NSFW - Piper Lawson(ang)

Table of Contents Epilogue Epilogue Two (Bonus!) Prologue

NSFW

PIPER LAWSON

NSFW Being bad never felt so good... The office is full of rules. Everything is offlimits. Making a charity calendar of the sexy guys on your floor? Not allowed. Shrinking your boss’ underwear when he sends it for dry-cleaning? Can’t do that either. But those things keep the natural balance. See, Avery Banks, our resident rising star, is a shark. The tall, blond, and gorgeous kind with zero patience and even less forgiveness. Good thing I’m the Mae West of executive assistants. I live to put grown men in their place. He wasn’t supposed to find out... Now he’s made it his personal vendetta to screw me the way I screwed him. I’m at his beck and call, 24/7, for every humiliating, meaningless request. Until we stumble on a new game. And once we start…I’m not sure Avery wants to replace me. I’m not sure I want him to. All I want is more of this. It’s twisted, and so damn hot. But he’s my boss.

And with the company coming off a scandal even I couldn’t engineer? What we’re doing is strictly NSFW. Lucky for me, Avery and I have one thing in common... We both suck at following the rules.

1

IT’S PROUNOUNCED “SWEETASS”

I

t’s amazing. The power of two little words. Like “Fuck me,” uttered by a guy you’re hot for. Or “Do it,” from someone who has power over you. Or even “Trust me,” from someone you want to believe in, even though you shouldn’t. In my case, the two little words were: “You’re fired.” I hear you. You’re saying, “Charlie, that’s three words with a contraction.” I’ll forgive you for thinking that. I won’t forgive grammar. Fuck grammar. Grammar didn’t just get fired. I did. My chest tightened, the knot twisting and building on itself until it stretched my ribs.

“What did you say?” The usual I don’t give a shit was missing from my voice. The man in front of me shifted in his chair, a look of dark satisfaction on his hard face. “You’re fired. You have twelve hours to put my files in order and pack up your things. Take so much as a stapler and HR will tackle you on the sidewalk.” They say your life slows down before you die. Well, it’s true. You think stupid things, too. Things like he’s too pretty to be such a dick. Whoever did the creating shouldn’t have wasted that hard jaw. The full mouth. The blue eyes. I couldn’t be fired. Except it was happening. I was the one person around here who saw everything coming. I could tell who’d hook up at Throwdown Thursday after work. Who’d crush their business development targets. Who was in line for a promotion… I hadn’t seen this. It was cruel. And unjust. And complete and utter bullshit. There was no way I could’ve seen it coming. Right?

Earlier

“Aren’t you hot enough to melt an igloo?” The man wiped the sweat from his brow, wincing in his polyester pants and company shirt. “It’s ninety-two.” “Degrees?” “Dollars. And fifty cents.” The heat wave had been going on for weeks with no sign of breaking. I reached for my pocket, realizing my paintedon skirt didn’t have any. “How’s eighty?” “You new around here? This isn’t a negotiation. We’re a printing company.” I fished in my bag for my wallet and slapped the bills plus two quarters into his hand. This guy must be new. Fred always negotiated. “You want the Alliance corporate discount but you’re not paying on account?” I smiled, and the suspicion on his face fell away. “This is private business. Top secret.” “Right. Have a good day, Miss…” he glanced at the invoice “…Svethauss.” “It’s pronounced Sweetass.” First rule of survival: Never give your real name.

He disappeared out the doors, but all my attention was on the white cardboard box. I felt like Indiana Jones lifting the lid of the Ark. The sensation started at my toes, crept up my legs, and slid over my stomach, my chest, my breasts. Traffic flowed around me as suits made a beeline for the elevators or cafeteria. My attention was on the cardboard. I pulled back the lid, an inch at a time, and peered inside. Oh, baby. That’s what I’m talking about. I’d started to sweat from the heat ebbing in through the doors at the front of the building. Wiping back a spot where my hair had started sticking behind my ear, I put the lid back on the box and shifted it onto the dolly I’d brought from eight. My Ferragamo sandals clicked on the marble floors. Walking in these was an art I’d perfected at an early age. Unfortunately, there’s a difference between art and science. Pushing my prize toward the elevators, I caught one of my new spike heels where the marble met the carpet and yanked it off. For a building housing a financial institution, we were cheap as hell at keeping up with maintenance. Our CEO, Hollister, was a “form over function” guy. Waterfall in the lobby, surrounded by three wood-looking pods? Necessary. Carpet that stays stuck to the ground? Meh.

We’re a bank. Not Google. I bent to inspect the cap that’d popped off the strappy purple heels. “Do you need a hand?” The woman looking down at me was half my size. Judging from her pressed outfit, she was, in fact, a grown-up. However, if she’d had pigtails, I would’ve thought she was an escapee from a Broadway production of Annie. “With my shoe?” “With your box.” She motioned toward the dolly. “Sure,” I said, even though I didn’t. “You work at Alliance?” “Started this morning. I’m a temp.” Her voice was quiet but her bright eyes said she was sweet under the nerves. She stuck out a tiny hand with short, tidy nails. “Rose.” “Charlie. Don’t call me Charlotte or you’ll regret it. What?” I went on as she stared. “You look like one of those YouTube girls with her own make-up channel. Or the clackers from Devil Wears Prada.” My grams liked to say there were two good things I’d got from my mom. The mane of blond hair that couldn’t decide if it wanted to wave or curl, and long legs that made any skirt look about as wide as a hair elastic. There was a corporate dress code in this place

that was not written anywhere. But I kept thinking if I snuck up on the right person, I’d catch them reading Sensible Heels Weekly. Nothing in my closet was sensible. Today what’d made it onto my body while I’d groped for coffee like a bat in the sun was a black pencil skirt with a slit up the back long enough to make my neighbor blush. A coral silk sleeveless blouse that skimmed over my boobs. Plus my Ferragamos. Senseless victims of some cheap-ass nylon masquerading as industrial berber. I surveyed New Girl. She was sweet and earnest and I should’ve been hightailing it the other way. But something had me asking, “Who do you work for?” like I cared. “Armand Banks. He’s a director on eight, and —” My phone rang and I answered without looking. “Charlie.” “Strange,” a masculine voice replied immediately. “Charlotte is also the name of my assistant, but she’s nowhere to be found. Certainly not proofreading the slides I sent thirty minutes ago.” I leaned an elbow on the back of the cart. “I’m working on it as we speak.” It was already done. Telling him that would be too easy, though. “You sound out of breath.”

“I’m working really hard.” I wedged the phone between my shoulder and my ear, bending to pull of one shoe, then the other. I set them on top of the box and straightened. “You’re going to be late for the department meeting.” He clicked off without waiting for a response. I tucked my phone back into my bag. The Alliance building was full of mid-day traffic that had the new conservative down—suits, pantyhose, black shoes, gelled hair—and cell phones attached to their heads. “How long have you worked here?” New Girl ventured as she followed me to the elevator, scooting ahead to hold the door for me. “A while.” “So you know the old CEO? I heard he might go to jail for fraud.” I lifted a shoulder but she kept talking. “Guess it’s not the best time to work here, but it’s always been my dream to work at a bank. It’s such an important industry, you know? Traditional. Respected. I mean, you get to look after people’s money. Their future. What higher calling is there than that?” We had the elevator to ourselves, so I swiveled to face her. The fact that I was in bare feet and she had heels on brought our eyes nearly level. “Hollister—“ I referred to our former leader “—fell for a set of plastic tits that just happened to

work for another financial institution. He leaked confidential information on some of our biggest clients.” Her tidy brows shot up. “If there’s one thing that competes with money? It’s ass.” Her gaze dropped to the box. “What’s in there?” I stroked the top of the box, a smile pulling at my mouth. “Karma.” Her curious expression had me going on. “Working for these uptight Type-A’s is like parenting. Give them what they want, we all descend into chaos. Give them what they need—to be reminded they are not the center of the universe —the world keeps turning.” “And what do you get out of it?” I glanced down at the top of the box, the tingling starting again. “An unparalleled sense of joy and inner peace.” My floor had been renovated the second year I was here. The long hallway from the elevator was lined with offices, most with glass walls. I blinked at the ray of sun that streamed in the new skylights. Our floor was the top, save for the exec tower that was three more stories on one-half of the building. Someone’s great idea was to put windows in the roof. Windows that now leaked, as evidenced by the fact that the carpet outside my cubicle made squishy noises when you stepped on it. I winced as my bare foot hit a wet patch. Great.

This morning’s runoff was now wedged around last week’s pedicure. Rose followed me into my cubicle. “You’re the first person here who’s been nice to me. I don’t think my boss even knows my name. The last place I worked I had a mentor. You know, someone to show me how things worked.” She bit her lip and I cringed. No, no, fuck no. “Can I come to you? You know, if I need help with things?” Her fresh face tilted up to me, a painfully earnest expression on it. That’s what you get for being nice. I started to say no. I swear I did. What came out was, “Yeah. Sure.” But when her worried face dissolved into relief, I couldn’t take it back. “New Girl, shit’s about to get real. Can I trust you?” Her eyes widened. “Of course.” “I have something to help you through the rough patches.” I glanced around before lifting the lid of the box. Then pulled out the top of the stack. “Banker Babes calendar?” She started flipping through the pages of half-naked guys. “It’s a little project I organize every year.” “It’s June.” “Yeah, but they sold so well last year I wanted to get a head start. It includes an extra page for

September to December. Back to school and all.” I looked over her shoulder at the pages, one after the other. All of them attractive. Many of them shirtless. “Wow. These guys work here?” “Mhmm.” “They volunteered to be in this.” I made a noncommittal noise as I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and fished out a pair of white Fendi pumps with gold studs. My feet slipped into them easily. “They’re too busy obsessing over whether they made new business targets this quarter to worry about our little…projects.” She stopped on July. “Holy hot on a stick. Is that man even real?” I peered over her shoulder at the guy wearing only swim trunks and a hot as hell grin. “Sadly, yes.” I carefully moved the box under my desk. Rose’s wide eyes lifted to my face. “Who are you?” “I told you. I’m Charlie. And we’re late.”

2

IT’S LIKE HIGH SCHOOL. OR WENTWORTH

T

he Roosevelt room was packed with suits when we filtered in. Still, a few heads turned to look. Probably because this meeting—like all of them—was a sausagefest. And this one was standing dicks only. We slid into an empty space in the corner, trying to fly under the radar of the thick-built man with a bald patch who was addressing the room. “Mr. Clean over there? That’s the new CEO,” I murmured. “Tanner Redpath. He runs ultramarathons or something. He’s a turnaround guy, which means he helicopters in when someone else fucks up and puts a company back on the straight and narrow. He started after they took the last one away in handcuffs.” “I’m looking forward to getting to know each of

you. But I’m not here to talk about me.” Redpath’s voice was low but throaty, like he’d been shouting the night before. “I was appointed by the board for a reason. We must look forward and transform this organization into one the public can trust. The hit our share price took after the departure of Mr. Hollister and the media backlash cannot happen again. “We’re rebuilding this bank stronger and better than ever. I’m appointing leaders in each department who will be the face of this transformation. For corporate banking, that will be Mr. Banks.” I expected the man approaching the head of the table to be Armand Banks, New Girl’s dickhead boss. The senior director with wandering eyes also had about thirty years too many to be looking at any of the assistants like that. But the man who sucked the air from the room wasn’t Armand. They might’ve shared a family name, but this one was younger, with dirty blond hair instead of gray. Plus broad shoulders. Abs you could bounce an iPhone on. A tailored charcoal suit that skimmed his body in a way that made you instantly sure he’d look even better out of it. “Oh my God. That’s him,” Rose murmured excitedly. “Mr. July.” I glanced at her hand that

clutched my arm. “Thank you, Mr. Redpath.” Avery Banks’ voice, low, confident, echoed off the walls. The new CEO shook his hand and slipped out of the meeting. Avery watched Redpath go before turning back to us. He stood, hands clasped behind his back and that tic in his jaw that meant he wanted to find someone and hang them from the ceiling by their toes. “We have a problem.” Avery’s low voice echoed off the walls, including the glass one separating the room from the hall. “You might be thinking that it’s Mr. Hollister’s problem. That our former chief executive made a misguided decision and is now facing the consequences.” A few heads nodded. “You’re wrong. Because what started as Hollister’s problem is now your problem. Everyone from investors to clients is looking at us like we’re a pariah. They’re taking their money and running. Fast. “At the request of Mr. Redpath, I will be working with the small and medium business banking group to communicate our vision of the future. A future of transparency and authenticity.” He didn’t sound happy about it. In fact, he sounded like this problem had crawled up his ass and hosted a children’s birthday party, complete with piñata.

“Whether you’re an associate or support staff, if this department’s new business numbers fall by a single percent, we’ll start losing you. I don’t care how long you’ve been here. Or what you do. It’s time for everyone to take responsibility. Your kids, your hamsters, your vacations? All of it comes second. Starting now.” My boss, ladies and gentlemen. The face of an angel. The body of a god. The charm of venereal disease. I glanced over at New Girl. Her eyes were glazed over like Avery had just finished rescuing an orphan from a tree. Shirtless. I held in an eye roll. In case you’re wondering how it’s possible to have a mini-O looking at the man while he’s threatening to cut loose the entire department? Let me lay it out for you. Avery Banks won the genetic lottery, with shampoo commercial hair, big hands, a straight nose, and a mouth that’s firm in all variations of frowning and pursed (its only tricks). Add to that a tall frame he’s trained into broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a six pack I’d only seen in the photos we swiped for the calendar? He’s got the goods. But that’s only skin deep. Pretty boys aren’t dangerous unless they come with brains to match the brawn. The ones who do… they know it. They use it.

“Now, if there are no questions—” Avery didn’t pause to see if there were “—let’s get back to work and prove why we’re here.” “Wow,” Rose offered as we filtered out. “He’s really inspiring.” I snorted. “Were we in the same room?” “Yes. He has that commanding leadership thing going on. Plus, he looks even better in real life than he does in that calendar.” I cornered her. “No one finds out about that. There’s a vow between the assistants on seven and eight.” My gaze ran over her pale skin. “We’ll skip the blood oath today. You’re new, and you don’t look like you’d clot.” Her eyes were the size of the cinnamon buns in the bakery down the street. By the time I started for the door, most of the room had cleared. She fell into step next to me. “Are you worried about all that stuff? It did sound like a state of emergency.” “Everything’s an emergency. Printer toner gets two bucks more expensive. Someone forgets to refill the stash of coffee filters in the kitchen. Walgreens runs out of that hair wax the associates like.” I paused at her cubicle, leaning over the top and ignoring the flow of traffic behind us. “You want staying power? You become a cat, New Girl. I have nine lives. Arrogant dicks come and go. What stays the same is me, because I’m a survivor.

“Alliance might look like any other bank. But it has its own culture and subculture, a set of rules that aren't written in any book. Like high school. Or Wentworth. If Redpath is anything like Hollister, he won’t bother to learn anyone’s name. Next are the VPs. They’re almost as AWOL. The men who really run the ship are the directors. And I mean the ‘men.’ Of the twelve directors, two are chicks. Of the ten left, most of them are dicks. Yes, that includes your boss—who’s my boss’s uncle.” “Thanks for the orientation,” she said, blinking. “Sure. And hey. No matter what they say to you? Keep your chin up.” I’d been trying to tip the balance in this place, but I was starting to think it might take more than my working life to make a dent in the ceiling. (Not including the leaky skylight. Squish, squish.) I left Rose at her desk and walked the perimeter of the hive, the set of a dozenish cubicles that took up the open space on our floor. A few people glanced up and nodded to me. I picked up my mail at the mailbox in the corner of the office. A bunch of inter-office memos. Plus a pale blue envelope. My heart stopped as I stared at the delicate paper. I didn’t need to open it or look at the return address to know what it was. I blew out a long breath, willing my stomach to

settle. I’ll deal with this later. When I rounded the corner of my cubicle, my chair was already occupied. Long, muscled legs extended in front of him. His hands were clasped loosely at his front. Hard, cold eyes glinted like diamonds out of a razor-sharp face. Avery Banks might be built like an athlete, but if I learned he played a team sport, I’d die of shock. He’s the Yoko of our entire office. “This seat taken? Don’t let me interrupt.” “Don’t even think about walking away.” I set the stack of mail on the desk in front of him. He rose, stepping closer to tower over me even in my heels. The sharp expression on his face was different from the one he’d had in the conference room because it was leveled at me. The look of disdain was for my benefit alone. “You were late for this department’s first interaction with our new CEO.” “I made it in time for your remarks. Which was my top priority.” The sincere-o-meter in my head lit up like Boston Harbor on the Fourth of July, but a muscle in his right-angle jaw ticked. “Avery.” Both our heads snapped around as Redpath approached.

