she let out a tiny moan when he speared his fingers inside of her. He couldn’t fight whatever it was that was attracting him to her this strongly. He’d never felt anything like it before and, honestly, he didn’t really know if that was the best or worst thing about this. But there was only one way to find out and Avery let out a sound that was somewhere between a high-pitched squeal and a guttural moan as he turned and pressed her, quite suddenly, down on the bed, his fingers still inside her and moving at a rapid pace. He knew that this was dangerous—feelings like this were always volatile—

but there was nothing he could do right now to stop them. He just decided to enjoy the ride. *****



The second time she awoke, Avery was alone in her bed. Her curtains were closed, but she could see the slight glimmer of sunlight as it filtered in through the cracks and landed at the foot of her bed…over a rose. Avery pushed herself up and crawled across the bed, completely bare, on her hands and knees, reaching for the flower to bring it to her nose. It smelled sweet and it put the widest grin on her face as she rolled over, stretching out sore muscles and bruised skin. For a long moment, she allowed herself to bask in her feelings. In the warmth of that small strip of sun over her face and the curve of her breast. In the smell of the rose as it tickled her nostrils and made her insides flutter. In the satisfying ache of the muscles between her legs, the small bruises and nips littering her neck and chest and thighs, bringing the memories associated with them. Memories of Joel’s body moving over hers—into hers— and coaxing her to multiple releases. They’d spent half the night with their bodies moving as one, moaning and groaning and just…being. Eventually, though, they’d both run out of energy (it was bound to happen, eventually) and Avery had curled herself, once again, against Joel’s body as they settled into a fitful slumber. It had been exactly what she needed to break her years-long dry spell and she found herself looking forward to the next time Joel would make his way to her bed—or she would find herself in his. Avery took a deep breath and in the time it took for her to exhale, a panic had settled low in the pit of her stomach and her eyes popped open, her body tensing as she came to a realization. One that, honestly, she should have thought of before.

He’s my boss. It was like being dunked, head-first, into freezing cold water. Avery’s spine went rigid and she sat up in bed, the rose slipping from between her fingertips as she clambered out of the bed and reached for her robe— which hung on a hook on her closet door—and made her way out into the living room. The panic was welling up inside of her and the only way she could think to calm it was by pacing the apartment. Pacing and cleaning, picking up the articles of clothing that had been discarded the night before; his bloodied shirt, her panties, his suit coat, her dress, pooled in the corner, where they’d left it. Joel’s pants and underwear were gone, as were his shoes, and Avery imagined him creeping up to his apartment, completely bare from the waist up. She couldn’t imagine him doing that at any time when his sister might possibly catch him, so it probably wasn’t long after she’d drifted off for good that night. It had to be well before the sun had risen, that much was certain. She pictured him creeping around the apartment, slipping his bottoms on and trying to make as little noise as possible—which wasn’t too hard for Joel, she recalled —and then slinking out of the apartment, head hung low so as not to be recognized. He was probably just as embarrassed about what happened last night as she was. How unprofessional, the voice in the back of her head chastised, even as she lifted the suit coat to her nose. It still smelled like him and her heart skipped a beat, her fists clenching in the fabric for a long moment before she suddenly released it, allowing the garment to flutter back to the ground.

This can’t happen, the voice said. Not so long as you work for him. And you’ve come too far to quit now. This can’t happen. “So it won’t,” Avery said, allowed, reaching for the coat again and holding it, pinched, between her thumb and index finger. She placed it over the back of her couch and made a note to give it back to him later, before she padded toward the bathroom, already planning out a relaxing, hour-long soak in the tub. She tried not to think about what it might be like to have company…



Chapter Sixteen Joel was in the middle of a very important business call when he heard the knock at his door and groaned. It was probably Kara. And if it was Kara that meant she was there to push those nursing home pamphlets in his hands again. Which meant he was about to have a long, grueling fight with his older sister. Again. “Jeremy,” he sighed into the receiver, “can I possibly call you back a little later? Yes, I know this is incredibly important and we’ll talk about it, but there’s somebody at the door and it’s Sunday…Jeremy, let’s not forget who controls the career of whom.” His voice became harder, effortlessly, when the man on the other end began to argue with him and give veiled threats as to the future of his company. Joel couldn’t help but grin as Jeremy almost immediately backtracked, his feet carrying him across the apartment to the door. “That’s what I thought,” he said, confidently. “Yes, of course I’ll call you back. Tomorrow. For now, let’s just go ahead and enjoy our day off, huh? Go spend time with your wife and kids. Or with your mistress, I don’t really care. Goodbye, Jeremy.” He left the man sputtering on the other line as he took the phone away from his ear and pressed ‘End Call’ and slipped it into his pocket. The knocks had become more insistent as he made his way to the door and Joel rolled his eyes. Kara had always been incredibly impatient.

“Alright,” Joel called out, even as he dragged his feet a bit, “hold your horses. I’m coming.” The knocks persisted and he reached for the door, practically growling as he ripped it off. “Kara, what do you—” The words died on his lips and his eyes widened at the sight of the woman in front of him who was certainly not his older sister. Avery James stood in his hallway, wearing a red t-shirt, ripped jeans, and absolutely no makeup whatsoever, and had his suit jacket on a hanger in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Her face was…impassive. Or, at least, attempting to be. He saw something flash in the hazel depths before it was replaced with something akin to determination. “You left your jacket,” she said, shoving it at him. “And your shirt.” She practically threw the bag at his face and he could see her starting to turn away before she even said goodbye, so he stopped her with a hand on her wrist, tight enough to cause her pause, but loose enough so that she could slip away if she wanted to. When Avery turned back to him, her eyes were wide with shock, staring at the place their skin touched. He watched her throat bob as she swallowed thickly and the slow scan of her eyes as they lifted to his. She was silent. “Come in.” It was a request, but his voice was firm, staring straight into hers. He could see Avery begin to melt, even as she tugged her arm weakly from his grip. “I shouldn’t,” she said, looking down and away, her opposite hand reaching for her wrist, rubbing the skin his palm had kissed. “We shouldn’t…we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” The words tripped off his tongue without his permission. He knew why they shouldn’t be doing this. They both knew why they shouldn’t be doing this and he knew even more than she how dangerous it could be— what it could mean for them—but he found himself both unwilling and unable to let her just…leave. And Avery didn’t seem to have a retort to the question, anyway. Her lips opened and then closed and then opened again, her head shaking gently as her resolve crumbled. She didn’t take a step towards the apartment, but she also didn’t step away and Joel took that as a good sign. “Please,” he said. “Come in. We’ll talk.” But Avery knew as well as Joel did that there would be no talking the second she stepped over that threshold. There couldn’t be; not with the way his blue eyes pierced into her hazel ones. And it was stupid and it was dangerous and God help her, but she didn’t resist as he reached out for her again. There was no talking as his lips covered hers. *****



Avery felt like her entire body was on fire. Everywhere Joel’s hands and lips and tongue touched, she could feel it being burned into her skin. She was certain that she would look down her body and see nothing but marred flesh over every inch that he’d mapped with his body. But all she could see was the softness of her pale curves and the slight patches of red left by his sucking lips and the scruff on his unshaven jaw. And his eyes, which caused all the breath to leave Avery’s lungs. She could feel Joel’s smug smile against her lower lips and Avery tried to be annoyed at him for that, but she couldn’t find it in her to care as his tongue swiped through the wetness pooled between her legs. They’d been at this for hours now and the sun had set nearly an hour earlier, as he’d taken her bent over the kitchen counter. Joel’s apartment was much bigger than Avery’s, but the layout was similar. The rooms bled into each other, but instead of a curtain to separate his bedroom, there were actual walls and a door. The same could be said for a home office and another bedroom across the hall. After their third round, he had dozed and she’d slipped out to use the bathroom—wearing nothing but the T-shirt she’d been wearing when she arrived—and had somehow wandered into his kitchen, which was twice the size of hers. Avery had felt her stomach rumble and was halfstretched across the kitchen island when he’d come up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, his lips to her ear as he let out a low growl. Avery had canted back

into his hips and welcomed Joel into her body for the fourth time in the last few hours. Her hands had clawed at the counter tops as he took her, hard and rough. Her screams echoed off the walls and reverberated around the room. She completely forgot about food in that moment, deciding to focus on sating a different hunger. When he had coaxed her and himself into another of orgasm, Joel had let her gather up any food she wanted to take into the bedroom. He’d fed her and she him before they began their next round. Now, full and feeling soft and sleepy, Avery stretched out over his king-sized bed as he mapped the curves and edges of her body with his mouth and hands, lulling her into a state that was so close to sleep and yet so far from it at the same time. She burned and ached between her legs, but she wanted more. She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of this man. And while she knew it was wrong, she just couldn’t convince herself to stop. So she ceased trying. She allowed Joel to coax her to yet another orgasm with his mouth and fingers, hers clutching at the deep red Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her body, her legs falling open wide and her hips canting into him. No matter what she once thought of Joel Harper, good or bad, there was no denying that the man had his talents. One of them was making her scream his name as stars danced behind her tightly shut eyelids. She may have blacked out for a moment or two. When Avery came, Joel was next to her, leaning halfway over her body, one hand holding up her head as his opposite stroked soothing patterns up and down

Avery’s body. He smirked at her and Avery marveled at the sharp, white teeth in his mouth. She’d never seen a smile quite like his and it made her shiver to know that they had, just seconds prior, scraped over her flesh. She turned, curling her body around his. Her hand stroked down to find him hardening against her thigh. Avery began to lower herself, intent on paying back the favor, but Joel stopped her. “Later,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m still a little tired.” “Afraid you’ll fall asleep on me?” Avery teased. “That could never happen,” Joel promised, nipping at her bottom lip. Avery chuckled and pressed her face into his neck, sighing as she relaxed against his body and allowed herself to drift again. Joel softened against her, but she knew he could be hard again in a matter of seconds. They had plenty of time for that. When she opened her eyes again, the room was a bit darker and his body had been replaced with a pillow, wrapped as securely in Avery’s arms as the blanket wrapped around her body. She had a brief panic that he’d left again before she remembered that this was his apartment and she found herself relaxing into the sheets again, a smile on her lips. She stayed like that for several more minutes before the call of nature had her rising once again and reaching for his shirt. *****