My boss straightened automatically. “Sir.” “I enjoyed our meeting. Wish I could’ve stayed. Look forward to seeing your progress and continuing to talk about that opportunity at your performance review next month.” “Of course.” Redpath smiled, nodding to Avery and me before turning to leave. “Why are you staring at my nose?” Avery demanded when Redpath had gone. “I thought there was something on it...” I couldn’t resist reaching toward Avery’s face, but he swatted my finger out of the air. The noise in his throat was more of a growl than a word. “My office. Now.” I liked the growl, I decided as I followed him toward his office, my four-inch heels letting me keep up. I pulled the door shut after me and watched him cross to his chair. Here’s the thing. As much as Avery and I get along like red wine and Tide-to-Go? Working for this man didn’t one hundred percent suck. Avery Banks was the hottest piece of ass to ever walk the halls of this hundred-year-old building. But he was also not entirely without positive attributes. He went after what he wanted, even if he did it in the wrong way. When you talked to him,

his attention was so intense, like he wanted to soak up every word and every scrap of body language from your conversation that might help him. Plus his mind worked at light speed. It wasn’t always clear what it was working on, but you could tell it was working on something. Still, he might as well have had “not my type” tattooed over every inch of his muscled body. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was condescension. No—narrow mindedness. Or maybe a painfully lacking sense of humor. If it wasn’t for The Tie, I’d have written him off entirely. The purple one that was more like lavender. It shouldn’t have looked good on a man, but it made him look like a prince. When he kept his mouth shut for more than two seconds, I started to imagine he was misunderstood, not an asshole. The Tie nearly always came with the grey suit. Together, it was a cannon to the lady parts. Thank God I’d never seen him in black tie. Avery in a tux might have made me melt from hotness overload. But I’d run out of the room first, because damn if I’d ever give him the satisfaction. He wasn’t wearing The Tie today. This one was coral, which still gave him serious style points. It also made his eyes look wicked blue. “Do you know why you’re here?” His voice jolted me back to the present. I bit my

lip. “Trying to decide what to get Redpath for his birthday? I hear he loves Castle and long walks on the beach.” Avery’s eyes flashed. “This is not about Redpath. It’s about you.” He steepled his hands in front of him. “I know what you’ve been doing, Charlotte. And you are in a shit ton of trouble.”

3

DIRTY THINGS IN THE GUEST BATHROOM

“E

lvis.” Avery said the word under his breath, but it reverberated in my

brain. I cleared my throat. “Elvis?” My boss shifted over his desk, braced on his arms like a predator cornering its prey. Avery’s office was big enough to fit a desk, couch and chair, and a coffee table, but it suddenly felt smaller. “Do you know what happened when I went on that business trip to Memphis last week?” I lifted a shoulder. “I asked you to order me appropriate clothes. Do you know what showed up.” He clicked on his phone, stretching out an arm

to show a picture. I squinted to make out the outfit in the photo. Just like I would if I didn’t know it was an Elvis costume, complete with rhinestone collar. “Vintage,” I offered. “That is not my suit. You know what kind of suits I wear.” The rage in his voice had me biting my cheek. So here’s the thing. You might call my little jokes ‘pranks’. But they don’t hurt anyone, really. They’re intended to help level the playing field. Karma isn’t fast enough so I step in. “When I asked for something regionally appropriate, I meant nubuck shoes,” he went on. “Not rhinestones.” I swallowed the hiccup of laughter. “If this was the only time, I might’ve thought it was a mistake. But there have been others.” Avery ticked off his fingers as he rounded the desk. “The catered roast beef luncheon for my meeting last month that ended up being vegan delight.” “The new corporate environmental policy. Soy has lower carbon emissions than beef.” “The time you booked me to speak about fiscal reform to the Girl Scouts of America.” “You always say this country is still recovering from the financial crisis. I figured it’s never too early for an education.” Avery shoved his hands in the pockets of his

pants like he was going to strangle me if he didn’t. He started down the row of windows that lined the back of his office. His strides were measured, but tension emanated from every inch of him. “If I wasn’t so sure it was sabotage, I’d call it incompetence,” Avery tossed over his shoulder. This is it. My chance. “Maybe this is a fit issue. Things haven’t been easy the past few months. You’re under all this pressure with Hollister’s arrest. I could go back to working for Payton.” I used to split my time amongst three associates, including Avery and my friend Payton. Six weeks ago Avery had stopped by my cubicle to notify me that I had three days to offload the rest of my assignments because I was working for him. Fulltime. That was it. No asking if that was what I wanted. I’d called HR, who’d told me the decision had been made and I had no choice in the matter. If I’d been acting out more since…could you blame me? “Your job is to assist me. Not to advise me. Not to impose your skewed sense of the world on this place,” he bit out. Avery stopped in front of me, his hard chest inches away. “There are two ways to accomplish anything,

Charlotte. The easy way or the hard way.” Images of the nearly two years I’d known him replayed in my mind’s eye. His refusal to fill out any paperwork, but explosions if the rest of us didn’t file his expense claims alphabetically. His denial of my last two vacation requests—even though he’d spent both weeks away on business trips and barely checked in. Most days I could put up with the condescending tone. The derisive looks. This was not most days. I met his angry gaze. “I thought it was your way or your way.” Avery’s nostrils flared. I’d seen him lose his cool, but something told me there was another level. As much as I prided myself on taking any shit these guys dished out, I wasn’t eager to see Avery unleashed. But instead of yelling, his voice dropped. “Let’s talk about your way, Charlotte. You drift around this place like everything is a joke instead of a billion dollar business. You’re a rebel without a cause. The only thing you create is chaos. I thought it was a power trip. It’s not. It’s a goddamned cry for help.” I blinked. Well, that was…personal. I forced myself to meet his steely gaze, despite the feeling I’d been sucker punched. It was doubly

hard given our closeness and the fact that I could smell his cologne, subtle—unlike the man—with each breath. “If you knew I was such a screw-up, Mr. Banks, why did you have me assigned to you in the first place?” It was his turn to look taken aback. “It was an error in judgment. I’m rectifying that now.” He rounded the desk and took a seat in his chair. “You’re fired.” Blood drained from my face. “What did you say?” “I’m in line for the biggest promotion of my life. You are a threat to that. Now,” he bit out, checking his watch, “you have twenty-four hours to put my files in order and pack up your things. Take so much as a stapler and HR will tackle you on the sidewalk.” I tried to ignore the painful pit forming in my stomach. He turned back to his computer, and I willed my feet to carry me out the door.

“Two more G&Ts. Heavy on the G.” The bartender disappeared to fix our drinks. Rose shook her head. “You’re like the liquid assistant. Do you do this every week?” “I’m celebrating.”

Every Thursday, a bunch of Alliance-rs vacated the premises at five pm like clockwork, bound for the bar down the street. Back when I’d started working there, the only social events were the holiday Christmas party and the impromptu drinking that broke out after end-offiscal announcements and when bonuses were handed out. Within a month, I’d realized everyone needed to blow off more steam. So I’d organized the weekly social that meant Alliance took over Throwdown Thursdays at Tilt. Though anyone was welcome, the crowd steered toward young associates, admins, and anybody looking to drink and flirt and burn off some energy. The hierarchy fell away, the layers melted by a common language —bitching and alcohol. “Charlie!” A brunette with a Mila Kunis vibe wove her way through the bodies and up to the bar, wedging in between us. “Sorry I’m late. This client was calling all afternoon, then there was an accident on the bridge. My air conditioning broke and now I’m dripping.” Nothing about her look, from the sleek ponytail down her back to her silk tank and pencil skirt, said she was dripping. But Payton, who’d once been an assistant like me and was now rocking it as an associate, had always possessed an eye for the details. I signaled to the bartender, who started mixing

up a third drink next to the two half-finished ones. “How was the anniversary trip?” “Great. I can’t believe it’s been a year. We went to Max’s parents in Florida, then spent a few days to ourselves. Disney World,” she confessed. “Cartoons and screaming toddlers. Sounds romantic.” “Max loves that kind of thing. I guess it’s the bigger-than-life part.” I envisioned the cool tech CEO Payton had met through work, complete with the glower and the eyebrow piercing. “This practice for when you’re having your own little hellions?” She laughed. “Hardly. Max and his parents are more like you and your parents than me and my mom. So it’s hard for him to picture passing that on. But, we are moving in together.” “Shit. That’s great.” “You think so?” Her rosy face warmed me, her full lips pulling up at the corners. “I mean, you know he moves fast as the line at Macy’s on Black Friday.” “He’s divorced. Comes with the territory.” “God, I needed the good news with all this Alliance drama.” She glanced toward the TV in the corner of the bar. “I’m glad they’ve finally stopped running that feed of Hollister in handcuffs. I’m having to talk clients down on an hourly basis.

Anyway, what’s new with you?” I’d been looking forward to unloading on my friend. But as I stared at her expression, I changed my mind. “Nothing can top that.” Payton realized Rose was there for the first time when the bartender set three drinks in front of us. “I’m sorry, the heat has me sweating like a dog and my brain’s turned to mush. I’m Payton. And I swear I’m not a huge bitch.” “Rose.” Rose leaned over, her dark hair swaying in a curtain over her shoulder. “I’m a temp. I’m filling in for Armand Banks’ assistant starting this week.” We both made faces. “Can I trade my Banks for that one?” she said. I followed her gaze down the bar to where Avery sat with a couple of colleagues. “What does he like?” Rose asked, her voice dreamy. I sucked the pick in my drink. “Pocket squares. Linen. Sadism. Other people’s pain makes him stronger.” Payton snorted. “It’s true. My new assistant, Emma, covered for Charlie when she was out sick one day. Avery rented a car for a business trip, refused insurance, scratched the thing, then yelled at her because he had to pay for it.” Rose’s face clouded. “So why does everyone make like he’s some kind of god?”

“Because he is.” Payton took a sip of her drink. “Alliance upped the performance standards for all associates last year—basically doubled the amount of new business we’re supposed to bring in. Ended up laying off three people because of it.” “He made the cut,” Rose decided. “Two times over. And argued the company should raise the standards again.” Payton shook her head. Disgust and admiration. “How does he do it?” “No one really knows. I always figured he had a lot of connections, with his uncle and having gone to law school. But I don’t think that explains all of it. Charlie?” I shrugged. “The man’s a shark. Lately he’s been spending a lot of time working on some kind of program he says is going to ‘fundamentally transform client relationship management.’” I used air quotes. “New lead generation?” Payton asked, curious. I took in Rose’s blank stare. “Leads are potential clients the associates can follow up with to try and get their business.” Payton nodded in agreement. “And I don’t know if it’s leads.” I try to tune him out when he whips out the soapbox. “But apparently he’s designing it himself.” Rose sighed. “He’s smart and gorgeous.” Payton and I stared at her, and she blushed. “Come on, I can’t be the only one to think that. I was

watching him in that meeting today. He’s that rare kind of guy you can bring home to meet your parents. Then while they’re downstairs congratulating each other for raising such a responsible child, you’re doing dirty things with him in the guest bathroom. He’s not married, is he?” she went on, oblivious to the fact that both Payton and I were staring at her. I shook it off, stirring my drink. “Nope.” “Can I talk to him?” Rose breathed. “Knock yourself out. But don’t blame me when he bites your head off.” She grinned, spinning on her heel and trotting down the bar. I craned my neck to watch for the inevitable crash and burn. As much as I was in a bitchy mood, I still felt responsible for her. “She’s sweet,” Payton offered. “Yes. And her lifelong dream is to work at Alliance. Can you believe it?” “I think she wants to be you.” “She’s welcome to it,” I muttered into my drink. “Admit it,” Payton goaded. “You would miss Avery’s attention if he turned it on Rose.” “What? Not even.” “Come on. You’re the only one he gives the time of day to. Hell, you’re the only one he looks at for longer than two seconds.”

“I’m his assistant.” Was. “Charlie, I’ve known that man since I started here. Every associate—hell, every man who’s not a vice president—wants to be him, and I bet some of the VPs secretly do too. He’s Mr. Confident. Controlled. Contained…except around you. You short-circuit him.” I arched a brow. “And you…you spend every spare moment thinking of how to humiliate him. You say he deserves it. But I think it’s because you’re waiting for the day he finds out. Because that day, the gloves will come off.” She sipped her drink before setting the glass down on the bar. “And I’m guessing a whole lot more than that.” I shoved her in the arm. “Avery Banks wouldn’t look at me that way if I glued hundred dollar bills to my tits and lay naked across his desk.” “He’s not such a bad guy.” “Oh really? Name one thing he’s ever done for you or me.” Payton opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Laughter behind me had me turning. Rose’s head was tilted back as she touched Avery’s arm. He didn’t look irritated. Until his gaze flicked past Rose and landed on me. So much for Payton’s theory. That man didn’t

give a shit about anyone but himself. I definitely was not on his radar. “I need to go,” I said, shifting off my stool. “Lunch tomorrow?” “Um. Yeah. Done.” I ignored the pain that came from realizing it’d be our last one.

4

IS SARCASM A SKILL?

T

he subway ride home was routine enough I could do it in my sleep. The headphones in my ears drowned out the world. The walk from the subway to my place was only a few blocks. I took the stairs up to the third floor, fumbling with the old lock. Inside, I kicked off my heels at the front hall. The Fendis took out another three neatly lined-up pair like a well-planned bowling ball. I left them in a grimly satisfying pile of leopard, snakeskin, sequins, and shiny patent in every color. My apartment might’ve been the size of Avery’s office, but it was in a good neighborhood. It fit my indulgences—shoes, clothes, and nail polish. I crossed the small living room to the kitchen,

skirting the desk that took up one wall. I dropped my bag on the counter and pulled out the blue envelope, staring at the letters again. Then propped it next to the identical blue envelope from two months ago. The pantry was empty, but I found a candle— Moroccan Mint, I decided. Does Morocco really smell like mint? I’d never traveled enough to know. Canandaigua, New York, had been big on wine and steamboat tours but low on opportunities for travel. My phone buzzed on the counter and I lifted the device.

Are you there?

Followed by a poop emoji. I dialed a number. “Hi Grams. What’s with the poop?” “What’s that, Charlie?” “The emoji.” “I thought that was a Hershey’s kiss.” “Close. How’s it hanging?” “It’s hanging fine, dear. We were watching the news tonight and they were talking about your bank. You had a bad man in charge.” Apparently Hollister was still the darling of the

twenty-four-hour news cycle. “He thinks with his dick. Like all men.” “Real men think with their brains. Their genitalia merely offer suggestions.” My stomach growled, and I put the phone on speaker on the counter while I scoured the fridge. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Freezer. Jackpot. “You still up for a visit soon? I’ll bring the Oreos.” I pulled out two frozen waffles from next to the block of cash and stuck them in the toaster. Whoever decided that breakfast food couldn’t be eaten three meals a day was a moron. “Yes. Where are you calling from? Aren’t you at that bar Thursdays?” My grams might be pushing eighty, but she didn’t miss a thing. “Got home a while ago.” “With a man.” Her voice was triumphant. “If I had a man with me, Grams, you think I’d be calling you right now?” “You know, even if you’re not ready to settle down, they have other unique advantages.” I pulled open the drawer in my coffee table to reveal countless little bottles of color. Plus a vibrator. Unique advantages my ass. “You watching Jeopardy with Peter?” “That man spent too long in the navy. The only

literature he knows is limericks about whores and sailors.” “Yeah, well. Peter and I have that in common. Everything OK with you?” “Yes, dear. I’m fine.” “What would Dr. Thatcher say?” “Dr. Thatcher would say anything you want to hear.” I made a face. I don’t like smug white collar guys who act like you should be grateful to breathe their air. “I’ll see you soon, Grams.” I clicked off and set the phone on the white coffee table I’d gotten from my grandparents when they’d downsized. They’d sold their small house to pay for the assisted living home they both lived in for two years. When my grandfather passed away, I spent more time with my grandmother. I could tell she missed him, but I tried to make it less painful for her. I lifted one of the bottles out of the drawer, plus the vibe. How did that get there? Oh yeah. The other night on the couch with that lumberjack documentary. Because once you lumberjack, you don’t lumberback. Most women rub one out to pretty boys. I like guys who work with their hands. Who don’t wear a collar to work. The ones who’ve lived in the world

and survived. Not that I ever ran into guys with plaid and calluses working in the financial district. Boston isn’t a hotbed of handy hunks, period. Which is probably why me going on a date happens about as often as a lunar eclipse. I used to see guys casually. But once you discover the wonders of toys…why bother? Why listen to a dude’s awkward posturing that was all about getting in your pants anyway? I’d rather buy the wine myself and know exactly who I was going home with… Someone that would deliver, then be neatly packed back into the bedside table when I was done with him. I glanced toward my wall calendar. The photos in this year’s Banker Babes calendar might have be different from the one Rose had seen, but most of the models were the same. June’s was Tony from audit. Lucky Tony was going to be up for a while, seeing as July’s was ripped out. For the record, I hadn’t voted to make Avery July. But Emma and Kristal had outvoted me. I’d never have told them in a million years that, in a moment of weakness after a New Year’s party that had left me smiling on the outside and empty on the inside, I’d come home and put up the calendar. Then got off to the image of my boss.

A shot of him without the jacket, his shirt pulled tight over the muscles of his chest and shoulders. His mouth curving at the corner like he’d just landed a deal. To be clear, the reason I did it had nothing to do with the man or his mouth and everything to do with his position. He’s my boss, which makes him off limits. Forbidden. Against the rules. Which for me is the equivalent of taking out a billboard and shining helicopter search lights on it. And now he’s fired you. How’s that for full circle? I shut the drawer and shifted back on the couch. I’d been psyched to watch this Netflix doc on the origins of sushi tonight. (Because who came up with the idea of rolling raw fish? Probably a lumberjack.) It would have to wait. I needed a job. I searched my virtually-dusty files to find a copy of my resume. Shit. Had it always been this short? I could hardly remember a time before I worked at Alliance. When they’d hired me, I’d been desperate. And so were they. I started adding lines. Filing, check. Telephones, double check (once for landlines and once for cell phones). Is sarcasm a skill? I erred on the side of inclusion. Here’s hoping Boston was experiencing a

shortage of sassy blonds with asshole-management skills.

5

YOU’RE MAKING ME BLUSH

“W

hy didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” “I didn’t want to burst your

cohab bubble.” Payton’s sigh was audible over the phone as I tugged on tights. “Of course I’ll be a reference.” “Great. Because I already included you.” “What are you applying to?” “Assistant jobs. Bartending. The post office.” “The post office? Come on. That’s not you.” “I don’t have a fancy degree like you, Payton. My options are limited. But I have an interview in thirty minutes.” “And you’re preparing?” “Trying to decide what the line is between cleavage and Nipplegate. Yes.” I unbuttoned

another button. The pink of my bra peeked out. An hour later, I shifted on my bar stool as a guy looked over my resume. Then my outfit. “How old are you?” “Twenty-four.” “You look older.” “Super.” “Nah, I mean. You’ve got the look.” “To be clear, these—” I cupped my tits and his eyes widened “—are for display only. Not for sale. To you or the customers.” He lifted his hands. “Fair enough. The college kids will still love you. You got references?” “I hostessed here before starting my last job.” I scrawled a name on the paper and he frowned. “They’ve been out of business for two years. Anyone else?” I slid over Payton’s extension. “Yeah. I worked for her until recently.” “Aright. We’ll give a call over and get back to you.”

A few people looked over my cubicle wall as I packed up my desk. I flashed a bland smile. For some reason I couldn’t tell people I’d been fired. The call came through just as I finished packing my desk and my spider plant, Trevor. (Because all living things deserve names.)

“Charlie. It’s Evan, from this morning. Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this. But you seem like you need the work, so…there’s no way I can hire you based on the reference I got. You might want to change that before you apply anywhere else.” I stumbled down the hall—cursing as my pink Louboutins sank into the wet patch of carpet—and into Payton’s office. “Hey. Did you get a call for a reference?” Her brows drew together. “Nope.” She hit a few buttons on her work phone. “Weird. Maybe messages are still going to switchboard since I was away last week.” “Then who the hell would they have gone to…?” Storm clouds gathered over my head. Second rule of survival: Never underestimate your opponent. I strode down the hall, fists clenched at my sides. I might not’ve looked like a warrior in the sleeveless, low-cut silk blouse and tight pencil skirt, but I was ready for battle. “What did you say to them?” I addressed the question to the slice of head visible over the top of the computer screen in Avery’s office. Today’s suit was blue, shades darker than his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess he’d saved up all his irritation to unload it on me in a single

glare. “You must be here to return your employee ID.” I ignored his outstretched hand. “I interviewed for a job this morning. How did you get hold of them?” “Presumably they called HR. HR put them through to me.” I crossed to his desk, shifting over it. “Do you seriously think I’m bad at my job?” His gaze hardened. “They asked if you were an exemplary employee. I said you were disloyal and difficult.” “I left sticky notes on your client files. Saved social media profiles, favorite restaurants, anniversaries. I know their kids’ names, their kids’ dogs’ names, and their kids’ dogs’ fleas’ names. And difficult? Let’s talk about difficult. You don’t follow any rules except your own. Any schedule except the one in your head. And you don’t listen to anyone.” “Compromise is for the weak.” “Compromise is for human beings.” Before he could answer, we were interrupted by a redhead storming in the door. “Mr. Banks?” Mallory something-or-other. In communications. I shifted back to let her into Avery’s line of fire. “A member of the gala team just quit.”

Avery met Mallory’s sharp gaze. “And you’re here because?” “Redpath’s office said that as the lead on the corporate banking image project, you’re also the new go-to on the annual gala. HR told me to talk to you about getting more help.” The fundraiser showed off the bank in front of clients, prospective clients, and as many old, rich men as we could find. I’d never been but knew it was a big deal. This year probably mattered more than most. I knew the look Avery sent her. It was the you can fuck right off look, but he couldn’t say that. Not when this was his responsibility. “What kind of help do you need?” Avery said finally. “Logistics. Working with the band, the venue. Checking client lists…we’re behind on ticket sales with all this bad press from Hollister. We’re undersold by fifty percent with barely two weeks to go. It’s a disaster. Redpath’s going to murder us.” I tried to look contrite. “That’s unfortunate. Best of luck to you both.” Two heads swiveled toward me. It was like they’d forgotten I was there. His gaze narrowed. “Mallory? Give me five minutes.” I didn’t like the sound of Avery’s voice, even before Mallory left. He rose from his chair and

started his laps along the windows of his office. He stopped his pacing to rub a hand over the back of his neck. “I have a call in to the head of HR, but apparently I won’t have a new assistant for a few weeks.” My incredulous laugh earned me a glare. “They’ll probably send some moron who can’t tie her own shoes,” he went on. “I thought that was me.” “I said you were disloyal and difficult. I never said you were stupid.” “Stop, you’re making me blush.” Avery leaned back against his desk, his gaze narrowing. “You really want to pour cheap beer for leering frat boys at some college bar?” “Let’s see…spending my shifts running at the whim of men who have zero respect for me and what I do—or bartending. I’ll take bartending.” His face went slack in surprise. “That’s what you think it’s like to work here.” I met his gaze head-on. He studied me, and I wished to hell I knew what was going on behind the purse of his mouth. The drawn eyebrows. The gaze that suddenly looked less angry than uncertain. Fuck it. Not my problem anymore. Avery reached for the notepad on the corner of his desk before I could turn away. He scratched something on the top sheet of paper and held it out.

I read his strong, forceful handwriting. Charlotte has been an important member of Alliance’s administrative team. I have been satisfied with her services during her tenure. My heart kicked in my chest. “What is this?” “Your reference. And it’ll be coming from a director once I land that promotion.” “Wait. They’re promoting you to director?” “It’s not official. But Jamie’s on leave,” he said, referencing his and Payton’s boss. “He’s given notice that he’s retiring early. And they’re looking for his replacement. If I can impress Redpath, the job is mine. My performance review’s happening days after the gala.” “Why would he pick you?” “I have a new idea that will change how we bank. Put data at our fingertips that will make us more efficient.” “Wasn’t that Hollister’s problem? It was too accessible.” Avery frowned. “That’s above your paygrade. What matters is that with my reference you can work anywhere in the city. If you do something for me. I need this gala to succeed. And I need time to land this promotion. I can’t do that if I’m buried in paperwork.” I counted in my head. “So you want me to keep doing my job for another month.” “Not the way you’ve been doing it. For the next

month, you will be a model assistant. The only words I want to hear from your lips are ‘yes’ and ‘how fast?’ And if I so much as smell the whiff of another prank…” “I’m fired. I get it.” “No. It’ll be way worse than that.” The intensity of his expression made me shiver. “Do we have a deal?” The list of things I’d rather do than be at this man’s mercy was a million miles long. Now that he knew what I’d done to him, he’d make my life hell. Still, based on the initial job-scoping I’d done the night before, I knew it’d be hard to get a new job without a solid reference. Plus the gap would be hell on my finances. It was only a few weeks. I could keep my head down. Avoid him, probably. He’d be so busy with real work I might never see him. Looking into his cool eyes, I knew that particular wish wasn’t likely to come true. “Fine.” Avery reached for the phone on his desk, a grim smile on his face as he hit a button. “Mallory, I have someone for your project team. Yes. She’ll do anything.”

6

IT WAS JERRY. IN THE JEFFERSON ROOM. WITH A STAPLER

Dickwad: Since you don’t answer emails reliably, I’ll be sending texts. Accounting is conducting a review of expenses in light of the previous CEO’s indiscretions. They want annotated claims going back eighteen months. Electronically. There’s a stack on your desk that need to be processed and scanned. By end of day.

“H

ow’s the future Mrs. Max Donovan?” I perched on Payton’s desk. “Hey. What are you still doing here?” “I’m the ghost of Christmas past. Hand over your lunch money.” She raised a brow and folded her arms over her chest.

“Want food? I’m starving. And if I know you, you have—” I checked my phone “—fifteen minutes between meetings to grab something.” I filled her in as we made our way down to the cafeteria. Her hazel eyes got rounder and rounder as I told her how Avery’d intercepted the reference. About the deal we’d struck. “I don’t understand. You could’ve gotten around him the next time.” “I know, but that’s not the point. He doesn’t believe that I helped him. That I get shit done. I’m not leaving him in that cloud of delusion. He needs to understand that, rhinestones or no, he’s never had it better.” “Charlie, if I found out my assistant had been messing with me, I would’ve fired them too.” “But he deserved it. He only cares that everyone here worships him except his own assistant.” “You think he’ll follow through and give you your reference at the end?” I turned it over in my head. “Yes. I think he’s a dick. He’s not a liar.” My friend grabbed a salad out of the fridge and I picked a sandwich, dropping it on my tray. Normally I’d go for bacon and eggs, but the breakfast place closed at noon. “No watermelon slushy?” I asked as she bypassed the machine that dispensed her favorite

frozen pink goo. She made a face. “I’m not feeling it this week.” We approached the cash register, and the burly man there lit up when he saw us. “Charlie. My angel.” “Hi, Martin.” Hot Martin wasn’t going to grace the cover of GQ anytime soon, but he was sweet. As his nickname was self-proclaimed and he had a great sense of humor, we went with it. He set a wrapped cookie on my tray with a flourish. “Your cookie.” “Thanks, handsome.” “It’s the least I can do for the radiant light you bring into our humble office every day.” Payton cleared her throat, amused. We paid for our food and continued to a table, where I unwrapped my sandwich. “What is aioli except mayonnaise on a power trip?” “I think it has herbs.” “Fuck herbs.” I dropped the bread back in place and bit into the sandwich. “So you’re just going to do everything he wants until he can replace you.” I chewed and swallowed. “I’m on Mallory’s project team for the gala. I’m going to be picking out napkin colors and debating bacon-wrapped scallops versus bacon-wrapped shrimp. Spoiler alert: It doesn’t matter. You could wrap garbage in

bacon and feed it to the people. They’d love it.” “Sounds like Avery’s going to enjoy this.” “At least the putting-me-through-hell part.” I remembered the flourish on the Post-it stuck to the cart full of stacks of paper next to my desk earlier. And the level look he’d shot me over my cubicle wall when he’d walked past on the way to his meeting. “I don’t even know why Avery’s the one on PR duty. If they want a fresh face to represent the company, they should pick someone who likes people.” My gaze landed on my friend. “Like you.” “Thanks. I’m not qualified.” “You’re as qualified as Avery. You have the highest client satisfaction ratings. You’re good at your job. And your hair’s always so goddamned bouncy.” She laughed. “So for the next three weeks you’re picking out napkin colors?” “No. I’m going to get him that promotion.” I told her about Avery’s ambition and Jamie’s departure. “Shit. So you’re trying to make Avery my boss?” “Only indirectly. You know associates basically work for themselves. It’s about client numbers, nothing else. Besides, what happened to ‘he’s not the worst guy’?” I teased. Payton shot me a look before flicking open her phone.

“Huh. As part of Redpath’s cleanup of Alliance, they’re literally cleaning up Alliance. The terrarium in the foyer’s getting redone. Plus, they finally realized the skylights were a dumbass idea. New carpet in the common area on eight, starting tomorrow. Says it’ll take a week.” “Where will all the admins go?” “Probably the Reagan room. It’s the biggest.” I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Amazing. I’ll be further from His Highness. Which is what it’ll take for me to get through to the gala without committing an act of bossicide. You prepared to give me an alibi?” “Jerry, from accounting. In the Jefferson room. With a stapler.” “You’re a true friend.”

7

THE BIGGEST HICKEY I’VE EVER SEEN

Dickwad: I have fifty new client prospects to be loaded into the database for my program testing. By Monday.

A

familiar form joined me on the elevator as I strode on Monday, yawning. I’d come into the office this weekend to do Avery’s menial tasks. I’d had time to visit my grandmother, but looking for other jobs had taken a backseat. Tough. If Avery thought I was going to back down this easily, he had another thing coming. “You’re still here,” I said to Rose. “I’m impressed. How’re you getting on?” Rose made a face. “Armand’s a little creepy. He checks me out. You don’t think he’d try

something?” “If he does, let me know. There are a lot of wandering eyes in this place. But wandering hands are strictly forbidden.” Her expression shifted. “I like your boss’s hands. And he was really nice when we talked at Tilt Thursday night.” My jaw dropped. “Nice? Are we talking about the same guy?” Rose hit the button. “And I know you said he wasn’t married, but I figured he’d be dating someone. He’s not,” she declared proudly. I raised a brow. “And this is your golden opportunity?” “No, I just prefer to ogle the single ones.” “Wait a second. You asked him point blank if he had a girlfriend?” She blushed. “Not exactly. I said Armand wanted to meet him for a drink after work. I asked if his girlfriend would be coming.” “Sneaky bitch.” She blinked, startled. “It’s a nickname. I’m not calling you a… Never mind.” We pulled up to find the cubicles pushed to the side wall. I read the piece of paper taped to one of the desks that’d been turned on its side. “Unbelievable. It says that while they’re working, we’re in Reagan on seven unless otherwise assigned. We can grab our stuff…if we

can find it.” Boxes were piled on desks that’d been pushed to the edges of the common area. Some desks weren’t even accessible. “I see mine!” Rose picked her way through the graveyard of office furniture to grab a box off a wooden table. My gaze ran over the pile of desks. Mine was distinctive mainly for the burn mark on the corner from my portable hair straightener. “Where else would it be?” I mumbled. Maybe someone’d moved it to Reagan already. I turned, starting down the hallway with Rose in tow. I stopped. “No fucking way.” Rose ran into me. “What?” Her gaze followed mine. “Whoa. You’re sharing with Avery?” My heart sank. His office held two desks, not one. His faced the door, mine the closet. The Lshape put us a body length apart. Normally I could barely keep it in when we were within shouting distance. This was slapping distance. I took a deep breath. There was no way we’d both make it through the next week alive.