After relieving herself, Avery caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror and her eyes widened. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in several directions all over her head, and there were a few purplish bruises spattered along her neck and chest from where Joel’s lips had sucked and nipped earlier. They’d be easy enough to hide with a turtleneck sweater, of course, but she couldn’t help the blush that rose in her cheeks at the thought of there being something—anything—from this day on her body, right where anybody might be able to see it. Would she get in trouble, she wondered, for sleeping with the boss? Probably. Kara was head of HR but she didn’t seem like the kind of person who would allow this kind of behavior—not even if it was her younger brother. And while Avery knew it would be smarter to stop it all right here and now and walk out, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t walk away. She had tried to walk away. She had shown up at his door to return his jacket and ruined shirt, wearing no makeup at all and her loosest clothing; shapeless jeans and an old, stained t-shirt. Her hair had been up in a messy bun and she was certain that there was a pimple on her chin, but he had looked at her like…like she was the most sublime creature he’d ever seen. She could still feel the heat in his stare, the warmth of his fingers surrounding her wrist, pulling her back to him. The hair on the back of her neck stood up at the memory of his lips on hers as he pulled her into the tight embrace of his strong arms and a shiver ran down her spine at the phantom feeling of his hands on her backside, lifting her up his body and pressing her against the nearest wall. She could practically still hear their moans echoing

around the apartment and wetness began to pool between her legs again. Stepping back from the mirror, Avery turned and walked out of the bathroom, intent on finding her lover and hopefully initiating another round. Professionalism and HR be damned. She found Joel in the kitchen, fully clothed—in a pair of form-fitting jeans and a wrinkled Henley—and standing at the stove, cooking up some kind of meat and vegetables in a pan. It smelled heavenly and Avery felt her stomach begin to growl again at the thought of a hot meal. She approached as silent on her feet as she could manage, hoping to sneak up on him, but before she could so much as touch the skin of his back, Joel was turning around and wrapping her in his arms, his lips descending on hers to take her breath away. When he pulled back this time, there was a wide, cocky grin on his face and if it weren’t for the fact that she was panting and flustered, Avery might have hit him. For making her feel like this. For making her feel powerless and exhilarated at the same time. For making her fall for him. Instead, she just scowled and huffed and he grinned and pressed another, softer kiss to her lips, chuckling as she nipped him. “Go sit down,” he said, his voice practically a growl in her ear. “Food’s almost ready.” “What’re you making?” Avery asked, moving away as Joel’s arm loosened its grip. “Venison and vegetable stir-fry,” he informed her, returning to the stove. She could hear the scrape of his

wooden spoon on the bottom of the pan, and the sizzle of the meat as it fried in the oil. “Venison?” Avery asked. “That’s like…deer, isn’t it?” “It’s exactly like deer,” he affirmed, smirking at her over his shoulder. “It’s delicious.” “It smells delicious,” she complimented. “Where exactly do you buy deer meat, though?” “You can probably buy it at any grocery store,” he replied, shrugging. “But this one I hunted.” “You…you hunt?” Avery pictured the broad-shouldered man before her in a hunting cap and reflective vest, carrying a gun as he pushed up his glasses. It was strange to think that the same man was her boss and wore designer business suits to work each day, but she could still see it. He looked like a hunter. “My entire family hunts,” Joel said, which surprised Avery even more. “Even Kara?” She couldn’t picture the kind, warmhearted woman with a gun in her hand, period; let alone to kill a defenseless little deer. “Not so much anymore,” Joel admitted, “now that she has the kids and a career to uphold, but she was quite the hunter in her day.” “I…I really can’t picture that.” Joel chuckled. “Well, spend a little more time with her and you’ll start to see it,” he promised. “She can be pretty ruthless.” Avery was silent for a long moment as Joel continued to

stir the meat and vegetables, before turning off the burner and doling the food out onto two plates. When he turned around to serve her, he found Avery deep in thought, her eyes fixed on a spot above the kitchen sink, unseeing. Gently, he placed her dish in front of her, the soft clinking sound bringing her back to the present. Avery blinked, turning to look up at Joel as he sat next to her at the kitchen island. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, casually, as he took a bite of his food. Avery shrugged, looking down at her plate. She picked up her fork and began moving her food around the plate, deep in thought. Joel watched her, occasionally bringing a forkful to his own mouth, his eyes studying her, silently, waiting her out. Finally, she put down the fork and he turned to her, giving her his full attention. “Is this…what we’re doing…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Joel placed his hand on her bare thigh, but it wasn’t sexual; just reassuring. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Is it smart?” “Probably not,” Joel chuckled, squeezing her thigh. “But we’re both adults, aren’t we? We can do what we want?” “But what about work?” “What about it?” “You’re my boss,” Avery pointed out. “Won’t that be a conflict of interest?” “How so?”

“Joel,” Avery sighed. “You know exactly how.” She gave him a look and Joel took a deep breath, reaching this time for her hand to squeeze. He was silent as he watched her, their linked fingers resting on her thigh. “Can I be fired for this?” she asked, after another long moment of silence. “Can you?” “Kara would never,” Joel assured her, tugging on her hand so that she met his eyes with her own; saw the honesty etched in the blue depths. “She would never get rid of me.” “And me?” Avery retorted. “My contract runs out in four and a half months, Joel; what happens then? What’s to keep the company for severing ties? What’s to keep them from dissolving it now?” “Me,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “I wouldn’t let them fire you. I wouldn’t let Kara even consider it.” “Even if things don’t work out between us?” “Let’s…let’s not think about that right now,” Joel sighed, reaching up to cup her cheek in the cradle of his large hand. “Let’s just…enjoy each other. Just for a while. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, after all.” He chuckled and used his other hand to push up his glasses, tilting his head to the side. Avery gazed at him for a long moment, looking deep into his crystal blue eyes before she took a deep breath and shook her head. “I just…I want to make sure that I’m not packing my bags at the end of six months,” she admitted. “I don’t want to go back to Illinois. I can’t go back there, Joel.” “And you won’t have to,” Joel swore, cupping both

sides of her jaw in his hands and stroking the softness of her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Whether this— whatever it is—if it works out between us, or not; you will have a place in this city. You have my word.” Avery searched his eyes for a long moment and though she knew it was ridiculous to trust a man she’d known for less than two months, she couldn’t help but feel entirely confident in trusting in him. It was something unfamiliar for her, but she made no attempt to resist it. She gave him a smile, leaning in to press her lips to Joel’s, and let the butterflies flood her entire body as they kissed. When they were broken apart by the growl in her stomach, Joel laughed out loud and let her go, turning her back to her plate as he stood and retrieved a bottle of red from his wine rack and uncorked it. He reached for two glasses in his cabinet and poured one for each of them, handing Avery hers and holding out his. “To us,” he said, his voice soft and his eyes holding hers as they clinked the glasses together. Avery let out an involuntary shiver as the vibration ran through hers, her hazel eyes staying locked with his as she brought the glass to her lips and took a long sip. She could swear, just for a moment, that there was a glow around the irises, but then it was gone, leaving the man smiling at her as he took another forkful of food and brought it, this time, to her lips. Avery welcomed it with a smile of her own and tried to forget her worries. And it worked—at least, for a while.



Chapter Seventeen Avery struggled not to pull at the collar of her turtleneck the following Monday, as she walked into the office with the usual tray of coffee in her hands. The hickeys that Joel had left as he nipped his way down her body the night before were beginning to heal and itched like crazy, but revealing them might attract the rumor mill to speculate about her love life. It was bad enough that the photographs taken of her dancing with Antonio Juarez-Ramos were starting to circulate in the news. They called her “Mystery Woman” and her face was obscured by JR’s shoulder, but her dress was completely recognizable. She was even getting looks in the elevator as it climbed towards her floor—which she tried to ignore the best she could, to no avail—and she could swear she heard whispering behind her, accompanied by some giggling. She bristled at that—the giggling—because she wasn’t unused to it. In Illinois, she’d been the subject of teasing multiple times and it usually had to do with one of two things. One, the fact that she cared more about her studies and work than about finding a boyfriend to hold her books and escort her from class to class. And two, because she was typically the heaviest girl in class. This was almost exactly the opposite. When the elevator doors opened, she let out a breath and made her way quickly toward the lounge, placing the

drinks down and taking only her own and Joel’s, just like any other morning. But when she got to his office, Edith was standing in front of his door with an emotionless expression on her face. At Avery’s questioning glance, she just shook her head and held out her hand for the drink. Avery didn’t hesitate to hand it over. “There are some manuals on your desk,” Edith informed her. “Mr. Harper would like you to read through them and make some notes.” “Of course,” Avery replied. “But, um, is he okay?” “He’s fine,” Edith replied, curtly, as she turned and walked into Joel’s office, shutting the door behind her with a finite click. Avery stood there for a moment, just watching the door, before she made her way behind her desk and sat down. She wondered what on earth she had done wrong to make Edith treat her so coldly; she feared it had something to do with the gala, but she had no idea what. So she decided to just focus on her work. Less than an hour passed when a newspaper was slammed down in front of her, obscuring half of the pamphlet she was reading and causing Avery to let out a gasp and roll back in her chair. When she looked up, Edith was standing there, one eyebrow raised in question and disapproval, in equal measures. “Where did you go on Saturday night?” she asked, one hand on her hip. “To the gala,” Avery replied, albeit a touch hesitantly. With the way that Edith was now looking at her, she was no longer sure that she’d actually been at the party at all.