Avery’s office was one of the older ones, which meant no glass wall like the one Payton had. But it was bigger.

The King was out and, though I tried asking and begging and bribing maintenance, I couldn’t get anyone to move my computer to the Reagan room. Because apparently my assignment was on the “master list.” Fuck it. If we were stuck with this, I’d at least make myself at home. My collection of brightly colored pens went on the desk. The stack of cardstock went in the first drawer. Nail polish topcoat, hair supplies, and tampons went in the second drawer. My spider plant Trevor, with his leaves that were crispy around the edges, got a corner. I should water him sometime this week. But I liked the fact that he, like me, was a survivor. It was our bond. I unbuttoned the top of my blouse because the air conditioning couldn’t keep up with the June heat, then set to work returning client calls. “Hi, Mr. Siskinds. You wanted to reschedule your meeting with Avery later this week?” “Yes, Charlie. I need to sort through the funding for this new location, but I’m not going to be available for a couple more days. Jinnifer has a cold.” Jinnifer. Jinnifer. His wife? Or… It clicked. “Sorry to hear that. I know someone with pugs, and they’re prone to respiratory issues. You taking her to the vet?”

“Amanda is.” That’s the wife. “You should see the poor thing. She sneezes and wheezes…it’s pretty damn cute, actually.” His hearty laughter had me smiling and holding the phone away. The restaurateur’s chuckle would register on the Richter scale, but it was contagious. “All right, well, I can get you in later this week. We’ll see you then.” I made a note as I hit a button to switch lines. “Avery Banks’ office.” “Is my brother there?” I blinked. “Excuse me, who is this?” “Kenna. I need to talk to Avery.” My mind struggled to make connections. Failed. “Hello?” I realized she was waiting for a response. “He’s in a meeting but should be back soon, Kenna. Can I have him call you?” “Just tell him it’s not cool that he went over my head and paid my tuition. We’ll talk this weekend.” “I’ll pass along the message.” She clicked off, and I slowly hung up the phone. I knew he had a sister, but I’d always assumed she was older and that they weren’t close. He never talked about her. I was still trying to figure this out when Avery strode into the office. “What am I doing here?” I asked.

He didn’t spare me a glance as he dropped his black leather briefcase behind his desk. “You belong here. You work for me.” “Everyone works for someone. It’s the welltended hierarchy of corporate America. But the rest of the admin staff are in the conference room downstairs.” Avery glanced over, irritated. It was Jerry. In the Jefferson room. With the stapler… I set the stapler—that’d somehow found its way from the drawer into my hand—back on the desk. “I can’t find my office chair, so I stole this one from outside. The phone isn’t mine either, so I had to get my calls forwarded to this extension. But I also keep getting calls for someone named Ray.” His gaze ran over my desktop. “Is that all?” Avery stripped off his suit jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the door, and straightened his tie. I had a perverse urge to yank on it. “One person did manage to make it to my line.” I played my trump card. “Your sister.” Avery blanched. “Kenna called. Here.” “She wants you to keep your tuition money. You know, I forgot you had a sister. You never talk about her. She’s in college?” “Sophomore year,” he replied, distracted. He crossed to the window and paced its length. “And you pay her tuition.”

“I don’t want your opinion on—” “That’s decent of you.” He turned to face me. Tried to hide his surprise, and failed. “I wish she agreed.” I checked my impulse to retort something sassy. It was clear from his expression how much he cared about her. How much this bothered him. He dropped into his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he stared unseeing into his computer monitor. I lifted his messages, which he liked to get on Post-its, and carried them to his desk. I set them on the blotter, then on impulse I perched on the corner of his desk. He rolled back an inch. Barely noticeable. “This promotion. Is that why you want it? So you can pay for your sister’s school? Because you don’t have a girlfriend, or a drug habit that I’m aware of…what’re you going to spend it all on?” “It’s none of your business.” He angled his face up toward mine, and my breath caught. “Whoa.” I leaned in to get a closer look. “Either you got bit by a vampire or that’s the biggest hickey I’ve ever seen.” I eyed up the purple mark on his neck. He winced as I reached out a finger, brushing it over his skin. “Dammit. It’s not a hickey.” I couldn’t stop the smirk. “No? That wasn’t in your weekend list of activities?”

Avery shot me a withering look. “I was carrying the bottom end of a sideboard up stairs. The guy holding the top end stopped moving. Got a corner right in my jugular.” “You moved this weekend?” “I move most weekends.” He paused. “I think it’s self-explanatory.” I shook my head, slow. “It really isn’t.” “I used to do it in high school and college for money, but now I do it for the exercise. A former classmate provides free moving help for modestincome families.” “So you move people. Is that like human trafficking?” He let out an exasperated breath. “I move their things, Charlotte. Couches. Tables. Boxes. Why are you still looking at me like that?” “It’s just not how I expected you to spend your weekends. I’d been leaning toward underground boxing ring. Cock fighting. Sex dungeons,” I added after a moment. “You know. Since the hickey.” Avery raised a brow before he turned on his phone. He flicked the camera lens to face him, angling it to no avail. “How bad is it?” “Everyone out there will think it’s a hickey too.” He cursed. I crossed to my desk and grabbed some concealer out of the drawer.

Avery pulled back when I approached him. “What are you doing.” “Girly voodoo. It’ll take two seconds.” I bent over, bringing our faces close and angling my head so I could see beneath his chin. He caught my hand in mid-air. “Don’t.” “Why not.” “Because I said so.” “Not the most compelling argument.” “It doesn’t have to be compelling. I’m your boss. I say things, you do them.” “That’s not an office,” I commented as I handed him the tube. I winced as he squeezed ten bucks worth onto a finger. “That’s a dictatorship.” He froze, goop-covered finger in the air. I’d tried to keep my opinions to myself during most of our working relationship. But hey. It’s amazing the things you’ll say after you’ve been fired. Once he recovered from the surprise, he began poking blindly at his throat. I bit my cheek. “OK, just stop,” I said when I couldn’t take it. “Now it looks like you have paint on you. Come on.” With a grunt, Avery lifted his chin. I inched closer. I brushed his neck with my finger, feeling the heat under my touch. His throat bobbed as I

blended the makeup into his skin. “You have an issue with being touched?” I asked. “Depends on who’s doing the touching.” His voice was rough in the quiet office. The usual buzz of phones beyond the door was silenced, thanks to the carpet renovations that hadn’t yet started. I used the pad of my finger in soft circles, trying to focus on matching his skin tone. Not the fact that this definitely wasn’t in whatever dusty handbook of assistant duties lay in a drawer in HR. Not that I was close enough to smell his cologne. Something smooth and spicy and oddly perfect for him. “There.” I finished my work and recapped the concealer. “You look five years younger.” Which was ridiculous because the man wasn’t thirty. Sometimes his accomplishments, his confidence, and his attitude had me forgetting there were only a few years between us. Right now, only a few inches. My gaze moved from his neck to his jaw, his face. The blue gaze that I swear sharpened when it met mine. I’m not a stickler for personal space but the expression on his face reminded me I was all up in his.

“There’s something I don’t get,” I said under my breath. “If you hate me so much, why did you ever have me assigned to work for you full-time?” Avery made a noise low in his throat. “You think I hate you.” “Come on. You haven’t smiled at me in two years. I probably could’ve stopped showing up and you wouldn’t have noticed.” He blew out a breath. “Trust me. That I’d have noticed.” His low voice sent prickles down my spine. “Mr. Banks?” My head jerked toward the door and Avery shifted back in his chair. Emma, Payton’s assistant, hovered in the open doorway. “They’re waiting for you in Reagan.” “I’ll be right there.” By the time I’d looked back, he’d shoved a stack of papers in his briefcase and rounded the desk. Without a look over his shoulder, he was gone.

8

ELECTRIC

“H

ey, Grams. You want it on the rocks?” “Straight up.” I poured her bourbon and carried it out to the sitting room of her retirement home suite. “I like a woman who asks for what she wants.” I settled onto the couch next to her chair. My grandmother’s lined face wrinkled more. “I don’t. Your mother called last week asking if I still had that gold bracelet. I told her she can have it when I’m dead.” She cackled, shifting to face the coffee table. “Don’t joke about that.” I grabbed the desk of cards and shuffled, the cards falling neatly between my hands until I dealt some off the top. “It’s true. We all go eventually.” She took her

cards and surveyed them, her blue eyes sharp despite her soft gray hair. “What else did my mother want?” She tossed two mini Oreo cookies onto the plate between us. I glanced at my cards and matched her bet before dealing another card. “To know if I was coming for your brother’s wedding. Have you thought about it?” I considered the blue envelopes sitting on my kitchen counter. “Not much to think about. I just got a second invitation, though.” She added another Oreo. I put in three. She studied me before matching my bet. “Why?” Guilt twisted my stomach. “I might’ve told him I didn’t get the first one.” “Charlie,” she chastised. “You won’t go, even for Jimmy? You were close.” “We still are. Sort of.” Matthew was five years older, so we hadn’t had much in common as kids before I’d left home. James had two years on me and we were closer. I’d seen my brother once in the last year. “But it’s just a wedding, Grams. And Matt told me they invited more than a hundred people. Jimmy’s not going to care if I’m there.” Grams narrowed her eyes. “You can’t let these hurt feelings shape you forever.” She tossed five more Oreos into the center and I

raised a brow. I glanced at my cards, then matched her bet. We both showed our hands. “Straight.” “A pair,” I conceded. She raked in her winnings, eyes sparkling. “Nothing’s stopping me. I just don’t know if I want to go.” “Because you’re avoiding your family or that man?” I shot her a look. “When I met your grandfather, I was a Rockette.” I smiled. “I know, Grams. I bet he was a handsome salesman and swept you off your feet.” “No. He worked in tickets. I had a way to jump the line and give free tickets to my friends. The first time he met me was a confrontation. Said he took it as a personal affront. I asked what he was going to do about it. He said he’d take it out of my wages. I said I didn’t make enough. He replied, ‘Then they’ll take it out of your costumes, too.’ I told him I’d be going on stage naked, and he said that was fine by him.” She chuckled. “He wasn’t afraid of a fight, that man. Took him ten years to become head of sales. His grit helped every bit as much as his charm.” I watched her, fascinated. I’d never heard that story. “And how did you know he was the one?” “Because he was always there,” she said simply. “The other ones came and went. But John

and I kept coming face to face every day until we couldn’t ignore it anymore. The universe wanted us together.” I remembered their feisty banter. Even at eighty-odd years old they’d teased each other, right up until the end. “I’ve never met a man with as much character as Grandpa. And I’m never going to.” Grams shot me a sympathetic look. “They can’t all be good. But they’re not all bad either, Charlotte.” I winced at the use of my full name. “There’s no man in your life that gets your blood up?” The conversation with Avery earlier drifted through my mind. “There,” she said triumphantly. “That look in your eye.” “It’s not a look, Grams. It’s an eyelash.” “Who is he?” “No one.” “Nobody’s no one,” she chastised. Grams got up to use the bathroom and I stared at the wall. What would he be doing tonight? Truth was, I didn’t know much about how he spent his evenings. I’d stopped asking more than a year ago when he never answered my inquiries. But now I knew he had a sister. One he was close to, provided for.

And that he helped people on the weekends. Weekends I’d always assumed were spent drinking with school friends. Or out with some woman he wanted to take home. But now I wondered. Grams returned and settled into her chair. I picked up the deck of cards, shuffling them easily. Then nodded to the plate between us. “Are you ever going to eat your Oreos or just lord them over me all night?

“Charlie. You look radiant today.” Martin glanced down at my feet as he passed me the cookie. “Whoa. What’s this?” I scanned the saladplate-sized treat riddled with chocolate dots. “An artistic impression of you, in chocolate chips. Naked, because that’s how you were born to be. There’re even chips for your nips.” Now that he mentioned it, I could see a female outline. “An artist and a poet. You’re going to make some woman very happy.” Like always, he refused the bill I offered. Like always, I waited until he’d turned around to stick it in the tip jar. Last night after getting home, I’d spent some time updating my social networks and opened a new pair of lemon Miu Mius that’d arrived at my

door. After that, I’d ended up thinking about work. Avery’s words about moving up the food chain. He was right, and wrong. If he wanted to take the spot a hundred more senior people should get, he’d need help. My help. We’d have to get… unconventional. I needed to get in the mind of the man pulling the strings, not the one whose desk was now ten feet from mine. I took the stairs up to the exec floor, cookie in hand. My job didn’t involve much time on the top floor, but it’d have to be your first day not to know the corner suite belonged to the CEO. The one with the giant administrative desk like a wall. The desk that had a sign saying “Will return at 2 pm”. Behind that desk was the tall, heavy-looking wood door that led to the inner sanctum. I drummed my nails on the desk. This had seemed like a great idea when I was in the cafeteria. Now… Let’s be honest. I was a few weeks from leaving for the last time anyway. Technically I’d already been fired. What the hell do I have to lose? I waited for someone to pass. Then dashed inside. “Damn, Mr. R.”

Redpath’s inner sanctum resembled the set of a Bond movie. Leather furniture, designer lights, a bar at one side. I could all but smell the cigars. The bar didn’t hold any alcohol. Now it was decorated with abstract crystal shapes that probably cost more than my monthly rent. You wouldn’t have to pay me to come to work if I had this guy’s digs. I’d thought Avery’s office was nice, but this was something else entirely. Plus, it was so quiet. I eyed up the chair. Big, plushy, leather. I wonder if it’s as soft as it… “Oh, yeah.” I sank into the buttery material. I squirmed to get comfortable, putting my feet up on the window ledge, the only thing I could reach. An inbox piled high on the desk drew my attention. I flipped through the files there, pausing on the first one marked “CONFIDENTIAL.” I opened it. Nothing. The next one. Boring. Securities filings. Something about HR policies. A knock at the door nearly had me dropping the files. “Excuse me, Mr—” The door swung wide, revealing my boss’s stunned face. “Shut the door!” I hissed, flipping the file closed on the desk. He complied. “Charlotte. What are you doing?”

he demanded under his breath. I held up the half-eaten treat. “In Redpath’s office?” It sounded like I’d just announced I was making my bid for president. Before I could respond, new voices sounded outside. Avery moved faster than I’d ever seen, grabbing my arm and pulling me after him into the coat closet. I shoved the last of the cookie in my mouth as my feet shuffled to the back of the small black space. When I ran out of room, I grabbed the railing overhead like I was riding the subway. Avery crowded in after me, closer, until my back hit the wall. His body took up so much space it took me a second to realize I was standing on something slippery. Maybe an empty garment bag. My heels slid and my grip tightened on the railing overhead. “Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Redpath,” a voice uttered. “Let me hang this up. It’s hot as hell in here,” the CEO’s voice boomed outside. Fuck! The door of the closet opened, letting a beam of light in. Avery pressed me harder against the back of the closet, his body shielding me from the light. It might have been a moment or an hour before the door closed again, leaving the slimmest slice of light from the crack in the frame. “There’s a full investigation into anyone who

might have assisted the former CEO,” came the other voice, muffled by the door. My heart raced as Avery’s chest flattened mine. I couldn’t see anything. But all my other senses were heightened. Guys are supposed to smell like sweat and dirt. Pine trees and rope, if you ask cologne manufacturers. His collar brushed my nose, and I could say without a doubt that my boss smelled like a bad idea. The kind you have after two drinks, when your body wakes up and your inhibitions pass out. The kind that keeps you up all night, tells you every second that this is what you need. My eyes adjusted and I made out the curve of Avery’s lips, parted. His chin and jaw, tensed and inches from mine. Avery’s fingers found the back of my neck. To calm me down. But the feel of his touch on the sensitive skin there did anything but calm me. That brush of his flesh over mine was intimate. I should’ve been thinking about getting caught. Not the fact that our bodies were touching. Not counting how many inches were between my parted lips and his. You ever have one of those Matrix moments? Where you realize that everything you thought you knew was a lie?

This was mine. Suddenly, I got why Avery hadn’t wanted me to touch him the day before. Because holy hell, we were electric. Just standing here, sharing his air. His body heat. We were barely touching, but every nerve in my body was starved for the feeling of contact. “It’s not just the data. It’s the optics. A married CEO had an illicit affair with a woman in another bank. He leaked client information. Confidential information.” “These things need to stop happening here. No more slip-ups. Everything we do going forward must be crisp. Disciplined. Above reproach. We have rules. And— What the hell is on my carpet? It looks like crumbs.” Ohhh shit. “Did you bring something…crumbly in here, Banks?” “What? No, sir.” “Has someone else been in here?” Sweat beaded on my forehead, and it was only partly from the conversation outside. The closet had zero ventilation. Combined with the nonbreathable fabric of my top and the fact that my skirt felt two sizes too small, it was unbearable. Nono. Don’t let me pass out here. My knees buckled, but a strong arm fastened around my waist.

The black spots faded from my vision, allowing other sensory information in. That’s when I realized my hips were trapped between something very hard… And the drywall separating Redpath’s den from the executive conference room. Holy fuck. Unless my boss got off on risking losing his job? The fact that I was the filling in an Avery-wall sandwich had him seriously aroused. Which was hot. I mean, fucked. (But also…hot.) I shivered—an involuntary spasm—and jerked my head up. Avery let out a grunt as I hit him in the chin. My hand went over his mouth. Instinct. I have bad instincts. Because now his warm, firm lips brushed my palm. All I could think about was his hard body pressed against me, and the mouth I loved to hate against my skin. “The board wants to restructure,” I heard clearly, returning my attention to the conversation. “If we can’t turn things around in the next six months, we’ll have to consider downsizing the corporate banking portfolio. Permanently.” “So no more corporate banking.” “Not the way it looks now. Not with two dozen associates, support staff, and an entire floor of the building, no.”

My eyes widened. “I’m late for a lunch with marketing. Take this downstairs for me, will you? I’ll be back.” The office door shut, and I released a breath, wiping the sweat that’d beaded on my forehead. Avery elbowed out of the closet. I shook off the tingling in my body and followed. The brightness of the office had me blinking. I crossed to the door and he made a noise behind me. I turned and saw him facing the window. I cleared my throat. “We need to get out of here.” My voice was strangely low. He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. Finally he nodded. I pushed on the door handle. Slow. We weren’t in the clear yet. With it two inches open, I stilled. Redpath’s assistant was facing the other direction but had settled herself back at her desk and was starting to turn toward us. It was too late to back down, so I strode out as casually as I could. Her sharp gaze narrowed on us. “What are you doing in there?” “Leaving some files for Mr. Redpath,” I said smoothly. “He requested them in our meeting this morning.” “It’s true.” Avery’s calm voice sounded at my back.

“All right, Mr. Banks. I’ll let him know you were here.” We made it to the stairwell and I collapsed against the wall, my heart racing. My eyes fell shut and I panted. When I opened them, I saw Avery’s head receding down the stairs from the exec tower. His strides were tight and stiff, and I swore under my breath. I caught up with him on the landing at our floor. I grabbed at the sleeve of his jacket as I stepped between him and the door. “Avery. Say something.” I expected the storm in his blue eyes before I felt it. “I don’t have words.” “I was trying to help. I went to investigate. To try and find an edge that might help with your promotion…” I trailed off and his jaw tightened. “You might get off on risking everything,” he muttered under his breath, “but this is my career. I can’t afford to lose it.” He started to push past me and I put a hand on his chest. Instinct. Avery glanced down at it, his body stiffening. His nostrils flared as his gaze swept down my face, landing on my mouth before it snapped back up. I resisted the urge to take my hand off his chest.

Because I thought he’d leave; not because I wasn’t ready to let go of the hard muscle I’d first felt in the closet a few minutes ago. “I get that. I do. But that’s how you learn things worth learning, Avery. You take risks.” I swallowed. “And now we know they’re looking to axe corporate. I guess I’m not the only one looking for a new job…” “I’m not looking for another job.” This time he did brush past me and reached for the door handle. “What?” Avery turned. “I’m not looking for another job.” His voice was stubborn. “If what we heard is true, then this department needs leadership. Unlike Hollister, I’m not about to abandon my post when things get rough.” He disappeared through the door, leaving me breathless in the stairwell. I should’ve been thinking about his words. Instead I was remembering the feel of his body pressed against mine in the closet. Which led me to an inconvenient and impossible reality… For the first time, I might want something from Avery Banks other than for him to leave me the hell alone.

9

THIS ISN’T AWKWARD AT ALL

“W

hat’s this day really about? Anyone?” Redpath stood in front of us,

hands on his hips. Humiliation? “It’s about survival. It’s been a difficult month —” I could see him wince, thinking about the fact that although Hollister’s fraud had slipped from page one to page two in the news, it showed no signs of losing steam “—but we’re all going to survive.” He wore a t-shirt and shorts and, although he wasn’t a big guy, every part of him was muscled. I eyed the outdoor obstacle course they’d bussed us to this morning. Where I’m from, this was where we’d send teenagers who did meth and

stole cars. All the notice we’d gotten was a cryptic note a few days before saying to clear schedules this morning and dress in casual clothes with athletic footwear. Rose glanced over at Payton, hands on her hips. In her khaki shorts and white t-shirt, Rose looked even more like a Girl Scout. “You’re green,” she said, her voice concerned. “I don’t think I can do this,” Payton murmured, shaking out one leg, then the other. Her Skechers didn’t look like they’d ever seen action. “Don’t you have shorter pants? You’re going to die in those.” I nodded toward her full-length leggings. “I just moved in with Max and haven’t had a chance to unpack yet.” “A reminder that everyone who finishes gets a day off,” Redpath shouted through a megaphone from his raised wooden platform. At least he seemed in his element. For the two hundred staff spread out in uniforms ranging from t-shirts and shorts to jeans, it was like the Hunger Games and we were District 13 (the financial district). I glanced at Payton, who sucked in a deep breath, her brown eyes squinting into the sun. All I needed to do was get through the course made up of ropes, walls, monkey bars, and what looked like a mud pit. I could use the damned day

off, and there was nothing Avery could do about it. “Checking out the competition?” Payton asked as I scanned the crowd. “I might have a shot at this.” We didn’t have a lot of athletes in our department. There were a few runners and a couple guys who did CrossFit. But since it was summer, a lot of people were on vacation. I used to be pretty fast. I had to be, running away from two older brothers at my parents’ house on the edge of town. I’d always been into scents— candles before perfume—and to tease me, they liked to play games that involved catching me and sticking plants up my nose. “I thought you might be looking for someone in particular,” Payton commented. I followed the direction of her nod. Avery stood amongst some of the other associates. He looked like he was about to go for a jog. But eyeing up his ropey legs under the black basketball shorts, the white t-shirt that made his skin look tan and that fit over the muscles of his torso and shoulders? I felt hot all over. Suddenly it wasn’t the sun or the humidity that had my boobs feeling heavy and made me press my legs together. It was the fact that yesterday my boss had shoved me into a closet.

Stroked my skin in a way that had me holding back a moan. And had me thinking ready to lock the door and drag him to the floor with me, letting two years of hate and arguments go up in smoke. As if sensing my gaze, he turned. He was too far away for me to make out his expression, but I felt the rush anyway. Rose followed my gaze. “I’d run behind that all day. You’re so lucky.” Redpath’s amplified voice interrupted all conversation as he pointed everyone to the start line. “On your marks. Get set. Go!” He shot off a starter’s pistol. We took off across the field. The monkey bars weren’t bad. My hands might not’ve had calluses, but apparently it was like riding a bike. A few people struggled with the car tires that made you run like a sumo. It gave me a chance to pull away with a small pack. That’s when shit got real. The wall might’ve been as high as my head, but you had to use ropes to get over it. Avery was the first one there. Instead of using the ropes, he managed to reach up and boost himself over. At the top he glanced back, startled to see me so close behind. “Morning, boss,” I panted as I pulled myself up. He disappeared over the other side.

I reached the top, sparing a glance over my shoulder as more people started to work their way over the obstacle. Rose and Payton were approaching the wall. “Fuck, I’m ready for that day off right now,” Payton groaned as she reached the edge. My heart raced as I gazed ahead of us. The number of people making their way toward the next set of obstacles was growing every second. Competitiveness fired in my belly, but I looked back at my friends. “Come on, ladies. We’ve got this.” I reached a hand out and helped her, then Rose, over the wall. We were still working our way through the second of three sets of obstacles when a cheer went up. Someone crossing the finish line. It was another fifteen minutes before we did the same. We collapsed on a picnic table by the finish line. Rose reached for bottles of water in a cooler and passed them around. “There,” I panted. “You glad you survived that paternalistic display of machismo?” “Depends,” Rose said. “Is there lunch?” We made our way over to the white tent where a lineup was starting. “I’m going to use the bathroom.” Payton took off. I followed her. The line was just a couple of

people long, and when I got in I heard someone throwing up. Payton opened the stall door a moment later, looking green. “Hey, you OK?” She glanced around, making sure no one else was in hearing range. “No. I’m pregnant.” I could’ve sworn I’d heard wrong, but as I watched my friend’s numb face, I realized I hadn’t. My instinct to make light of everything evaporated. “That’s…big.” I studied her, looking for any signs of cracks in the Payton façade. “I just found out this morning. I can’t tell Max,” she whispered. “He has issues a mile long with his parents.” “He’s going to notice.” Payton buried her face in her hands. I pulled her hands away, relieved to see she wasn’t crying. Just stunned. “You wanna talk about it? We could find somewhere more private.” “Thanks. I might take you up on that. But not right now. I just want to eat a hamburger and keep it down.” “OK. I’ll meet you there in a few. I just need to find somewhere to change that’s less disgusting than this bathroom. I have some pretty serious boob sweat.” She managed a half-smile. “Sure.” I gave her a hug and walked out of the

bathroom with her. Then I scanned the horizon. The three buses we’d arrived on were parked half a football field’s length away. Behind them was the edge of a forest. I grabbed two bottles of water and my VS bag from the bus and trudged back to the forest as I considered Payton’s situation. There were few things bigger than finding out you were pregnant. I knew the emotional rollercoaster first-hand and felt for my friend. She must have had a million things going on. I’ll be there for her when she needs me, I resolved. And I’ll be clean. I waded through the first ten feet or so of trees, parking behind a big one. I stripped off my tank top, letting out a groan as it dropped, slapping against my thigh from the sweat. “Eww.” My shoes came next. Then my capris. Standing in my sports bra and panties, I bent my head forward and dumped the first bottle of water over my neck. “Oh yeah.” The cold ran down my back, my stomach, trickles reaching my legs. I stripped off my panties and reached for a fresh thong from my bag. Pulled it up my legs, sighing in relief. Then I reached for the bottom of my sports bra, starting to pull it up. Why are these things so easy to get on and so

hard to get off? I tugged. My muscles complained, stretching and contorting. I cursed. Now I was stuck, with it up over one shoulder and over one boob. “Hello?” A branch snapped behind me and I whirled. The man’s voice wasn’t directed at me. Avery was holding up his cell phone, looking irritated. One of my boobs was still covered and I managed to put a hand over the other. There was no hope of covering the rest of me, given my bra straitjacket. The best I could hope for was that I looked like one of those Greek statues. The kind with fabric casually draped over curves and the odd boob peeking cheekily out. “Charlotte.” “Avery.” I tried for professional. I said I tried. His startled expression turned into something else when his gaze pulled down my body. “I was just in the middle of something.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “I was trying to get cell phone reception. And there is none. Not there. Or here. So…” He seemed to realize way too late that he was staring and glanced back toward the white tent in the distance as he tucked the phone into his shorts pocket. “I should go.”

“You could stay. Watch,” I blurted. His brows shot up. “I mean, not watch me. Watch to make sure no one comes. While I change.” “Right.” He turned away. I went back to pulling off the bra. “I didn’t realize changing was so difficult,” he offered over his shoulder. “For women it is,” I grunted. “It’s the curse of boobs. So let me guess—you crossed the line first?” His profile appeared as he turned to the side. “Yeah. Not that Redpath gave me any credit for it.” I tried twisting a new way, wiggling a strap over my head. “What do you mean?” “I cross the line and he says “where’s the rest of your team?” I say “back there”. He shoots me this look like he’s a damned Zen master and walks away. What the hell was that about?” The disgust in his voice was evident in every syllable. A muscle in my shoulder complained, and I tried a new angle. “Maybe he was making a point,” I panted. “That being a director’s not just about you.” “You were right there with me through the first wall,” he said over his shoulder. “Is that why you fell back?” “Payton needed help. This course was not made for pregnant chicks.” I froze as I realized my mistake. “Fuck. That was not public news. Don’t say

anything.” The last female associate that had a kid was completely forgotten. I glanced back to make sure he wasn’t looking. My words didn’t seem like they’d even registered so I went on. “You meant what you said yesterday? About sticking around even if the brass is looking to cut corporate?” “You think it’s stupid.” “It’s also admirable. Going down with the ship or whatever.” Maybe he was more of a team player than I thought. He groaned. “That’s just it. I don’t want to land this director job because I like to sit around holding hands and smiling at people. It’s because this program will change things for us. Give the company a secret weapon against our competition.” “What does it do again?” I asked, mostly to keep him talking and to ensure he kept facing the other way. I took a few breaths to lower my heart rate, which was higher than it’d been during the race from fighting with this damned bra. “It pulls data from every source imaginable and links it to a common client file. If you’re an Alliance client, for instance, it’ll pull from emails, records, even the internet. So it’d know your birthday is the day before Valentine’s Day. That you prefer to be called Charlie, and that you get these lines in your forehead when someone calls

you Charlotte—even though it suits you.” My eyebrows rose in surprise, but he went on. “That you spend an inordinate sum of money on clothes and shoes and…are you done yet?” He glanced back, his eyes widening. “Dammit, Charlotte. How are you more stuck?” “I don’t know,” I whined. He crossed to me before I could stop him. “Bend over.” “That’s what they all say,” I grumbled. He reached for the edge of my bra. “One. Two. Three…” He tugged, hard, and I felt the bra give way over my head. I stumbled back, my hands fumbling to cover my boobs. When I glanced up, my boss’ eyes were closed. “No peeking.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I struggled to remember what we’d been talking about as I reached for my bag and pulled out a fresh bra. “For the record, I don’t spend anything on shoes. I get them for free.” He made a noise of skepticism. “Whatever you say.” “It’s true,” I protested as I slipped into the lace. Fastened it at the back. “I do reviews on my social feed. Retailers send me the shoes. I take pictures of me wearing them, ranting about them. Good or bad.”

“You get free shoes for going on a Twitter rant to your friends.” I pulled out a skirt and stepped into it, zipping it up the back. “Not friends. Followers. About fifty thousand of them.” His eyes flew open. “Fifty thousand people read about your…” he trailed off, realizing I was still shirtless. His attention landed on my bra and he flushed. I tried to ignore the awareness that flooded me. “It’s fine,” I said, reaching for the clean top in my bag. “I mean you already saw way more.” “I saw nothing.” I arched a brow at him. “You’re a terrible liar.” “That’s not true.” I folded my arms over my chest, the shirt dangling from my fingers. “I remember when you got that box of cigars from that client who was an importer last Christmas. You swore you liked them so you could have some common ground, and then right before the holidays—“ “He gave me a box of the most expensive kind,” Avery finished. “Did you smoke any?” “Not a damned one. I gave them all to my uncle.” I swear the corner of his mouth twitched. Go figure the most relaxed I’d been with my boss was half naked in the middle of the forest.