“I mean after,” Edith clarified, rolling her eyes. “When you and Mr. Harper disappeared, where did you go, exactly?” “Didn’t he tell you?” Avery asked, choosing her words carefully. Edith shook her head, her gaze never leaving Avery’s. “I took Mr. Harper back to his apartment,” Avery informed her, in a whisper. “Just to wrap his wound and change his shirt.” “You didn’t return to the party?” Edith asked, though she sounded like she already knew the answer. “No,” Avery told her. “I went home. I was tired.” Neither statement was entirely false, but neither was true, either. She hadn’t exactly spent much of Saturday night sleeping, though a great deal of it was spent in bed. Most of Sunday, as well. “Well, the press seems to think that you and Mr. Joel were…otherwise engaged.” She pointed to the picture of Avery and Joel on the bottom corner of the front page of the newspaper; Joel’s arms were around her as he led her in dance. Their eyes were locked in a heated gaze that she could feel radiating off the newsprint and Avery flushed, clearing her throat. She shook her head and pushed the paper away from her. “That’s ridiculous,” she murmured. “He’s my boss.” “Then you understand why this might be inappropriate?” Edith said. “Of course,” Avery assured her. “But, trust me, nothing is going on between me and Mr. Harper. No more so than yesterday.”

Edith didn’t look quite like she believed Avery, but Avery’s eyes held firm on hers, unwavering. Finally, the older woman sighed and grabbed the paper off the desk, returning to her own without another word. She seemed to be somewhat satisfied, but Avery didn’t know how long that might last. Edith shot her curious glances for the rest of the morning, until Avery finally stood and announced that she was going to grab lunch. She padded to Joel’s office and knocked gently on the door. At his soft reply, she opened it and met his blue-eyed gaze over the edge of his glasses. Joel gave her a dimpled grin and opened his mouth—presumably to say hello or something of the sort —but was almost immediately interrupted by something just over her shoulder. Avery turned as Joel got to his feet, his smile melting into a guarded frown as Kara Nichols appeared just behind her. The younger woman jumped, startled at her sudden appearance. For the first time since she’d met her, Kara didn’t give her a smile upon meeting. “Good afternoon, Avery,” Kara greeted, coolly, “do you mind if I have a private word with my brother?” The tone of her voice was just as cold as her eyes and left no room for argument—not that Avery would have dared argue with her, anyway. “Of course,” she said and started to inch past Kara, back to her desk, before turning back to Joel. “Before I forget, though, Mr. Harper,” she said, feeling her face heat up as both siblings locked their eyes on her—one pair were decidedly more open and affectionate than the other, and it wasn’t the pair she was used to—and she swallowed thickly. “I’m about to make a lunch run to the

deli; would you like something, like a sandwich maybe?” “Yes, thank you,” Joel said, clearing his throat and purposefully ignoring his sister’s gaze as she narrowed her eyes at him now. “Roast beef and mozzarella on rye, please.” “Yes, sir,” Avery said, then turned and then scurried out as fast as her feet would carry her. She flinched as the door shut firmly behind her. When she turned back, she could swear that she saw the wood around the lock splinter a bit. She turned to Edith with a frown. “What do you think that was all about?” “Beats me,” Edith replied, not looking up from her computer, “but you might want to make yourself scarce; take the long way today.” Avery nodded, mentally thanking her for the advice as she grabbed her messenger bag and phone from her desk. Halfway across the office, she could hear Kara’s voice rise in volume and she paused, turning her ear slightly in an attempt to make out what she was saying, but all she could make out was the thunder of her voice as it shook the door and sent shivers up her spine. She couldn’t force her brain to decipher whatever it was she was saying, as an irrational fear gripped her heart. She was back at the elevator in record time, resting against the wall as she let out a deep breath. *****



The deli wasn’t as crowded as it usually was and that could have had something to do with the fact that Avery was there much earlier than usual. It was barely past noon and the small, locally-owned business was mostly frequented by students, who rarely crawled out of their beds before noon, anyway, let alone walked down the street to grab their lunch. She was in and out in a matter of minutes. Deciding to follow Edith’s advice, Avery took the long way back to the office. It wasn’t that much longer, but Avery allowed herself to slow down and window-shop, gazing at designer clothes and shoes and bags, smiling at small children as they ate with their parents in cafes, and just giving herself a little time to breathe as she strolled along. It wasn’t often that she got express permission to dawdle in the middle of a workday. Usually, she tried to make it back to the office as soon as she could to finish up whatever work Joel had assigned her in the hopes that she would get the chance to work on her own ideas and designs for the company. But today…well, despite the circumstances it was nice to walk around the city for a bit. By the time Avery reached the corner, just before she got back to the office, she had only been gone about twenty minutes and could stand to loiter around for another five, so she stopped by a nearby newsstand and browsed through the magazine selection. Beautiful actors and actresses and singers and models smiled up at her and she scanned the little blurbs next to their heads, but didn’t pause to pick any of them up. She wasn’t one for

gossip columns or entertainment magazines. She didn’t care who was dating whom or who had been found with a mistress or which celebrity would be starring in the next big blockbuster. It was all nonsense, in her opinion. But the newspapers… Avery let out a gasp as she caught sight of a familiar face on the front page of one of the bigger name periodicals—two familiar faces. Her own hazel eyes were in grayscale, reflecting the photographer’s light as her gaze pointed upward, staring deeply into the icy, colorless, bespectacled eyes of Joel Harper. Her hand was in his and she could tell that they were dancing, but to the outside observer, it looked like so much more. And it was. She knew that and Joel knew that. But now, it looked like the whole world knew about it, too. Including Kara. A knot formed in the pit of Avery’s stomach at that thought of Kara finding out about her and Joel through a newspaper article (a front page newspaper article, no less) and it suddenly became clear why she was so angry when she came to the office earlier. But surely this isn’t the first time that Joel has been in the paper with somebody, Avery thought. After all, he’s been out with several women before, hasn’t he. One per week. That’s what the workers at the café said. Besides, it was just a dance. Still, Avery couldn’t help the worry that seeped into every centimeter of her body and she found herself digging into her pocket for change, tossing it at the clerk and snatching a newspaper from the pile. She shoved

the paper into her bag as she shuffled away, walking as quickly as possible towards the office, suddenly very aware of every pair of eyes that came to land on her. Do they know? she thought to herself as she scratched her neck through the sweater. Have they seen the article? Were they there on Saturday night? Did they see Joel and I leave together? Do they have the same suspicions as Kara? Is Kara going to find a way to let me go without Joel being able to stop her? Is she still here? A thousand questions seemed to filter through Avery’s mind as she rode the elevator up to her floor and they doubled as the doors opened and she met the gaze of several of her co-workers—only for each and every one of them to turn away at the last second. Avery was suddenly shrouded in silence as she entered the outer office and scurried her way towards Joel’s door. Once again, she was intercepted by Edith. “I’ll take that,” the older woman said, grabbing the bag that held their sandwiches. She opened it and reached in, pulling out Joel’s roast beef and mozzarella, then handed the bag back. “Mr. Harper would like me to let you know that you can head home early today. You will not be required to stay until he leaves.” Avery’s heart dropped to her stomach and she swallowed past the lump of worry in her throat. “May I ask why?” “He didn’t say exactly,” Edith informed her. “Just said that you could go at five and to have a good night.” Avery nodded slowly and took a deep breath. “And I’ll be expected tomorrow morning, as per usual?” she

asked, praying that the answer was yes and she didn’t just lose her job. “Of course,” Edith said. “Though, Mrs. Nichols might want to schedule an appointment with you.” “Any particular reason for that?” Avery asked, hoping to get some kind of answer. “I can’t say,” Edith sighed. “But it shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” She offered Avery what she probably thought was a comforting smile, but looked more like a grimace. “There are some more pamphlets on your desk,” Edith told her. “Mr. Harper says that when you’re done with them, you can head on home.” Avery cast a long look at the door to Joel’s office. She could no longer hear voices from behind it, so she figured that Kara had already returned to her own department, but she still wanted to check that he was doing alright. She wanted so much to talk to him; to find out what was going on. Instead, she forced herself to return to her desk and pull out her lunch, unwrapping her sandwich as she picked up one of the blueprints and ignored Edith as she slipped into Joel’s office. She continued to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach as she made notes and forced herself to finish at least half of the sandwich before tossing the rest in the trash. Avery was halfway through her third blueprint when she remembered the newspaper that she’d shoved into her bag earlier. Glancing up over the top of the paper, she studied Edith for a long moment, making sure the other woman wasn’t watching as she reached surreptitiously

into her bag and pulled out the periodical, tucking it inside her sweater as she stood and walked, as casually as she could manage, to the bathroom. There, she picked a stall, pulled her feet up to rest on the seat with her, and opened up the paper to the main article, forcing her gasp to the back of her throat.



Chapter Eighteen When she returned to her desk, Avery was twice as aware of the stares she got from her co-workers. She was aware of the whispers that stopped as soon as she got close enough to discern what they were saying. They must have thought they were being so subtle about it, too, but Avery caught the mention of her name from Grace—one of the designers—before the blonde’s lips clamped shut and she avoided her gaze, looking down instead at the tablet in her hands. The woman she’d been talking to, Naomi, was a little less surreptitious; her eyes followed Avery all the way back to her seat. It made her feel uneasy, to be watched so closely, even though there was a wall that separated her and Edith from the rest of the office. She felt like all those eyes on the other side of it suddenly had some kind of X-ray vision that could look straight into her mind and see all the secrets she had hidden there. She’d tossed out the newspaper as soon as she’d finished reading the article, shredding it into tiny strips so that nobody else could read it, and buried it under a mountain of paper towels. She’d feel guilty about the environmental factor later, but she couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else in the office finding it and reading all the…the trash that a certain journalist had written about her. And Joel. And JR. They still hadn’t named her in the article and she wondered if that was because they didn’t know her name

or if they thought that calling her the “faceless business associate” would add something like drama to the story. Either way, the fact that her picture was plastered all over the article wouldn’t keep her anonymity in the office if anybody was to happen upon the paper in the trash, so she had dealt with it the best she could. Apparently, that hadn’t been enough. Avery found an identical newspaper on her desk as she sat back down and she almost fell out of her chair at the sight of her own face staring back up at her from the front page. Her eyes flew up, looking all around. The only other person whose face she could see was Edith’s and the older woman had her eyes trained on her screen, as always. Avery opened her mouth to call out to her—to ask who had dropped the paper on her desk—but she swallowed back the question, shaking her head, and stood up. She was halfway to Joel’s office when Edith spoke up behind her. “Don’t do it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout in Avery’s ears as she spun around to face her, eyes wide. “What?” she asked. “Wh-why?” “Because you don’t need to be making things worse,” Edith hissed. “Sit back down and do your work. Stop worrying about what other people are saying and get on with your life before you do irreparable damage.” The older woman didn’t take her eyes away from her computer screen for one second as she chastised Avery, but still she felt cowed. She returned to her desk with her

eyes facing the ground, watching the toes of her shoes as they moved across the office carpeting. As she sat back down in her seat, Avery spared one last, longing look at Joel’s office door before looking down at the blueprints open on her desk and picking up her pen. She forced her eyes to remain on her desktop until there was nothing more to read or write. ******



When five o’clock came, Avery was already boarding the elevator. She had forced herself to stand up from her desk when the rest of her co-workers started to pack up and make their way out. She had resisted even glancing at Joel’s door as she handed the blueprints and pamphlets, that she’d spent all day making notes in, to Edith and said a soft goodbye. Edith had given her a tiny, somewhat consoling, smile and shooed her out the door. Avery had avoided pulling at the neck of her sweater as the itching around her bites suddenly became ten times worse in the presence of her peers. She ignored the whispers and the stares, kept her eyes downcast and her lips pressed into a thin line so as to avoid responding to their laughter. Her fist clenched around the strap of her messenger bag around her shoulders and her breathing—by some miracle— remained even, despite the claustrophobic feeling of the tiny elevator. It had almost reached the lobby when she felt a tap on her shoulder and restrained herself from groaning out loud as she turned. She recognized the woman, somewhat, but didn’t know her name. She had dark skin and glasses and curly black hair and freckles, but she didn’t work on Avery’s floor. “Avery James?” she asked. Avery nodded, wordlessly. “Are you…is it true that you danced with Antonio Juarez-Ramos?” Avery sighed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Then she nodded. “Yes,” she said, curtly. “So it’s true that you went home with him, as well?” the woman asked. She looked and sounded young; her voice

was high and her eyes were bright. She might have been an intern. “Why not?” Avery replied, not caring what this particular person thought of her. “But I thought you went home with Mr. Harper,” another person she didn’t recognize piped up. It was a man this time; tall and redheaded and gangly. Probably another intern. “Why not?” Avery repeated, tonelessly. “So which one was it?” Grace asked, from the back of the elevator. “JR or Mr. Harper?” “Why not?” Avery said, for the third time, as the elevator doors opened and she walked out. Her steps were quick, but not rushed. She didn’t want them to think that she was running away from them, but she also didn’t care to stick around. When the brisk autumn air wrapped around her, Avery let out a deep breath and allowed herself a moment of stillness in the otherwise exuberant and ever-active city that surrounded her. Cars continued to race past her on the street, pedestrians brushed by on their way home, and the sound of construction flooded her consciousness, but she still felt utterly alone. For once, that loneliness was comforting instead of stifling. And then it wasn’t. Avery felt her chest tighten slightly as she began to move down the street, keeping a quick pace as she weaved around the bodies traveling in the opposite direction. She forced herself to breathe evenly and kept

her hands wrapped tightly around the strap of her bag as she hurried towards her building. She nearly walked into oncoming traffic before somebody pulled her back. “Thank you,” Avery breathed, turning to the teen boy who’d wrapped his hand around her arm. He gave her a polite smile and a nod, before returning to bop his head along to the music he was listening to, his headphones taking up nearly half of his head. She turned back to look at the crossing signal across the way, getting lost in her thoughts once again as she caught her breath. She couldn’t stop thinking about Joel; about the weekend they’d spent in one another’s arms; about the promises he’d made her, about staying together no matter what; about his assurance that he could keep Kara off their case; about the fact that she hadn’t even seen him since noon, despite working less than twenty feet away from one another. She wanted—no, needed—to speak to him. To find out if this, whatever it was they had together, was still on; if she could believe him when he told her that he’d take care of everything. She could feel her phone in the pocket of her pants, pressing hotly against her thigh. Her fingers itched to reach in and pull it out; to call him and get a straight answer, once and for all. At the same time, she was terrified of what that answer might be. When the traffic light turned green and the crossing signal turned white, her feet automatically carried her across the street with the rest of the crowd and by the time she reached the other sidewalk, her phone was in her hands as her thumbs punched out a text. It was short

and simple; four one-syllable words in a row. We need to talk. Avery’s finger hesitated over the screen, just a breath away from pressing “Send”. It wasn’t too late to erase the message, to pretend like she’d never even tapped it out in the first place. She could turn off her phone right now, place it back into her pocket and continue to her apartment, ignore the ache in her chest. She could make dinner for herself and go to bed early. She could fall asleep alone, with thoughts of Joel swimming around in her head—but alone. She could do it. But she couldn’t do it. Not really. Avery pressed “Send” and shoved the phone back into her pocket as she continued to walk the rest of the way to her apartment, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths. There was no response by the time she reached her building. Still no response by the time the elevator reached her floor. No notifications as she pulled out her key and unlocked the door. Silence as she slipped into her studio and silence as she rid herself of her bag and shoes. Silence as she padded down the hall to the bathroom. Just…silence. Too much silence. It didn’t unnerve her until she was washing her hands in the bathroom sink, but suddenly the hair on the back of her neck was standing up and Avery’s ears perked up when she heard a noise coming from the main room. She swallowed thickly as she listened closer and her ears picked up the sound of…footsteps. Avery’s eyes widened and she threw open the door,

making her way back down the hall, her heart pounding as she got closer and closer to the main room, anticipation crawling up her spine. “Joel?” she called out as she entered the room. She didn’t see anybody there and she thought that perhaps she had just imagined it. Her shoulders drooped as she stepped further into the room, turning all around. “Joel, are you here?” The bedroom curtain fluttered and she whipped around, eyes widening as her lips stretched into a smile, expecting her lover to step out and greet her with that beautiful, charming… Avery’s breath caught in her lungs and her heart was gripped with the icy hand of fear, her feet automatically carrying her right back to the bathroom at the sight of the large creature staring—no, glaring—back at her. Its eyes tracked her across the living room and Avery watched as it bowed slightly, clawing at the ground with its enormous paws, and she knew that she wouldn’t have very much time to make it back to the bathroom before it pounced. Still, her steps were careful, cautious. She moved gently across the floor, making sure that she never looked the creature straight in its ice-blue eyes, keeping watch of its body as it inched forward. When Avery saw the muscles in its back tense, she took off running, screaming as she made her way back to the bathroom. She heard the growl that ripped from the creature’s throat as it chased her. Avery could feel it growing nearer and nearer and she just barely had enough time to shut and lock the door behind her as she ducked into the bathroom. The doorknob rattled as Avery moved away from it, grabbing her cell phone from where she’d dropped it on

the counter and backing up to the tub. She didn’t know how that might make her safer, but at least it was something. She checked her phone and found, with no small ounce of relief, that Joel had finally replied to her texts. I’m on my way home now. I’ll meet you at your apartment. Avery’s eyes widened and she hurriedly tapped out a reply, praying that he would receive the message in time. Don’t! Wolf! Call Police! The door continued to rattle as she pressed “Send” and then dialed 911, pressing the phone to her ear. She jumped as the door began to splinter and she could hear the harsh breaths and the scraping of the creature’s teeth and claws as they began to rip through the wood. “911; what’s your emergency?” “There’s a wolf!” Avery practically screeched as she caught sight of a flash of sharp, white teeth coming through the door. There was now a jagged hole in the center—and it was getting bigger. “Where is the wolf, ma’am?” the operator asked in an annoyingly calm voice. “In my apartment!” Avery exclaimed, pushing herself against the wall, as far from the animal as possible as its snout appeared in the hole. “It’s in my apartment! It’s trying to kill me!” “Ma’am, please try to remain calm. What is your address?”

“I…I have no idea,” Avery whimpered. She’d never memorized the building number. She barely even knew what apartment she was in. “The building belongs to the Harper family,” she tried, praying that the operator would know who she meant. “Elizabeth Harper? Joel?” Silence. “Hello?” “I’m tracing your phone, Ma’am. Please stay on the line.” As if she’d hang up! “Hurry, please!” The hole was getting bigger; the wolf was almost completely through. One of its paws was now visible, reaching out for Avery, sharp claws extended. She cowered further, shielding her face with her hands, as if shutting out the image of the attacking wolf would make it disappear for real. “Please,” she sobbed into the receiver. “Ma’am, please try to look for an exit. We’re going as quickly as we possibly can.” But there were no exits. Avery knew it already. The only fire escape was in her living room. The bathroom window wouldn’t even lead to a ledge and she was too far up to safely jump to the ground. She’d die upon impact. All she could do was sit here and wait for the inevitable; for the wolf to— Suddenly, Avery heard it. Or, rather, didn’t. Silence. There was nothing but silence. Peeking out from between her fingers, she looked back towards the bathroom door and was shocked to find that the wolf that had been attempting to get in at her was suddenly…gone. Just like that. The only trace that it had been there was the splintered wood; the door was practically ripped in half, the doorknob hanging on by a

thread. Avery swallowed thickly, the phone dropping from her hand as she slowly stood up in the tub. She could hear the operator’s voice calling out for her, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Because suddenly she was alone again and relief coursed through her like the sweetest drug. The silence enveloped her once again and for a long moment, Avery didn’t question why she was alone again. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe deeply. And then she heard another growl. Avery ducked back down in her tub, once again covering her head as more growls filtered through the hole in the door. This time, however, instead of growing closer, they grew further away, as if that wolf-like creature was being dragged away. Avery hoped that meant that the cops had arrived and were taking care of the problem —though she doubted it. She waited for a long time, for some kind of sign that she was definitely, completely safe. She waited for the silence to return, for a kind voice to call out to her and tell her that it was all over. For another “Ma’am” that would make her world make sense again. Eventually, it came. “Avery?” Her head popped up as the voice sent tingles up and down her spine and Avery once again got to her feet. She didn’t think twice this time as she jumped over the edge of the tub, heading straight towards the familiar voice. “Avery?” Joel called again.