But something was different out here. Maybe because we weren’t that different in age. In fact, we suddenly seemed to have way more in common than I’d ever realized. His reluctant smile caught me off guard. My boss didn’t throw those things around, and I reacted like I was starved of them. My chest tightened, and my entire body lit up, and… “AHH!” I shrieked, dropping the shirt and clutching my hands to my chest. “What?” “Something just brushed my foot.” “What kind of something?” “Something scaly. Or furry.” I spun in a circle, lifting one bare foot and then the other. To minimize the chance of further contact. Avery closed in, grabbing my shirt and lifting it. “There’s nothing there.” “There was,” I insisted. When I finally looked up, his eyes were the color of the sea on those beach travel ads in the window I walk by on my way to work. “You’re not going to get eaten in the middle of the forest on my watch.” I nodded. “Good.” My voice was scratchy. He noticed my reaction. The warmth faded from his eyes, replaced by something else. How am I still sweating? I did the bottled water shower. I’d changed my clothes.

The only explanation was that being the center of this man’s attention had my entire body coming alive. The way the sun filtered through the leaves of the trees made him look approachable. Attractive. Coupled with the clothes, it was like I was facing an alternate reality version of my boss. One that had me thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with banking. Avery held the shirt out to me, and my fingers wrapped around it. As if that would anchor me in the suddenly dizzying swirl of sensations. “Forest light suits you.” The words were out before I could think about them. “Forest light?” he murmured. I licked my lips, and he followed the movement. “It makes you look like a Disney prince. Handsome. Charming. In need of someone to save.” “Then I’d better keep looking. Because I have a hard time picturing you in need of a rescue.” If I’d been capable of thought in that moment, it would’ve occurred to me that this teasing was strange. Unprecedented. But I couldn’t notice. Because noticing it might ruin everything. Noticing would remind us that Avery was my boss. That everything in the universe said we were destined to cross paths over travel arrangements, and expense forms, and room bookings. Nothing

more. I should let it go. I couldn’t let it go. “Tell me something.” My voice dropped, like I was afraid nature would overhear. “If you weren’t you and I wasn’t me and we were just two people who ran into each other in a forest. What would you do?” Avery’s gaze worked over mine. “Do people do that?” His murmur matched mine. “Just go with it. As a thought experiment.” He glanced down my body, stopping at the shirt clasped in my fingers. He tugged the shirt, pulling me off-balance so I took a step toward him. In my bare feet, I barely came to his forehead. My face tilted up to his like I wanted to drown in his attention. The partly lowered lashes were way thicker than I’d ever noticed before. The bow of his lips had my fingers itching to brush it. “As a thought experiment…I’d do this.” The next breath I sucked in was his. Kisses aren’t meant to be surprises. You see them coming. You stare at the other person, flirt a little. Your eyelids fall as they close in… So by definition, this wasn’t a kiss. The fact that his lips warmed on mine, that his hard body was suddenly pressing against my tits… Inconsequential. That every nerve in my body came alive, like

he’d stroked a deliberate finger over every inch of my skin at once. It wasn’t a kiss when his tongue pressed against the seam of my mouth. When I sucked in a startled breath, letting him in. Or when he groaned low in his throat, changing the angle and forcing my head back. Not when I grabbed his bare arms for balance, my fingers digging into the warm muscle. When fire streaked through my veins, settling in a needy ache between my thighs. It wasn’t a kiss. Because I’d never been kissed like that before. “Charlie? Are you…? Whoa shit.” We jerked apart at the sound of Payton’s voice. My friend stood at the edge of the forest, her hands over her eyes. She peeked between her fingers, then dropped them when she realized we’d stepped apart. “I just came to look for you. Lunch is over and I thought you might’ve gotten lost...” She cleared her throat. “You guys should be careful. If it’d been anyone else—” “You’re in no position to be making threats,” Avery uttered beside me. “Excuse me?” Payton looked between us, confused. “Avery…” My voice was a warning he promptly ignored.

“Given your situation.” Payton’s face paled. “Charlie, you told him?” My chest tightened. “It slipped out. It was an accident.” “Yeah, I see why it slipped out.” The betrayal in her voice gutted me even before she turned and started back toward the buses. “Payton!” I started to follow, but Avery’s voice had me stopping. “Charlotte.” “What?” I demanded. His gaze flicking over my body reminded me I was still in my bra and a skirt. I crossed to him, yanked my shirt from his hands, and pulled it on. “Where are you going,” he asked as I jammed my feet into ballet flats and shifted the bag over my shoulder. “To fix the giant bomb you set off.” I stomped back in the direction of lunch without looking behind me.

10

TEN REASONS I WANT TO FUCK MY BOSS

“S

how me your tits.” The red-headed man sitting in the chair glanced up at me, then lifted his shirt to reveal hard abs and pecs. “Happy?” I dropped into a seat next to him, and he dropped his shirt. “This is ladies’ night, McKay,” I grumbled. “Didn’t you see the sign?” “I’m feeling especially estrogenic today.” “That’s not a word.” “Bet I can convince you it is.” “I hate lawyers.” The guy with a few years on me grinned into his beer. “Once more, like you mean it.” Today’s “team building” had been a major bust. I’d been trying to figure out what to say to Payton, but by the time I’d got back she’d been gone.

“Payton not here yet?” The table Riley’d grabbed sat four, but I didn’t see Payton’s bag or any other drinks. I’d assumed—hoped—we were still on for ladies’ night at LIVE, a local comedy club she’d suggested last week. “Nope. Saw Max at the office. He said she’d wanted to talk to him. It sounded heavy.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yeah.” “You going to tell me what it is?” “Nope. I’ve already blabbed enough today.” He raised a brow. “You’re not a blabber.” “You hardly know me.” “I’ve known you a year, since Max and Payton got together. I like to think I’m a good judge of people. You don’t say anything but what you want to say.” “I’ve been screwing up a lot lately. I’m out a friend. And a job, soon.” “You need money, we’re always looking for help at Titan.” “I’ll be OK. But thanks. In a few weeks I’ve been promised my pick of admin jobs.” I told Riley about Avery’s offer. Riley shifted back, crossing an ankle over one chino-clad knee. How the man managed to get away with wearing his preppy shit and not look like a douchebag, I’d never know. Maybe his earnest grin, or those boy-next-door eyes. “You behind a desk? That’s a fucking waste,

Charlie.” I reached over to slap him on the arm. “I don’t mean because you’re hot enough to melt asphalt in a snowstorm. I mean, are you going to be satisfied?” That was how he managed it. Because he could be a guy and totally sweet at once. “I don’t have a college degree like you and Payton, Riley. I’m a high school dropout.” He shrugged. “Max was a college dropout. He jokes that I did the schooling for both of us. But he’s the one who built a multi-million dollar gaming company.” I ordered a drink from the waitress who came by, turning it over in my head. “I want to be a Bond girl. How do I make that happen?” “You need a name.” “How about Titty Shandazz?” Riley laughed into his drink, his shoulders rocking. “I’d stroke one out over you.” “This place is cool,” I said. “Even though Payton’s not here, I’m glad she suggested it.” “I suggested it,” he corrected. “The chick tonight kills me. It’s like, no matter how fucked your life is, you can forget about it for a few minutes. But it’s the best kind of humor because it’s true.” I pulled out my phone to fire off a text.

Charlie: You still coming tonight? Riley’s here

I added the last part in case it defused her anger at me. I wasn’t sure whether to expect an answer, but one came.

Payton: On my way

We sank back into our chairs and watched the comic. The opener was a woman with dark hair who bounded up onto the stage. She started with a joke about dating on social media. The fact that we make our best versions of ourselves, that we lie and pose, even though we know people will see us anyway. “She’s good,” I murmured, feeling myself grin for the first time in a frustrating couple of days. “I know.” I watched her for a minute. “Hey Riley. You think people who are attracted to each other can spend time together—like at the office—and not have anything happen?” He lifted a shoulder. “With Max and Payton it

backfired. But who knows. It might be possible. With them it took a while because they’re both so into their work.” “So much they ignore sex?” “Yeah. I’m guilty of that too. Work gives you a different high.” It was hard to imagine. Work had never given me that. It’d always been a means to an end. Something to pay the bills, something to bitch about. “Why, you got a boy on the inside, Charlie?” “There’s no boy inside my anything, Riley McKay.” Though I was starting to think I wanted there to be. “You offering?” “I don’t fuck. I’ve made my peace with it.” I stared at him, remembering he’d split with his girlfriend a while ago. “A real, living monogamist. I could sell you on Match, you know. For millions.” He lifted his beer. “I’d be worth every penny.” The chair behind us pulled out and we both looked around. “Payton.” She dropped into it, her face pale. “I told him.” Riley shook his head. “Told him what?” Payton filled us in. About telling Max she was pregnant. “What did he say?” I asked. “Nothing. For five minutes, he didn’t say a damned thing.” She was sad, and pissed.

“How could he?” “It’s a lot to get used to,” Riley offered. “Max doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents.” I shot him a look. “I’m sorry, honey,” I told Payton. “It is what it is. I didn’t want to stay at his place.” “You can stay at mine,” I offered. “I’ll even give you the bed.” “Thanks. I’d like that. I don’t want to put this on my mom.” Not wanting to upset her more, I squeezed her hand. “I’m really sorry about earlier.” “Don’t worry about it. That seems like the least of my problems. Someone at work knows about it? Well, my boyfriend not saying a thing seems a lot worse, you know? Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” She shifted out of her seat and disappeared. Everyone around us was laughing, but we were stony faced. Riley wore a confused look. “It’s hard for Max. She has to cut him some slack. He’s not going to get on this train fast.” I banged my drink on the table, shifting forward. “He’d better get it, McKay.” My voice wavered beneath the surface. “You think it’s hard for Max? It’s hard for Payton. Because the woman doesn’t get a choice. You wake up one day

pregnant, and you can’t walk away from it. Not for a minute, or a day, or a week. It’s always there.” His eyes were searching mine, and I couldn’t stop. “The fact that you’re growing a person inside you. And not just any person. It’s you, and it’s him…no matter who he is. Whether you love him or he thought he loved you or you hate him, it doesn’t matter. Biology doesn’t care. So no. Payton doesn’t have to cut him some slack.” I drained my drink while Riley studied me with serious eyes. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t know.” I couldn’t tell if he was apologizing for his comments about Max, or something else entirely. I brushed it off. “Whatever. Let’s try to salvage ladies’ night.” I looked back at the comic and willed myself to laugh.

Here’s the thing about a kiss. It shouldn’t change you. Shouldn’t affect you. It’s first base. But sometimes it gets in your head. Just the possibility of something. Like kissing Avery. If I thought the kiss would fade from my memory after ladies night? After hours of staying up late at my place drinking tea and talking with Payton? After sleeping on it? I was wrong.

“Charlotte.” I blinked up as Avery came in the door, looking all business. “I’m running the associates meeting this morning. Armand’s been called away. I need you to take notes.” “That’s all you need.” He stared at me like I’d just spoken Greek. “Yes. That’s all I need.” Seeing him again hit me like a wall. It came back to me in full color, surround sound. The feel of his mouth, the hardness of his body. “Charlotte.” “Yeah?” I shook my head, focused on my boss’s impatient expression. “Now.” I trailed him into the conference room, notepad in hand. The full house meant I was squeezed next to him at the head of the table. Well, if he could play it cool, so could I. We could be all business, no problem. It was one kiss. I’d kissed lots of guys. It wasn’t as if he’d blown my mind with his conflicted stare and his very decisive mouth and the way he groaned low in his throat… Twenty minutes in, I was sunk. My hormones and sleep deprivation had joined forces to rebel against common sense. Because watching Avery run a meeting was like porn. His clipped tone as he cued and cut the

associates off one by one. The tapping of his pen on the table when someone spoke out of turn. The way he’d shove his chair back from the table and fold his arms over his hard chest when it took too long to get the answer he wanted. It should’ve been unattractive. It was a damned ballet. The world premiere performance of Ten Reasons I Want to Fuck My Boss. “Do we have last quarter’s numbers?” I blinked when he turned toward me. Suddenly everyone was looking at me. “Yeah.” I reached for the clicker in front of him and flipped through some slides to the one he needed. Avery nodded once to me. As close to attention as I’d get. “Payton. How’s retention on your files.” Tap, tap. “Payton.” She straightened in her seat. “I have two accounts at risk.” Better than the other associates, who had at least ten unless they were lying to make themselves look better. “What seems to help is honesty. I’m telling everyone that the situation was unexpected, but it’s under control. We have retained the best people on our team and are working to add others to ensure the safety and confidentiality of their information.” “Fine. Last order of business. Roles for the upcoming gala will be coming through soon on

email. Read them. Do them. See Charlotte with any questions. This is your chance to help the cause.” People filtered out, and I waved my fingers at a miserable-looking Payton. My chest tightened. “What’s your deal?” I asked as the last associate filtered out. Avery glanced up from where he was stacking his papers. “What do you mean.” “With Payton. You’re jerking her around, making like you’re going to tell someone about her. Are you or aren’t you?” He frowned. “I haven’t decided. If it’s relevant to the department…” “That’s bullshit. The department’s future is not hanging on whether Payton takes a few months off to raise what, judging from the parents, will probably be the next Bill Gates. Besides. Would you do this to your sister?” He packed the files into his briefcase and I rose from the table. “That’s different.” “How?” Avery sighed. “If you do too many favors, people come to expect them. It’s a weakness.” “It’s called being a decent person.” He shot me a look, but I followed him out the door. “Payton doesn’t have your luck. She was born with a not-so-rare but serious condition.” I had his attention now. “Tits.” He groaned, but I stayed on him.

“Which, around here, mean you’re starting three lengths behind.” I lowered my voice as we walked down the hall, my Balenciagas helping me keep up with his long strides. “Speaking of tits…” I started. He pulled me into an empty alcove off the hall that contained a bench and a potted plant. “Let’s not,” he said under his breath. I folded my arms over my chest. “You had zero problem talking about them yesterday.” Avery’s eyes flashed. “First, can you keep it the hell down? Second, we were out of the office. It was hot. We were probably delusional. It was a mistake.” I scrutinized his tight expression for any sign of weakness. “So when we kissed. You didn’t feel anything.” “No.” His jaw twitched. “Did you.” I’m no stranger to rejection. But I hadn’t seen myself getting shot down on this. I cleared my throat, realizing he was waiting for a response. I could still save face. “No. It was…yuck.” OK, dial it back, Meryl Streep. “I’m just glad we’re on the same page.” “Right.” Avery turned and led the way back to the office. He held the door and I stepped in ahead of him. “Whoa. Something’s different,” I said as I

crossed to my desk. I sank into my seat. “Is this my chair?” He hung up his jacket and straightened his cuffs, making a noncommittal noise. “And it’s my phone too. My extension’s on it.” I frowned. “My plant’s even been watered.” I glanced up. “Did you do this?” Avery took a seat behind his own desk. “It’s not a big deal. You needed your workstation. I need you to work.” Still, I couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit of gratitude as I worked my butt into the familiar ass imprint. “Can’t argue with that.” “Oh, and Mallory gave me a status update on the gala. We need someone to liaise with the venue and the band. And we’re behind on calls to clients.” “I’ll do it.” “Really.” “Yes,” I emphasized. “It’s my job.” We worked in silence for a few minutes. I returned some phone calls, rebooking meetings Avery’d missed on account of Redpath’s survivor day. “Did you send Gerald Thompson and his wife for an anniversary dinner?” I glanced up at the sound of Avery’s voice breaking the silence. “I just got an email to thank me.” “Oh. Yeah, it’s their twenty-fifth this week.” He studied me for a long time before nodding.

We both went back to work, and I continued making gala calls. Halfway through my last call, Avery shifted back in his chair and tapped a pen on the desk. What now? “Here’s the thing,” he said when I hung up, shifting forward in his chair. “There’s no hard rule on fraternization. No explicit policy that would prevent colleagues from doing anything...well, explicit. But when you move up the ranks, optics become important.” I folded my arms over my chest, abandoning any pretense of working. “I’ve never heard you use so many words to say nothing at all. Everyone around here’s so damned careful about following the rules this week. Just say what you mean.” “I’m saying people notice who you fuck.” I hid my surprise at his immediate retort, reaching for a stack of papers in my inbox. “And who do you fuck, Avery?” His gaze narrowed. “Lately? No one.” “Because you’re working on this top secret program that’s going to redefine Alliance.” “Because I don’t believe in fucking one person when you’re thinking about someone else.” The papers spilled from my fingers and drifted to the floor. By the time I’d collected them, his level gaze was still on me.