“Joel?” she called back, as she ripped the door open, uncaring as the doorknob came off in her hand. “Joel!” He was standing at the end of the hall, his clothing ripped and hanging off his large body in shreds, his glasses cracked and askew, his blue eyes solely on her. Avery ran at him, throwing herself into his arms. Joel caught her, lifting her up so that Avery’s legs could wrap around his waist as she kissed his face, her hands running through his hair. “Oh my god, Joel,” she sighed, pulling away to look at his face. “Are you okay? How did you fight that beast? Where is it? Did you kill it? How did you get here so quickly?” Joel just shook his head and pressed his lips to hers, taking her mouth in a hot, passionate kiss that left them both breathless, before pulling back and wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Avery melted into his embrace, pressing her lips against his neck as tears sprung to her eyes. She held onto him for dear life and suddenly words were unnecessary. She was safe now. They both were. ***** There was a wolf in the middle of her living room. A bloody, beaten-down, knocked out wolf. It was curled into the fetal position, its chest moving raggedly with its breaths. Avery kept a safe distance away as Joel stroked its head, her eyes wide as she stared at him. The care with which he touched the creature was…confusing. She didn’t understand how he wasn’t terrified of it. She didn’t understand how he could be so calm and treat it

with such gentility after it had tried to kill her—kill both of them. His fingers stroked through the blood-matted hair with reverence and…love. She could see the emotion shining brightly in his eyes and she wanted to ask him why but she couldn’t find the courage to speak right now. Not while that thing was still in her living room. So she waited. She waited for the cops to get here. Or animal control. Or whomever Joel had called after he hugged her ten minutes ago, assuring her that everything was alright and that she was safe. Before he crouched down in front of a literal wild animal and started to stroke it like it was a puppy. She listened as he whispered soft words into its ear and wondered what on Earth was going on. Then, before her very eyes, the creature began to shift. It was slow at first, and barely discernable. First, the wolf’s fur began to recede into its skin, getting shorter and shorter until all Avery could see was bare skin. Then, it’s spine began to morph, straightening and shifting until it had a distinctly human shape, its skin pinking up and smoothing out as its head changed shape. It’s breathing got a bit quicker and the paws changed to hands; the front legs turned to arms and the hind legs shifted to look more human. Breasts appeared on the creature’s chest and hair sprouted from the top of its head. Before Avery’s very own eyes, the wolf changed into a woman—a familiar woman. “Mrs. Harper?” she gasped, her eyes widening as she took a few steps back, staring and gaping at the figure on the floor, her eyes flitting to Joel. “Joel?”

He refused to look at her for a long moment, his hand stroking through his mother’s hair, watching her chest move as she breathed. Elizabeth Harper was as bloody and scratched up in her human form as she’d been as a wolf. Bruises and scars littered her body, both old and new. She shivered, goose bumps appearing on her bare skin and Joel finally turned away from her, grabbing a blanket from the couch and laying it over his mother, keeping her warm. “Joel,” Avery repeated. This time, he glanced up at her, his eyes guarded and his lips spread in a thin line. His blue eyes flashed with caution and regret. “I can explain.” Before he spoke further, however, there was a knock at the door.



Chapter Nineteen Elizabeth Harper was carried out on a gurney. The men who held it were dressed in scrubs, but they didn’t look like any paramedics or doctors that Avery had ever seen. “They’re guardians,” Joel whispered in her ear as she stared at them from her spot at the kitchen counter, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket from the closet. She couldn’t stop shivering, but she didn’t feel cold. Not exactly. All she felt was confusion, really. Confusion that invaded every inch of her body. “They’ll take care of her.” Avery stayed silent until the “guardians” were gone, the door shutting with an echoing click after them as they carried Mrs. Harper out the door and down the hall. She was silent as Joel walked around the living room, picking up furniture and inspecting all the things that the wolf —his mother—had broken. He was silent as he did this, giving Avery the time and space she needed to process what the hell had just happened. “Is she a werewolf?” Avery asked, her voice grave and her throat dry. She cleared it as Joel turned to her with calm, caring eyes. “Your mother,” she clarified, as if he might not understand to whom she was referring. “Is she a…a werewolf?” “No,” Joel answered, simple and concise. “Lycanthropy is different than what we have. Lycans can’t control their transformation. We can.”

“W-we?” Avery choked. “You mean you’re—” And suddenly she couldn’t breathe. And suddenly she couldn’t be near him. Avery practically fell off her stool as Joel took a step towards her. “No!” she exclaimed. “Don’t. Don’t come near me.” “Avery,” he sighed, taking another step. She hopped to her feet, making her way quickly to the other side of the room. Joel rolled his eyes. “Avery, wait. Just let me…” “Don’t!” she growled at him, stopping him dead in his tracks as he attempted to make his way towards her again. “Don’t touch me!” “Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender as he took a few steps back. “Can I just explain then? From here?” Avery considered him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yes,” she said, finally. “But don’t come near me. Stay right there.” She inched toward the chair in the living room and sat down, facing him. “Explain,” she said. Joel nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose, taking a seat at the counter stool furthest from her, respecting her wishes. “I,” he started softly, calmly, “am a wolf.” “How?” Avery asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her brow was furrowed in a way that made Joel want to reach out and smooth the wrinkle on her forehead before it became a permanent fixture on her otherwise flawless face. But he didn’t; he couldn’t. Because she didn’t want that. She just wanted an explanation. “I don’t know the exact history,” he admitted. “I’ve probably heard about it a bunch of times when I was a

kid, but I…I don’t remember exactly what makes it possible. All I know is that I can change. My entire family can.” “Into wolves,” Avery said. It wasn’t a question. “Yeah,” Joel sighed. “Into wolves. Generations and generations of wolves.” “But you’re not…werewolves?” “No. Like I said; werewolves are a different species. Lycanthropy is more of a…disease.” “And what you have isn’t?” “No. It’s genetic. My mother has it, as you saw. My father didn’t, but it’s…dominant. The gene. It’s like… dimples. If one parent has them, then all the offspring have them, as well. So…” “You have the gene,” Avery finished for him, frowning. “Yes,” he said. “I have the gene.” “So you can…you can turn into a wolf?” “Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I can turn into a wolf. I am a wolf. It takes more concentration to stay in this form, most days.” He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but…I’m not dangerous…usually.” “What about your mother?” Avery asked. “Is she…how much of a danger is she to me? To you?” She motioned to his wrapped forearm, bared by the rips in his shredded shirt. His entire body was clawed up and the suit that he’d been wearing earlier was stretched and hanging off of him in pieces of torn cloth.

“I can handle her,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “This,” he motioned to the ruined suit, “is nothing. I’ve had worse.” Avery’s eyes widened at that, in fear and confusion and something else that Joel couldn’t quite name, but he could see the panic that stiffened her spine and made her hands shake and her face sweat. Her breath began to shorten and she bit her lip, shaking her head. She stood up, then sat back down. Then stood up again. “This…this can’t be happening,” she breathed, shaking her head. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes and she began to pace. She walked back and forth across the living room. Back and forth, back and forth, wringing her wrists and biting her lip. Her heart beat an erratic pattern against her ribcage and Joel could hear it as he watched her, his eyes tracking her across the floor. “This isn’t happening.” The statement was decisive and sure, but Avery didn’t look like she believed it. Her face was unsure and her frown deepened as she shook her head. She squeezed her wrists and kept pacing, never turning fully towards him, though her eye glanced at him from time to time. “This isn’t happening.” “It’s happening,” Joel said, interrupting her as she opened her mouth to repeat the mantra again. “It’s been happening for a while. Years. I’ve dealt with this for years.” She paused at that, turning her wide eyes to him. “Years?” she asked. “Is this…this is your mother’s sickness?” “Yes,” Joel said with a curt nod. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” she echoed. “What do you mean sort of? What…is this—her sickness or isn’t it?” “It’s not that simple,” he sighed. “It’s…my mother’s sickness is unique.” “No kidding,” Avery huffed, resuming her pacing. “And she’s not a werewolf?” “Again, no,” Joel grunted. “Lycanthropy is viral, but my mother didn’t have it. We checked.” “How do you check for that?” “It’s difficult to explain.” “Well, try,” Avery growled. Joel turned to her with a raised eyebrow and she paused, avoiding his eye. “Please.” “Really,” Joel said. “I can’t. I’m not even…I’m supposed to be erasing your memory right now.” Avery paused again, her entire body tensing as she turned to Joel with wide, terrified eyes. “You can do that?” she asked. “You can…erase my memory?” “Yes,” Joel said, pushing up his glasses again. His iceblue eyes flashed. “Well, only certain parts of your memory. The wolf parts of your memory, to be specific.” “The wolf parts?” “I can make you forget that you ever saw my mother as a wolf. I can make you forget that you were attacked. I can make you forget everything that happened here tonight. All you’ll remember is coming home and taking a nap after work.”

“How do you—” “I really don’t know. I just know that I can. It’s an ability that I have. One that I have always had. It might be an evolutionary thing; something that we’ve developed the ability to do for survival or whatever. It seems that when humans learn of your…wolf-ness, they’d rather see you dead than let you explain yourself. Weird, huh?” He chuckled, humorlessly. “I used to accidentally go into my wolf form at school and the only reason nobody ever found out about it was because Kara would make them all forget. I just became a biter; a problem child.” “Must’ve been fun,” she deadpanned. “Especially for my mother,” Joel laughed. “I got the ‘don’t bite humans, Joel,’ speech from her a whole bunch growing up.” “Ironic, isn’t it?” Avery huffed. She’d stopped pacing and was now facing him, head on, though she still refused to meet his eyes. She motioned to the bandage on his arm. “Oh, you mean this?” Joel sighed and ripped the bandage off of his arm, showing her the nearly fully healed bite mark. Avery gasped and took several steps forward before she remembered herself. She paused behind the couch, her eyes locked on the scar on Joel’s arm. “We heal quickly,” he explained. “Another evolutionary thing, I guess.” “Do you…get hurt a lot?” Avery asked. “Wolves? Or just me?” Joel asked. “Both.”

“Wolves do, yes,” he said. “We have different families, different turfs. My mother comes from kind of an elite line; all wolves until she met my father. There were no Harpers in the clan until he came along and that started… problems.” “Problems?” Avery furrowed her brow. “What kind of problems?” “Well, our clan doesn’t take too kindly to…humans.” Avery’s eyes widened. “Not that…not that they hate humans, of course. I mean, how can they. You guys run this world, don’t you? The only way we can really live is to mix in with you. But…not like that; not the way my parents mixed. They didn’t like that.” “Is that how your father died?” Joel stayed silent, but she could see the way his jaw clenched and she had her answer. “Is that why your mother was here? Because she found out about us?” “My mother has no issues with humans,” Joel said, with a small grin. “She married one.” “Then why…?” Joel took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I went to see her this morning, before work. She must have…smelled you on me. And with her sickness…she probably sensed that you were a threat. It was a mistake.” “A mistake that almost caused me my life.” Joel looked down. “I know,” he said, his voice a bit strained. “That’s why…” he shook his head. “That’s why what?” Avery asked.

“That’s why I had her sent away. I should have done it a long time ago. Kara wanted me to do it a long time ago. This morning, she actually came into the office and demanded that I have her committed. After she saw the paper; saw us dancing on the front page of the newspaper. She warned me about something like this happening and I…I didn’t believe her. Didn’t trust her to know what she was talking about.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Avery; my stupidity almost cost you your life.” He walked towards her and Avery forced herself not to step back. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it might be. Joel reached out, cupping her cheek with one large, scarred hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said. Avery leaned into his touch and breathed in his scent. “Maybe you should make me forget,” she said, after a long moment. Joel’s breath was shuddering. “Are you sure?” he asked. Avery nodded. “If I forget,” she said, “then I won’t be as terrified as I am right now, just touching you. If I forget, then I can kiss you without thinking about the fact that you could kill me at a moment’s notice.” “I would never—” “I know,” Avery assured him. “I know that you would never hurt me. I can feel it in the way you hold me, in the way you look at me…I know. But I—” “You don’t trust me.” It was a statement of fact. He didn’t look as disappointed by that as she thought he might. It was just a fact.

But it wasn’t. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Avery insisted. “It’s just that I…I can’t help but be terrified. And I don’t want to be terrified. Not of you.” “So you think that forgetting it will be better?” “Why wouldn’t it be?” Avery searched his eyes, her lips turning down in a frown. Joel swallowed thickly. “Because, eventually, if this…if this works out between us, I’m going to have to tell you again. You’re going to find out and you’re going to panic and you’re just…just be sure of this. Because if I make you forget, then we can’t do this anymore. Because if you want to forget, then there’s no future for us. You will never be ready to handle something like that. So be sure. Either we go forward with this,” he took a deep breath and dropped his hand from her cheek, stepping back, “or everything stops here. I make you forget and we stop this. Our relationship—whatever it is—ends. We go on with our lives and you continue on with your training period. At the end of which, I will offer you a more permanent position. If you choose to take it, then we become colleagues. I will no longer be your boss, but we will never…this can’t happen again.” He took another deep breath. “Do you understand?” Avery nodded, slowly, backing away from Joel, turning away. She began to pace again, her movements slower this time, a bit…calmer than before. She began to wring her wrists again. Her breathing became a little shallower and she started to mutter. Joel watched her with a stoic expression on his face, his eyes trailing her as she moved back and forth. He watched her for several minutes, before she suddenly paused.

“Will I forget…everything?” she asked. “As in…everything? Saturday? Yesterday?” She took a deep breath. “This morning?” “Yes,” he said. “I think that’s for the best.” Avery nodded, her eyes wide, her lips pressed together. She nodded and resumed pacing for another long, agonizing minute. When she stopped again, her eyes were glistening with stubborn, unshed tears. “Can I make a request?” she asked. “Anything,” Joel promised, taking a step towards her. “Before you make me forget…everything, can we just— can you just make love to me? One last time.” A stray tear escaped the corner of her left eye and Joel reached out, thumbing it away. “I thought you were terrified of me,” he whispered. “I am,” Avery admitted, leaning into him again. “But not too much for that.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please.” Joel considered her for a long moment, watching the shine of tears in her hazel eyes, the quiver of her chin and the way her lips pressed together and her nostrils flared as she tried not to cry. He had seen women cry before—he had made women cry before—but it had never affected him quite like this. This time, he wanted to do more than comfort her with soothing words and a comforting touch. This time, he wanted to take her into his arms and promise—swear to

her—that she would never be sad again. This time, he wanted to be able to keep his promise; to love her and to hold her and to keep her safe. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to forget. She wanted to have one last night with him and then never remember any of it, ever again. She didn’t want him—not all of him, at least. She just wanted the night. And he could give her that. Joel didn’t answer Avery in words. Instead, he stepped forward and cupped her cheeks in his hands, leaning down to press his lips to hers in a kiss so filled with passion and heat and something that he was too afraid to name, but he swore he felt the earth move beneath their feet as she reached for him in response. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he reached underneath her, pulling her up into his embrace so that her legs wrapped around his waist. Their lips stayed connected as he carried her in the direction of her bed, sweeping the curtain aside and placing her down on the bed. Avery’s hands scrambled over his torso, nails tearing away at the already ripped shirt. The rags fell to the ground at his feet and her hands reached for the button of his pants as his reached to pull off her sweater. Her hands fell away from him for a moment as she raised her arms, allowing the soft, warm fabric to be tugged off, over her head. She shivered as the cool air of the room hit her skin, making goosebumps rise on her arms. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to warm herself. Joel smiled down at her and sat down on the bed, wrapping his arms around her, giving her his warmth as Avery curled against his body. He kissed her forehead.

Then her cheek. Then her other cheek. He pressed kisses all over her face, moving down until he reached her lips again. Then further, pressing his open mouth to her neck, her chest. He kissed the space between her breasts, his hands moving around to the back, quickly finding and undoing the clasp of her bra. He kissed from her shoulder down to her fingers as he lowered one strap, then the other. He brought her hands together and kissed each pad of her fingers, one by one, then pressed his lips to the palms of her hands, locking eyes with her. “You are so beautiful,” he told her, his voice deep and gravelly. “So goddamn beautiful.” He pressed his lips to hers again, helping her to wrap her arms around his neck as he grasped her hips, lifting her enough so that she was now straddling him, her bare breasts pressed to his bare, muscled chest. Joel’s hands ran up and down her back, his fingers playing with the ridges of her spine, his lips teasing her pert nipples as his tongue laving over them, stiffening them and making Avery cry out in ecstasy. Her hands were buried in his hair, her hips grinding into his, coaxing growls from the back of his throat. He reached down for the button of her pants, undoing it deftly and forcing the zipper down as he plunged his hands into the front, his lips never leaving her breast, smiling around the flesh as she gasped. His fingers stroked through her wetness and Avery whimpered, grinding even harder now, trying to feel the friction against his callused fingers. Joel pulled his hand out and she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hips tried, instinctively, to follow. Joel growled again, pushing her off of his lap and

holding onto her waist until he was certain that her feet were planted firmly on the floor in front of him. Then he pulled away, leaning back and resting with his hands on the mattress behind him, holding him up. Avery squirmed under his gaze as he swept it up and down her body. “Strip.” His voice was low, vibrating through Avery as she stood before him, her arms pressed against her sides. She took a deep breath as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pants, slowly tugging them over the curves of her hips, her eyes locked on his as lowered them, allowing them to drop and pool around her ankles. Joel’s hungry eyes drank in every inch of her exposed skin and Avery felt a flush spread over her, warming her from the inside, out. She reached for the waistband of her panties, biting her lip as she slowly peeled them away from her body, the fabric rolling in on itself a bit as she dragged them down her thighs. Her legs opened a little and Joel licked his lips at the sight of the moisture he could see there. Avery shivered under his gaze. When her panties joined the pool of fabric at her feet, Avery stepped out of them and kneeled down in front of Joel, batting his hands away when he reached down to pull her up to him. “Let me,” she said, her voice low and husky and so completely seductive. Joel swallowed thickly, his pupils dilating in lust as her fingers resumed their actions from before. She pulled down his zipper and reached for the waistband of his pants, tugging down as he lifted himself up slightly, allowing her to drag the fabric all the way down to his feet. She tugged them off, along with his shoes, and her hands ran gently back up his legs, her fingers stroking