If Avery’d been trying to get a reaction, he’d sure as hell succeeded. In fact, the words had derailed any hope of productive thinking for the next hour. Maybe year. “Right.” I cleared my throat. I should let it go. Ignore it. Instead, I asked, “And the person you’ve been thinking about is someone you shouldn’t think about that way.” “Correct.” “How long have you been…thinking about this person.” “A while.” Avery’s gravelly voice dragged down my spine. I nodded because I didn’t trust myself to speak. “So when you said you didn’t feel anything when we kissed?” “You’re almost as bad a liar as I am.” In retrospect, there were a million brave or cool things I could’ve done. But my brain felt like it had the processing power of an almond. I shoved out of my chair. “Where are you going?” he demanded as I shouldered my bag. “To pick up lunch. The deli down the block. I can bring you something.” “Yes. Thanks.” I reached for my pen, dropped it into my purse.

Something to keep my hands busy. So I didn’t have to meet his stare. “How about roast beef, extra pickles, hold the horseradish.” “That’s my favorite.” “I know.” I grabbed a stack of sticky notes and tossed them into my bag too. Good to be prepared. I risked a glance over to see him cock his head, meeting my gaze over the top of his monitor. “You never get it for me.” “Things change.” His attention had me squirming. “Yes. They do. Charlotte?” “Mhmm?” Avery looked pointedly at my purse and I followed his gaze. Jesus, did I just put my stapler in there? I fished it out and dropped it back on the desk, flushing. “I don’t need that.” “Probably not,” he agreed. I was out the door in a flash. The only thing that affected me more than my boss’s derisive glares? The smoldering ones.

11

STRIPPERS AND BLOW

“T

he fuck you doing, woman?” “Watch the f-bombs, Alistair,” I cautioned. “It’s not good for Tammy’s blood pressure.” “She’s stepping on my feet.” “Maybe she has a crush on you.” “I heard that. I’m not that deaf.” Grams cackled from her chair in the corner, while four couples turned in circles to the steady music. I’d spent the rest of the day making calls for the gala and getting briefed by Mallory on the responsibilities of coordinating with the band and the venue. Avery’d been out in meetings most of the afternoon, which was a boon. At least before, when he’d been impossible, I’d

known how to act around him. Now it was like we’d declared a truce. A truce on the tenuous ground of two shared secrets. One, that the department might be going down in flames. Two, that Avery and I put together were hot enough to start our own four-alarm blaze. The revelation that he’d been thinking about it even longer than I had did strange things to my brain. I’m a relatively evolved human being. But there was nothing evolved about the question that’d been relentlessly pounding in my head all afternoon… How does he fuck? Lights on or off. Fast or slow. Hard or soft. Top or bottom. The possibility had never occurred to me but now that it had? My brain took it. Ran with it. Drove it over ten state lines. He’d been attracted to me for awhile. Had I been attracted to him too? Was it all just because we wanted what we couldn’t have? No matter when the feelings had started, yesterday’s kiss had changed things. I just didn’t know how. Just after six, I’d taken the subway to my

destination, which was tucked away in a sleepy residential part of Boston. I’d changed after work into soft, faux-leather leggings. My sleeveless V-neck was a pale pink, a color I didn’t wear to work. But it was stylish and comfortable. The music stopped. “All right, that’s good for today. I should let you go before Dr. Thatcher tries to have me killed.” “I feel wonderful,” one of the women offered. “That’s the blood thinners, Gladys,” Grams piped up. My “class” consisted of five women and three men at the local retirement home. I’d come in and teach them dance once a week, when I could. Every other week when I couldn’t. Not that “teaching” was the right word. They all knew how. They’d been raised in a time when the high point of the week had been going to a dance. Flirting with the opposite sex. Practicing moves that, today, we’d think of as sweet but boring. It wasn’t boring. It was the opposite. There was something beautiful about turning around the floor with another person, knowing that you synced up perfectly in a way you never could in the real world. All of them were funny. Genuine. Had stories that would make you laugh until you cried, or peed.

And I liked spending time with them. “Thanks for the break, Grams,” I said as I walked her slowly down the hall to her room. She waved to a woman passing the other way. I lowered my mouth to her ear. “You guys still at war since she ‘forgot’ to tell you about brownie day last week?” “Oh no, dear. It’s not worth holding grudges like that. Or about anything, really. They age you prematurely.” I got Grams back to her room. “You have plans the rest of the week?” she asked. “Yeah, just got a tax rebate for a hundred bucks. Let’s roll on over to Atlantic City and drop it on strippers and blow.” “I’ll get my pacemaker checked first. I’m not sure Dr. Thatcher would approve.” “My ears are burning. I wouldn’t approve of what?” I turned to see a shape hovering in the doorway. “Strippers and blow,” I answered. “As a general practice, no.” “Charlie, get Dr. Thatcher to help you put away your props.” I arched a brow. Grams just did that sweet smile thing only old people can pull off. “All right, I’ll see you later.” I brushed past the man in the door. “You don’t need to help me. This is below your paygrade, Dr. T.”

The man with dark hair and amused eyes stared down at me. “It’s fine. Call me Danny.” I led the way to the recreation room and collected the Bluetooth speaker, plus the props—a box of hats and other fun things—and tucked them away in the closet at the end of the hall. “She thinks I need something in my life,” I explained. “Other than strippers and blow.” “Right. So you’re not seeing anyone?” “Not seeing anyone.” I didn’t add the part where I’d had two different vibrators that’d lasted longer than any guy I’d dated since moving to Boston. “You want to get a drink sometime?” “I drink alone.” That should’ve been enough to send any normal guy for the door. But Dr. Thatcher persisted. “Usually I can at least get a ‘maybe.’ I mean, I’m a doctor. I’m not divorced. I have impeccable hygiene.” “I’d lead with hygiene. Build to the doctor thing.” He grinned as he picked up my phone and put his number into it, then texted himself so he’d have mine. “There. In case you ever want to get a drink alone with me.” When I slid into my Uber, I glanced at my phone, at the number Dr. Thatcher had put in. Maybe Grams was right. It wouldn’t kill me to

go one a date. I flipped to my online calendar, my fingers scrolling over the surface of my smartphone. Avery’s was in line with mine, and my gaze drifted there. Why should I care what my boss was doing when I’d been hit on by an attractive, perfectly nice doctor? Because I have the world’s worst taste in men. My gaze landed on an entry in the calendar. Oh shit. I’d booked the client meeting for Avery weeks ago. Before our agreement. Back when you were still fucking with him. This was not going to go over well if he didn’t understand.

Charlie: We need to talk. Call me ASAP

I waited, tapping my phone on my knee. Buildings streaked past, bright lights behind dark facades. I chewed on my lip. Finally made a decision. I leaned forward, holding out my phone to the driver. “Change of plans. I need to go here.”

12

THIS ISN’T A SPECTATOR SPORT

S

ome cities are known for their country music scene. Nashville. Austin. Boston doesn’t make the top ten. I blew in the front door of the country bar I’d found online weeks ago, drawing looks for my denim-free wardrobe. I surveyed the dense crowd of cowboy hats and raucous laughter. No sign of Avery or his companions. I bent over the railing toward the dance floor. “Dammit, Banks, where are you?” I muttered to myself. “The Dirty Denim, same as you.” I jumped, turning to find my boss leaning against the railing next to me. It was like being kicked in the gut with steeltoed boots.

Avery stuck out in the best way in a sea of cowboys, his suit tailored and pressed. His jaw was turned into a soft slash by the low, warm lights. The tie from earlier was gone and the collar of his shirt was open, revealing inches of skin that was suddenly the only thing I could stare at. “I came to explain. In case you wondered why I booked you to meet prospective clients here.” My voice was remarkably level considering ninety percent of my brainpower was processing how fucking hot he looked. Avery braced his forearms on the wood, thankfully not noticing my stare. His gaze ran over the couples two-stepping, the mechanical bull by the stage. “I thought it would be fun to send you to this country bar because—” “The clients are as country as Kanye.” He grimaced, turning. Cool, intelligent eyes landed on my face. “Well, it worked. The evening’s tanking.” I lifted my chin. “That’s not possible.” “You sent us to the last place any of us would want to be.” “Don’t give up. Landing these clients would go a long way to showing Redpath you’re ready to be a director. They’re exactly the kind of clients you should get. And I want to help.” He shook his head, incredulous, then shifted off the railing and started toward the stairs.

I caught up to him in my heeled sandals. Avery paused to let a string of girls on a bachelorette pass. His gaze lingered a little too long on my outfit. “What’s with the clothes. You on a date or something?” “I don’t date. It’s a waste of time.” “One thing we can agree on.” We found the prospective clients no problem. They were the only others in business suits in a crowd of jeans and cowboy hats. The guys Avery was meeting were three founders of a growing industrials firm. Bioenergy. Went from ten to five hundred staff in two years. They’d be a Fortune 500 company soon. They didn’t look nearly as miserable as Avery had suggested, especially when I pulled up with a grin. “Evening, gentlemen. I’m Charlie, a colleague of Avery’s. What are we doing? Whiskey? Dancing?” “Before you arrived, we were just talking about investment options. Cash flow strategies. Exchange rate exposure,” Avery said tightly. I’d never seen Avery in a client meeting offsite. At the office he was efficient. Straightforward. Confident. That presence carried over to the bar, but something wasn’t clicking. I scanned the faces around the circle. Tried to read between the lines.

“I bet you’ve had a long day,” I ventured. “You must be ready to unwind.” Expressions relaxed as they turned toward me. “Now that you mention it, I’m trying to get Ivan up on that thing,” offered a tall man with a lean build. He motioned to his friend, who was short and stocky but all muscle. Ivan Litchfield, I remembered. Chief Financial Officer. I turned to see the giant, hulking shape in the middle of the floor. “Mechanical bull. That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Avery pulled me to the side as the men discussed their odds. Their voices lifted like they’d found a second wind. “What are you doing?” he hissed. I leaned toward his ear, ignoring the hit of his cologne that did strange things to my insides. “They were tired of talking interest rates.” “That’s why we’re here.” “We’re here to get them to like you. You’re auditioning for a relationship, not a one-night stand.” Avery glanced over my shoulder, considering my words. “I want to land them, not kill them.” I played my trump card. “You won’t kill them. Ivan Litchfield did two years of high school rodeo.” His expression shifted. “That’s why you picked

this place. To help land the business. Not to throw me off.” “Maybe both.” The music pounded in my ears, but we could’ve been in a silent room for all I noticed. His moody gaze, though…that was loud. That was heavy. I glanced toward the bull. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, the answer is no.” His voice was just audible over the hum of the room. “I don’t remember asking a question,” I tossed back. Avery stepped toward me, brushed back my hair to speak into my ear. I shivered at the feel of his breath on my skin. “These are my clients. I let you stay, but I forbid you to go up on that bull.” I pulled back an inch to look him in the eyes. “You forbid me? This isn’t the office, boss. It’s the Wild West.” I grinned. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t.” “Because if you do what you’re thinking, dressed like that? Every man in here’s going to drop his beer and his date to watch. And I’m not using your body as a client acquisition strategy.” I raised a brow, curious and slightly breathless. “I don’t think one little bull ride would shut down the bar.” Avery’s gaze dragged down my body, over my

clingy top and skin-tight leggings. “Want to bet?” He walked away, leaving me staring. “What do you think?” Ivan asked, leaning over. “Would you do business with him?” “Yes,” I said when I could speak. “He’s going to run the company someday, and you’ll say ‘I knew him when.’” Ivan raised a brow and his beer. “The man has moves.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Avery talking with a girl at the bar. She flirted up at him, flashing him a wide grin that said can I help you get out of those pants? It was a country bar, for fuck’s sake. He looked like a tornado had picked him up off Wall Street and dropped him in Nashville. Besides, I couldn’t have a little fun but he could? Double standard bullshit. An idea sparked. “Ivan? Twenty bucks says I can outlast you on that thing.” I jerked my head toward the center of the room. He grinned. “You’re on.” We shook on it. Then I ducked into the ring and got up on the bull. The thing was bigger than it looked. I barely had time to settle and grab onto the strap before the monster dove. If I’d thought this was for show, I was wrong. In five seconds, all of my attention went to staying on.

The cheers from the crowd echoed dully in the back of my brain, mixing in with the fuzzy lights and other stimuli. After a few spins that wreaked havoc with my center of gravity, I nearly had it down. Kept my hips pressed close to the bull’s shoulders. The faux-leather pants helped me grip. I caught the prospective clients grinning when the bull paused on a dive. Ivan raised his glass to me and I managed an exhilarated smile. After the next lurch, I caught another set of eyes. This man wasn’t smiling. But it was the look on top of the anger that distracted me. The awareness in my boss’s eyes. The way his hand tightened on his drink. His clenched jaw that said I want to get you alone and strangle you. Or maybe something else. I was caught in the physicality of it. The rawness. My body being pulled and jerked and tested. Is that what my boss would be like in bed? Demanding. Wild. Forcing a girl to respond, touching her again and again until she did? Until her body bent to his? Maybe he could see everything going through my head. Maybe I wanted him to. On that thought, the bull dove under me, and I tightened my grip half a second late. I winced as the bones in my hand compacted. Before I could

think, I was spinning. Shapes whizzed by my vision until all the air was knocked from my lungs as I landed. A chorus of “Awww!” echoed dully in my brain, but before anyone could help me, I stood up and shook myself off. “You OK?” one of the men asked. “Stellar,” I tossed. “Excuse me gentlemen, I’m going to freshen up. When I get back, I expect to see you on that, Ivan.” I brushed past the cheering potential clients for the bathroom. “Charlotte.” I knew the angry voice calling my name over the crowd. And I ignored it. I brushed into the first available unisex washroom. I washed my hands. Dried them on paper towel before staring at myself in the mirror. My pulse still hammered in my throat. If I was being honest, it was only half from the bull ride. I squared my shoulders and strode out, my heels clicking loudly on the floor. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the bathroom. Before I could breathe, I was pinned to the door. “That was unprofessional.” Avery’s furious voice dragged down my spine. My heart hammered against my ribs. The thrill of the ride still reverberated in every part of me. “They loved it. No one got hurt. Hell, those men probably haven’t gotten out to a place like this in

months. They’ll be eating out of your hand by the end of the night.” “That’s what you’re after. Men eating out of your hand.” The yellow light cast long shadows in the small room. In the corner of my eye Avery’s reflection bounced back at me from the mirror over the sink. My mouth curved at the corner, trembling. “Depends on the man.” Country music drifted through the door. I felt it in my back. But most of my attention was taken up by the man looming over me. His shoulders blocked out the light, his face half cast in shadows. “If I told you to get up in the morning and go to bed at night, I bet you’d do the opposite. Just to defy me.” “It does bring me some satisfaction.” “Really? Because I’m not getting any satisfaction, Charlotte.” The struggle was evident in the lines of his face. The tension in his body. “I’m wound so fucking tight I could snap.” “Well,” I said softly. “Something else we have in common.” I angled my chin up, asking him. Daring him. Sensations shooting from my waist down had me sucking in a breath. I realized his fingers had found my waist, over my thin top. Pressing just hard enough to hold me in place.

I didn’t even know if he was aware of it, but I sure as hell was. “I realized something today,” he muttered. “The way we fight turns you on, doesn’t it.” “Yes.” He didn’t need the word. He could see the answer written on my face. My parted lips. My wide eyes. His thumb caught the edge of my shirt, and the next upward stroke had his skin rubbing mine. I gasped. “You’re the one who said we’re out of the office. The Wild West was it? So tell me. Under these—” his hand spanned my hips, pressing along the top of my leggings just below my stomach, and had me sucking in a breath “—are you soaked?” Shit. It took a minute for me to get past his hypnotic voice, the sight of his lips inches from mine. His hand curled around mine. The intimacy of it stole my breath. Until he lifted two of my fingers to his mouth. Wrapped his tongue around them. Fire streaked down my spine. Holy hell. The pull of his mouth drew a cord that tugged on my whole spine, ending in the pulsing heat between my legs. What are you—? I realized I hadn’t said the words out loud. I couldn’t find my voice.