the crisscrossed scars that she hadn’t taken the time to notice over the weekend. Hair grew in patches all along his toned, muscular legs; it was soft and tickled the palms of her hands as she caressed the smooth skin underneath, grinning as she felt him shiver under her ministrations. She pressed kisses to his calves, then his knees, then his thighs, moving up to his boxers. When she reached to pull at the band, Joel’s hands stopped her and she looked up to meet his heated gaze. “You don’t have to,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know,” Avery whispered back, her eyes searching his, never losing the connection. “But I want to remember every inch of you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. She swallowed thickly. “While I still can. So, please, just let me…” He nodded, placing his hands back behind him, keeping himself up as he watched her. Avery took a deep breath as she divested Joel of his boxers, baring him completely to her hungry eyes as she tugged them off of his feet and tossed them over her shoulder, not caring where they landed. Her eyes were locked on the hardness she found between his legs. He was standing at attention already and her fingers twitched, itching to wrap around him. She paced herself, though; resisted the urge to stroke the length of him in favor of running her hands over his narrow hips, stroking up to run her fingernails gently over his quivering abdominal muscles as Joel sighed and growled, low in his throat. Avery shivered in response, licking her lips as she looked up into his face. Joel’s eyes had darkened considerably, taking on a hungry look that both terrified and excited Avery as she

finally lowered her mouth onto him, taking just the tip between her lips. Joel grunted, his fingers curling around the bed sheets in an attempt to avoid grabbing onto her hair and pulling her mouth down further. Avery hummed around him and the vibrations crawled up his spine, making it harder to keep his hips from pressing up into her. “Avery,” he grunted and she hummed again, pulling back slightly to lick his head before going back down, taking more of his shaft into her mouth. Her fingers stroked the skin of his inner thighs as she worked him, humming and moaning and adding to his ecstasy. Joel focused on his breathing as he felt the telltale knot begin to form in his lower abdomen. “Avery,” he husked again, one of his hands finally reaching out to bury itself in her hair. “Avery, wait. I’m going to—” He moaned as she sucked harder, the fingers of one of her hands wrapping around his thick length and stroking up and down in time with her lips. He could feel her tongue stroke over the sensitive mushroom top and he couldn’t restrain his hips from moving up slightly, into her mouth. “Fuck,” Joel grunted as the knot began to tighten. His other hand reached for her hair and he tugged, slightly; not to pull her away, but to encourage her. “Avery,” he warned. “I’m gonna—” She sucked harder, still, understanding perfectly what was about to happen. Her hand tightened on him, the opposite one lowering to cup him, squeezing him, playing with him. “Avery,” he gasped, just seconds before he exploded in her mouth. Avery hollowed out her cheeks, taking him all in, swallowing everything he gave her as her hands continued to stroke him. Joel’s fingers tightened in her hair and he tugged, pulling her up until the length of her

body was pressed to his. Joel laid back on the bed, pressing his lips to hers as he stroked his hands up and down her back. Avery’s legs opened, straddling him again, her wetness rubbing against his softened length. Joel groaned deep in his throat and wrapped his hands around her thighs, pulling her up his body. Avery giggled as she allowed herself to be dragged, feeling the tickle of Joel’s scruff as he rubbed it against her skin, pressing his lips everywhere he could reach. When her thighs bracketed his head, he pressed his lips against the sensitive skin there, nipping and sucking and opening his mouth against her wet center. Avery let out a shuddering breath as her hands reached for the headboard, her fingers tightening around the edge, nails digging into the wood. “Oh God,” she breathed, her hips pressing down into his mouth, her body shaking with the effort to hold herself up and not suffocate him. Joel’s strong fingers were wrapped around her thighs, holding her firmly against his face, almost encouraging her to press down into him. So she did, allowing herself to relax a little bit as Joel moaned against her clit, his tongue sweeping through her wetness as she cried out. She could practically feel the way his lips curled up in that infuriatingly charming smirk. As long as it was pressed against that spot, it wasn’t so bad, she decided. “Joel!” Avery cried out, her hips pressing more insistently into him as she felt the pressure begin to build up between her legs. She could feel her sex begin to

pulse and dampen further as she got closer and closer to the edge, murmuring Joel’s name like the sweetest prayer on her lips. “Oh my god!” she cried out as she fell over the edge, her nails clawing at the headboard and her voice going raw with her screams. “Fuck!” His tongue lapped at her, licking up all the wetness that suddenly flooded his mouth as she rode it, prolonging her orgasm as much as she could, before her body finally let out one last shudder and she swung her leg back over, resting her back against the headboard and tugging Joel’s head into her lap. She gazed down at him, chuckled as he licked the wetness off of his lips. “You are amazing, do you know that?” she breathed, leaning down to press her lips to his. “So,” kiss, “so,” kiss, “fucking,” kiss, “amazing.” Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she sniffled, shaking her head as she pulled back. “I…” Before she could get the words out, Joel pressed one finger to her lips. “Please,” he sighed. “Please don’t. Just…don’t.” He knew exactly what she was going to say and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to handle it. He knew that if she said what they both knew she was going to say, he would never do what they both knew he was going to have to do. “Just…” he trailed off as he pulled her back down, pressing his lips to hers and tugging at her bare body until she laid fully down next to him. Avery raised one leg, draping it over his thigh as she welcomed him back between her legs, rolling to her back. They didn’t speak anymore after that. *****



The sun was starting to creep over the horizon when Avery awoke in his arms. Joel’s chest was moving up and down at an even pace. His heart beat under her ear and her entire body seemed to ache with both pleasure and pain. Their bare bodies were pressed together so firmly that it felt as if they were one and she never wanted to be separated from him again. It was a strange feeling; one that she’d never had before. She’d never felt like this for any person, man or woman. For a long time, she didn’t even know if she was capable of this kind of emotion; connections like this were like a myth to her. She’d rolled her eyes at romance novels and movies and made faces at couples who kissed each other like their lives depended on it in the middle of the street, just saying goodbye. But now… Now she knew how they felt. She understood that need to stay connected to the one you loved as long as possible. She knew that what she felt for Joel was that very same love and that she likely would never feel anything like that again, whether she remembered this feeling or not. Either way, she knew that she would miss it. She could already feel it slipping away. Suddenly, Avery couldn’t breathe. She peeled herself away from Joel’s strong arms and scrambled out of bed, tugging the sheets with her and wrapping them around her bare body like a cloak, shrouding herself in their warmth and comfort. She bit her lip as tears flooded her eyes for probably the millionth time that night and her chest tightened. She could feel a panic attack coming on quick and she forced herself to breathe through it, pacing

the small, open space of her studio. The curtain of her bedroom was still open so she walked out into the living room, trying to take in as much air as possible as she circled the kitchen island, her chest moving slowly with her breaths. She didn’t know if she could do this. She didn’t know if she could just let herself…forget. How could she forget everything that had happened in the last two days? How could she forget everything that had been building for the last two months? How could he? She walked away from the island and turned to look out the living room window, staring down at the city as it just started to wake up. The street below was already busy, cars and delivery trucks and taxis racing up and down, already going about their business. At the side of the road she could see a man kneeling next to a motorcycle, checking the engine and wiping sweat off of his brow. He wore a tight leather jacket over broad shoulders and she could clearly see a gun holster on his belt. She wondered what his story was as he turned and looked up towards the still-darkened sky, his face half-shrouded in the light grey of dawn. Even from where she was standing, several stories up, she could tell the man was handsome. His hair was a bit long and he had the beginnings on a beard covering his jaw, but his brown eyes were soulful and there was confidence in his gait and he straddled the bike and revved the engine. Then he was gone, leaving nothing but a cloud of smoke in his wake. “Avery?”

She paused mid-step at the sound of his voice, gruff and sleepy and just above a whisper. Avery turned to see Joel standing in the center of her apartment, shirtless and wearing only his rumpled, torn boxers which may as well not have been there at all. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his bright blue eyes squinted at her in confusion, his brows furrowed adorably. He looked so… harmless. Despite the scars on his body, both old and new. Despite the muscles in his arms and torso and his broad shoulders. Despite the hands that could kill her in seconds if he so wished and the intense blue eyes that still made her shiver. Despite everything about him that screamed predator…she had a deep knowledge that Joel Harper would never lay a finger on her. She was safe with him. She had no reason to believe this, but, somehow, she just…knew it. “Avery?” At the sound of her name for the second time, she broke from her thoughts and raised her gaze to meet his, the tears that had been gathering in her eyes finally spilling out over her cheeks, though her lips curved up in a grin. “Are you okay?” Joel asked, taking a step towards her. Avery nodded, mirroring him, then taking several more steps forward as she reached out for him, raising her hands to cup his jaw in her soft palms as she stopped right in front of him, looking up into his sleep-softened eyes. She searched them for a long moment, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she took a deep breath.

“I don’t want to forget,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “What?” Joel asked, his eyes widening in shock and confusion. His hands pressed against her hips, stroking her skin through her sheet. “What are you—” Avery surged forward, swallowing the rest of his sentence. Joel didn’t resist, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her as firmly against his body as she could possibly get. When he pulled away, he was smirking down at her. “What was that for?” he asked. “What…are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Avery assured him, tears still shining in her eyes. “I just…I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget tonight. Or last night. Or any of the time we’ve spent together this entire weekend. I don’t want to forget that you’re a wolf and I don’t want to forget that you were ever such a huge part of my life. And I don’t want to forget how much I…” “Avery,” Joel tried, pressing his finger to her lips. She batted his hand away from her mouth. “I love you,” she said, firmly. “And I don’t want to forget it.” “But you said—” “I know,” Avery sighed, shaking her head. “I know what I said. But I can’t…” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I can’t stand the thought of forgetting you, of working next to you every single day and never knowing…” She took another deep breath. “I just can’t. And I can’t let you do that either. Because even if I forgot, you would remember. And you would know. And you

would be in pain. And I can’t…I can’t let you do that. So I don’t want to forget.” She took a deep breath. “Please don’t make me forget.” Joel regarded her for a long moment, searching her tear-filled eyes for confirmation that this was exactly what she wanted. He found nothing but honesty and love reflected back at him. Her face was completely unguarded. So he sighed, leaning down to press his lips softly against hers, his hands cupping her cheeks, thumbs rubbing away her tears. Avery wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed him in, one of her hands stroking through his hair. When he pulled back, Joel took a deep, shuddering breath and he leaned his forehead against Avery’s. “As you wish.” THE END

Thank you! Thank you so much for reading my novel. Please do me the honor of reviewing this book in the Amazon store. P.S. Max Stormwell is out for revenge. After losing his father to the ruthless leader of a bike gang known as the Cottonmouths, he swears to end the life of the man who’s

taken everything from him, Caesar Alvarez. When he returns to the town where his father was killed, he has only one place to stay; Carlisle’s Pub, run by Regina Carlisle, the beautiful owner and barmaid. Regina is fiery and stubborn, but there’s something about her that Max just can’t resist—even if she tries like hell to resist him. They’re drawn together and it’s not long before the sparks between them turn into a ragining inferno. But is that really the best idea for either of them? Find out in Jolie Day’s next romance novel: „OUTLAW: Hell’s Seven MC“. Sample on the next page.

Or visit Jolie Day’s author page on Amazon.

New Release Sample Who does this biker think he is? He comes into my inn and demands that I give him my spare room? Can’t even ask for it, like a human being? I don’t care how handsome he is. I don’t care how big his muscles are or how many tattoos are inked on his skin. I don’t care that he’s obviously packing heat (and I’m not talking about the gun on his hip).

I don’t even care that he’s part of some kind of biker gang. I promised myself to stay away from men—especially men who look as good as him… Disclaimer: OUTLAW is a full-length 200 page standalone bad boy biker romance novel with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger. Contains mature themes and language. Sample: Carlisle’s Pub was as packed as it always was on a Saturday night and Regina Carlisle was as prepared as ever—that is to say, not at all. She couldn’t understand why—no matter how many times it happened or how much alcohol she ordered ahead of time—the bar always ran out before closing time at three AM. Every week, she found herself reaching into her own stash of scotch and whiskey and tequila and serving it to her customers, both old and new, for crappy tips and crass remarks about her ass. She didn’t expect much more out of a bunch of drunks, though. When she was a child, her father had owned Carlisle’s and ran it with a skilled hand and an intelligent mind. She had spent many a night perched on her own stool, watching him mix drinks and joke with the patrons. Her mother worked there as a waitress, carrying drinks back and forth and running her hand over Regina’s back as

she passed. She made Shirley Temples for her daughter and helped her out with any homework that Regina had spread over the bar in front of her. Regina’s father, Danny, would sneak kisses over the bar top and Regina would cover her eyes and stick out her tongue, calling them “gross”, but secretly she’d be watching through the spaces between her fingers. Ever since she was a child, she wanted a love like that. “Hey, baby, can I get a shot o’ whiskey over here!” Regina blinked out of her thoughts and turned towards the gruff voice, sighing at the sight of one of her regulars smirking over at her. Jimmy Porter was one of the more recognized town drunks and he practically had one of her barstools molded to his ass, he was here so often. Regina found herself wondering where he got the money to drink from open to close, but she’d never really questioned it out loud. After all, he always paid. “What have I told you about calling me that, Jimmy?” she sighed, reaching under the bar for the whiskey and frowning when she saw that there was barely enough for a couple more shots, despite the fact that it had been completely full just an hour ago. She bit the inside of her cheek and reached for his shot glass, topping it up for him. “Your mom never minded,” Jimmy responded, fisting the glass and raising it to his eyes like it held the secret to life. “I’m not my mother,” Regina pointed out, reaching for her own shot glass and pouring herself some whiskey. She might as well get some for herself before she

completely ran out. “That’s a shame,” Jimmy huffed, then raised his glass in her direction. “Here’s to Pam; God rest her soul.” Regina sighed and clinked the rim of her glass to his, before they both downed their respective shots. The burn of the whiskey felt good as it slid down her throat. It was always her favorite. Her father’s, too. Regina shook her head and took a deep breath. “Rest in peace,” she agreed, her voice soft and reverent. Both of her parents had passed away within months of each other. Her father had died in a car crash and her mother had died of a cancer that had plagued her body for years. Regina was fresh out of college when she inherited Carlisle’s and instead of selling the bar—as many of her friends had suggested—she had decided to carry on her father’s—and grandfather’s, before him— legacy. She’d learned, first-hand, how to pour and mix drinks and had even helped her mother as a waitress to pay for college. She wasn’t yet as skillful as her father, who’d ran the bar for over thirty years and went to school for bartending when he was younger than she, but Regina did alright. She’d been running this business for over half a decade now and she hadn’t come close to shutting down yet. But that didn’t mean everything was easy. She had yet to find a waitress that she liked—most of the ones that passed through her bar were young and just looking to make a little spending cash on the

weekends; they didn’t take the job seriously and she’d often caught them sneaking sips on the clock, stealing from her—and her current girl was named Brandy (ironically). She had long blonde hair and even longer legs. She was as graceful as a ballerina, but often got distracted by some of Regina’s tougher patrons. Regina was also certain that Brandy was the reason she so often ran out of alcohol before the night was up. As much as she’d tried to teach Brandy how to pour and how much alcohol was to be used in mixed drinks, she was sure that the blonde used too much. She’d chastised her about it several times, but Regina wasn’t exactly in a position to be hiring or firing anybody at the moment. Brandy, at least, was willing to work for a below-average salary and was a real hit with the guys that played pool in the corner. In addition to the bar, Carlisle’s also had two rooms for rent on the second floor. Regina had grown up watching people climb up and down those rickety old steps in the back. Musicians and bikers and sometimes amorous couples—who only ever rented the room for a couple of hours at a time—were a staple in her life. When she was growing up, her father also hired a maid to come in once a day, after the last guests had left, to tidy up the room and switch out the sheets and towels in the bathroom. Her name was Barbara and she worked for less than she deserved, but Danny Carlisle had always given her a free meal and drinks and she’d been satisfied. When Regina’s parents died, Barbara had continued to work until she could no longer stand on her arthritic knees. Regina still invited her to the bar for drinks on the house and dinner once a week. After Barb, though, she

decided that a maid was unnecessary for work she could get done herself. It was tough for a young woman to run a bar and inn herself, but she got through the work week and still had energy to stand for the long Saturday night shift, which would come to an end in about…ten minutes. Regina breathed out a sigh of relief and reached for a washcloth, starting the process of cleaning off the bar top. “Alright, everybody,” she called, raising her voice as much as possible in the boisterous bar. “Last call!” The men playing at the pool table looked up and gave her their usual glares, but they finished off their game and she ignored the way money changed hands. Brandy made one last sweep around the room, returning with closed tabs and gave Regina her last drink orders. The older woman poured the last of her tequila and scotch into shots and lamented the loss, but welcomed the extra profits, shoving them into the pocket of her apron as she went back to wiping down the bar. One by one, the patrons started to filter out of the pub and Regina felt her shoulders begin to relax with the release of tension as the noise began to dissipate and she felt herself breathing a bit more easily. It was always like this at the end of the night, when she finally got to relax on a Saturday night, instead of work. She didn’t really mind the work so much, but it could get overwhelming at times—especially when she was constantly running out of her own alcohol. “Have a nice night, baby,” Jimmy said, slapping a generous tip down on the bar top and giving her a wink (which looked more like a twitch, honestly) and slipping off his stool. He had a surprisingly straight walk for a man

who’s stomach contents were 60% whiskey and 40% bar peanuts, but he’d always been like that. And he always left a good tip. Regina plucked the fifty-dollar bill off the bar and slipped it into her back pocket. She watched as the last few patrons started to taper off and Brandy cleaned off the tables and shoved her own tips into her apron. By the time she returned to the bar, Regina had already swept off the entire bar, tossing every piece of trash and peanut shell into the garbage bin she kept hidden away. Brandy handed over the dirty shot glasses and Regina placed them into the sink, to be cleaned the next day after her guests in the inn left and she cleaned the sheets. “Have a good night, Brandy,” Regina said. “Get home safely, love.” “Good night, Reg,” Brandy replied, getting her purse from behind the bar and hanging up her apron after relieving it of her tips. She folded them and placed them in her purse pocket. Brandy was out of the door with three minutes to spare before Regina even had to lock up. She walked around the bar and grabbed the broom, sweeping up whatever mess was left on the floor. Thankfully, there weren’t too many spills tonight. She was just starting to place the chairs on tabletops when she heard the door to the bar open and close and she sighed, turning around. “We’re closed,” she said. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow. Besides, we’re out of alcohol, too.”

“I didn’t come here for a drink, sweetheart,” a deep, gravelly voice said. Regina looked up at a tall, muscular man in a leather jacket and wearing several tattoos—and a gun at his waist—as he lifted his brow at her and gave her a handsome grin. She frowned at him. “Then what did you come here for?” she asked, placing one hand on her hip. The man pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. “I need a room,” he said, placing his opposite hand on his gun. “And you’re gonna give me one.” End of the Sample ♥ Available in Amazon Stores. Visit Jolie Day’s author page or OUTLAW: Hell’s Seven MC. “HEA but a twist that has you hooked.” “Great plot line, great characterization, well-written. Not to be missed!” “Chemistry for DAYS!!” “Such a good storyline with plenty of steamy scenes. Couldn’t put it down, read all in one sitting.” “I was hooked from the beginning!” “ENJOYABLE BOOK!!!!!” Please stay tuned for updates about the MC series, as well as about my other books, so you don’t miss out – it

will get very, very steamy… Kind regards, Jolie Day

About the Author Here’s a bit more about me: my name is Jolie Day and I was born and raised in sunny Miami, FL. I live with my boyfriend of seven years and my fur baby Rosie, a golden retriever. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have a book in my hands. That’s how I ended up becoming an author. This love of reading turned into a love for writing and, after high school, I enrolled in the University of Miami and majored in Journalism. I’ve worked as an editor for a few small publications, but I‘m currently working full-time as a freelance writer. My absolute favorite genre to write is Romance, more specifically BBW romance stories, and sometimes even paranormal romance novels – there’s no rule that spirits can’t be sexy! I heart romance and I hope you do as well! Thank you once more for all of your emails and your support. Happy reading! To visit my Facebook page click here. Until next time, Jolie Day



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