He moved my hand to my waist, dragged both our fingers along the waistband of my pants in a way that had me biting my lip. “Let’s find out.” I didn’t know what his game was. Until he worked his hand down the front of my leggings. Correction. Our hands. My fingers brushed my slick flesh and holy shit — Avery groaned. “You’re dripping. Right through this lace. Fuck, that’s perfect.” His voice was gravel, his gaze pinning me in place. His presence was more than I could take, but when he dragged my fingers over my clit, forced my hips to buck toward him… “This is what you wanted. When you were riding that bull, daring me to do something about it,” he murmured. It was my fingers wet from my arousal, that were lighting up the nerves in my skin. But it was him touching me. Him turning me on. I was beyond making sense of this, but also beyond doing anything but feeling. Craving. “You wished you were at home, rubbing one out. Taking care of the ache.” His voice was as dark and seductive as his words. “Tell me you think of me when you do that. Because I sure as hell think of you.”

I could’ve left at any moment. Could’ve said no, slipped past him and out the door. He wouldn’t have stopped me. But I wasn’t ready to run. My other hand reached out, fingers twisting around a button of his shirt. I arched my hips, my eyes falling shut. He moved my fingers lower, and I didn’t resist. Couldn’t. My fingertips teased my opening, the place I felt so empty, and I moaned. His wicked scent did things to my head, until I wanted to grab him. Sink my nails into his skin and rake them down. Mark him as mine, this as ours. He knew the moment I switched from following to leading. I could tell from the noise in his throat. When my fingers slipped inside with the tiniest encouragement from him. My thumb rubbed a slow circle over my clit that had me gasping. I couldn’t stop. His hard body, close enough to touch. His dark smell, taking over my brain. Fuck it. Holding onto his shirt wasn’t enough. My arm reached up, pulled him closer. Tightened on the muscles of his neck. My breath hitched and I sucked in his air, his mouth an inch from mine. He turned away, his mouth brushing my neck with an open-mouthed kiss. But the tension in his body said this wasn’t as easy as he wanted it to look. “That’s so hot.” He murmured it against the shell of my ear like an afterthought. His touch trapped my hand between his warm skin and my

desperate body. All of it added to the storm inside me. Avery started to pull his hand back but I grabbed his arm. Held it there. He didn’t touch me where I was wet, but his hand never left mine. Traced the back of my fingers. I felt the wetness coat both of us and it was hot as hell. It was impossible, but the tremors going through my body meant I was getting there. There. That sweet, incomparable place that lets you forget your life for a few moments. Minutes. “Avery,” I panted. “Yeah.” “This is not a spectator sport.” My gaze fought his. Finally he groaned, relenting. His shoulders came closer as his hand slipped past mine. He slid a finger inside me and I cried out. My fingers rubbed furious circles on my clit as he worked in and out of me. His low grunts added encouragement. A second finger pressed inside me, and I groaned his name. I was ten seconds from reaching nirvana thanks to my boss’s dirty words, and his relentless fucking hand. My breath came in little pants as my head fell

back against the door. Avery’s breath was heavy in my ear. “Tell me when.” “Now. Oh, shit, now.” I fell over the edge, crying out as I came against his—and my—hand. The tremors rocked me, starting at my core and extending through my limbs. My back hurt from the hard wood door, my jaw ached from tension, and my fingers were cramped from… Well. Yeah. None of it mattered. The feeling tearing through me had rendered the rest irrelevant as I panted, trying to catch my breath. Both our hands were still down my pants. When he pulled back his hand, brushing my clit on the way, I jumped. His gaze locked with mine, and it started a whole new wave of sensation. His hair fell over his face, lips parted. The man looked like he’d just run a marathon in a suit. The dark eyes a million miles deep were familiar. But there was something new in Avery’s face. Yeah, this didn’t exactly go down like I’d planned either. It was better. Somehow he’d just made me come, and all I could think about was demanding he do it again.

Or maybe returning the favor… “Anyone in there?” This time the vibration was through my back. Fuck, didn’t we lock this? Apparently not. The door burst in. Avery’s hard body braced my fall, his arm wrapping around me on instinct as I lost my balance. The group of girls laughed drunkenly as they took in the situation. “Get a room,” one of them whined. I slammed the door again. When I turned back, he was washing his hands at the sink. Drying them on paper towel. His gaze met mine in the mirror, and this time it was almost normal. Avery turned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You should go home, Charlotte. I’ll finish with the clients.” “You sure?” “Yeah.” He straightened his tie. I wanted to ask him where the hell this side of him had come from. I wanted to flip the lock and beg him to keep going. Avery jerked the door open and started down the hall, the line of women parting so he could pass. Most of them turned to watch him go. “Avery Banks,” I called, oblivious to the other people in the way. He turned back, raising a brow over the top of the crowd.

I cocked my head. “Call me?” Avery shook his head in exasperation, but I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched. I watched him disappear, adjusting his cuffs on the way. “Are you done yet?” the girl at the front of the line demanded. “One sec.” I slammed the door behind me, locking out the chorus of boos from the line of people. I took a moment to do something I might’ve forgotten how to do. Breathe.

13

ONE TASTE IS NEVER ENOUGH

“Y

es, this is Charlie.” I strained to hear my phone over the noise of traffic on my way into work. “What? No. You’re fucking with me.” I hung up and stumbled up the sidewalk to Alliance, ducking in the front doors. My heels clacked on the floor as I barreled over the marble. I dashed into the elevators as the doors closed. The gala team meeting was already underway by the time I tripped in the door. “Charlie, does the venue have all the specs for the band?” “So about that. I spent an hour on the phone with the quartet’s manager earlier this week. But he called this morning to cancel.” “What?”

“The first violinist has pneumonia. I asked if they could swap in someone else—” Mallory’s eyes widened “—but I can tell by your face that’s not a thing.” “Of everything we had to do this week,” she burst out, pointing at a chart on the wall, “that was the most important. It doesn’t matter what color the napkins are if there’s no entertainment. Are they supposed to stand around talking to each other all night?” I wanted to say, It’s completely ridiculous to be focused on throwing a party when the corporate banking department might not exist this time next year. I bet that would’ve set them back. But I couldn’t say anything. I forced myself to take a breath. “Come on. I’m sure they’re not the only entertainment in the city.” I flipped open my phone and started browsing. Mallory hovered over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” “Looking for a replacement.” “You’re checking your Twitter!” She seemed ready to explode. “This is how I look for a replacement.” I tapped the phone. “Social media. YouTube. I mean…how do you find people?” I searched the faces in the room. “Agencies,” one of the guys offered. “Maybe that’s the problem.” I set my phone on

the conference table and shifted forward. “See, the media backlash is that we have a bunch of rich, entitled assholes who aren’t real people running the place. Putting a string quartet in front of an audience doesn’t scream relatable.” Something pinged in the back of my mind. I snatched up the phone again and hit a few buttons. “What about her?” My colleagues crowded around to watch the clip. “She’s a comedian.” “Did she just say ‘vagina’?” “Is she a lesbian?” “I’ve seen her,” I offered. “She’s great.” Mallory scoffed. “We’re a bank.” “Right. And our clients are real people. Real people like to laugh.” Mallory pulled herself up to her full height. “Our brand is serious. Avery obviously read my request for help as desperation. I’m not this desperate.” I shifted back in my seat, deflated, as the video ended. She didn’t mean the comic. She meant me. It shouldn’t matter, because this wasn’t even my job. I was pinch hitting for someone more qualified to order cocktails or whatever the hell PR-types did. I shoved out of my chair. “You’re right. I don’t

belong here. I’ll go back to printing those doublesided nametags. God forbid some old white guy forgets some other old white guy’s name because he got too aggressive on the dance floor and flipped his.” “Wait,” Mallory called. I paused by the door. “Did you run that speech by your boss yet? I emailed it to you yesterday, but here’s a hard copy.” She stuffed it in my hand. I spun on my heel without saying another word. I deliberately avoided our office, heading straight for the elevator. I wasn’t ready to face Avery yet today. Last night had been intense. And hot as hell. But really, how cliché was it that I’d hooked up with my boss in the bathroom? Not that I should be embarrassed. He wasn’t disinterested. In Redpath’s closet, the man had been ten inches of interested, and— Oof. Hands steadied me as I collided with someone exiting the elevator. “You should need a license for those,” Avery grumbled, glancing down at my heels. “Do you ever watch where you’re going or just assume the world will move?” “I wasn’t expecting you.” “Where are you going?” “Away. This entire company, starting with

Mallory, is about to die of intellectual inbreeding.” I stepped into the elevator, stabbing at the button. It didn’t light up the first time, so I hit it again. And again. “Is that for me?” he asked, nodding to the file in my hands. “Your speech. Your wardrobe. Your teeth whitening regimen for the next week.” He lifted the folder from my clenched hands. Scanned the file absently. “American flag pin. How patriotic.” I let out a grunt as the elevator descended. It felt too small. Another three people joined on lower floors, and it was all I could do not to lunge for the exit when the doors dinged open at the lobby. My heels clicked on the floor in a hurried staccato as I bolted for the front doors. I felt him at my back and tried to ignore it. The air outside wasn’t as refreshing as I’d hoped. The heat wave still hadn’t broken. I lifted the hem of my shirt, fanning myself with it. I took a seat on the ledge surrounding the gardens at the front of the building. I stared out toward the street, the rush of midday traffic, as he continued to read. “Will you at least sit down? You’re freaking me out with your hovering.” He did, not bothering to look up. “So this speech. Did you read it?”

“I skimmed it.” “And?” “It’s corporate garbage.” Avery held out the folder. “How would you change it.” “What?” I stumbled on his request. “If you don’t like it, give me something better.” I folded my arms, feeling awkward under his steady gaze. It took me a minute to shift out of defensive mode. “Well. There are a lot of good people who work here. They’re the ones looking after clients’ interests. And that’s what clients need to see. People they can relate to.” I reached inside his jacket, ignoring his raised eyebrows when I lifted a pen from the breast pocket. I bent over the file. “You need to be sincere.” I made some notes. He frowned, pointing to a spot on the page. “Yeah, I’m not saying that.” He took the pen back and crossed out the last thing I’d written. But the amazing part was that he left the rest. We finished going through the three pages. “What do you think?” I asked, surprised to realize that it mattered. “It’s better,” he said. “Makes us sound like we’re real people. The kind that wouldn’t turn around and tell on their colleagues.” My mind flew to Payton. “You mean that.” “Mhmm. You’re right. There’s no reason

management needs to know. As long as she tells them with enough notice to cover for her.” “I’m really glad to hear that.” The grin that spread across my face was unstoppable. Avery blinked at me, like he was momentarily stunned before regaining his focus. “Right. You’ll also be glad to know Litchfield is coming to the gala.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Did they sign on?” “They did.” We shared a smile until I remembered the reason I’d come down here in the first place. “Fuck. There’s a minor wrinkle.” Avery shifted back, setting the folder between us. “What kind of wrinkle.” I told him about the band bailing. To my surprise, he listened without interrupting. “So what are you going to do about it?” “I don’t know. I’ve fucked it all up.” Avery studied me. “The first time I saw you, I was a junior associate and you were bringing coffee from Starbucks into a meeting. My uncle told you you’d done his order wrong. I knew you hadn’t, that it’s a game he plays for whatever reason. “The thing was, you knew that too. I followed you to the kitchen where you switched it for one of the three other coffees you’d ordered in reserve. Then spent the next five minutes on your phone so you weren’t back too quickly.”

His voice had my skin tingling. “I can’t believe you remember that. And that you didn’t turn me in.” “Are you kidding? I was infatuated.” “Because I switched out a coffee.” “Because you handled yourself so easily. Refused to be intimidated. Dove in headfirst.” He’d confessed to the attraction between us. But this felt like more. I’d never thought he noticed what I did, not to mention respected it. I’m not the blushing kind, but the hint of admiration in his tone had color rising in my cheeks. “OK, well…I think we should use this as a chance to do something fresh.” “Fresh,” he repeated. I showed him the video, studying his face. “I know you’ll hate it, but—” “She’s good.” “Really.” I stared at him in amazement. “I didn’t think you’d like stand-up.” “I know how to laugh.” I raised a brow. “I do,” he insisted. “Just not at yourself.” “Who’s going to take you seriously if not yourself?” “Who’s going to laugh at you if not yourself?” I retorted. “Everyone,” he said decisively. “Those comics

have my total respect. I can’t imagine getting up in front of a room and inviting people to laugh at you.” “But you think it’s a good idea for the gala.” He fixed his cufflinks. “It has potential.” “Even if I took this back to Mallory, there’s no way she’d go for it.” “Call another meeting after lunch with the team. We’ll discuss it.” “OK. Thanks.” Avery’s knee bumped mine as he shifted to tuck the folder under his arm. He dropped the pen, and we both bent to pick it up. All it took was the heat racing up my spine. We rose at the same time, our gazes locking. Any humor fell away. Left awareness in its place. About last night… When you got me off with those dirty words and dirty hands… When you left me wanting more… Someone walked past us holding an ice cream cone. The sun suddenly felt even hotter on my skin. “That looks really good right now,” I murmured, relieved by the excuse to look away. “You want one?” “No.” Avery’s voice was firm. “How can you not like ice cream?” “Liking it isn’t the problem,” he said under his breath. “It’s that one taste is never enough. After

the first time…” His deep blue gaze found mine. Pinned me to the spot. “You can’t stop.” Avery held the door and I walked through it. The air conditioning hit me like a wave, but it was too late. I’d already melted again.

14

MUTUAL DESTRUCTION

“W

e need to decide on a new act. Here are some options from the usual suspects.” Mallory slid a piece of paper across the table. Five sets of eyes rested on the man who lifted the sheet. Read it. Let out a sigh that bordered on a groan. He might not have been the oldest one in the room—Mallory had a few years on him—but it was clear his was the voice that mattered. “What if the usual suspects are the problem,” Avery said, dropping the paper to drift back to the table top. “Excuse me?” Mallory stared back at him. Avery shifted. “Clients are losing faith. We don’t need to show them we’re infallible. We need

to show them we’re competent. But also human.” “That’s a very different direction.” Avery had lifted the sheet again, turned it over. “What about the comedian option? I don’t see that here.” Mallory’s eyes bugged out. “Are you serious?” “Nothing else is working. So let’s try that.” He glanced around the table. “We’re done here, yes?” Mallory nodded, mute, as Avery shifted out of his seat, buttoned his jacket with one hand, and headed for the door without looking back. We finished running through our business, and I couldn’t wait to get out. Good thing Avery was gone. Otherwise I might’ve chased him and tackled him. Rode him down the hall like a damned pony to the elevator. But the electric buzz that ran through my veins as I packed up my things wouldn’t quit. It didn’t diminish when I called Mia, the comedian, and left a message, or when she called me back fifteen minutes later to say she was in. In fact, the feeling of energy and euphoria had me skipping down the street. I picked something up before returning to Alliance. The office was empty, so I perched on my desk for a few minutes until Avery strode in, pulling the door behind him against the noise of construction outside. Damn, just seeing him had me soaring. His tall

build. Polished suit. The competent way he lifted his phone out of his pocket and dropped it on his desk. “Did you get the comedian?” “Mhmm. And I got you something. For backing me up in that meeting.” His gaze flicked to the treat in my hand, unimpressed. “It’s a half-eaten ice cream cone.” “It was an untouched ice cream cone, but you were out when I got back. If it helps, I’ve been thinking of you the whole time.” Avery hung his jacket on the back of his chair. Slow. His gaze never left mine. “You have.” “Uh-huh.” Our conversation outside this morning had reaffirmed something. We’d been killing time. Treading water. Circling each other. None of the tension had gone away. If anything, it’d dialed up. Which was why I couldn’t resist licking a slow strip around the middle of the ice cream. Watching his eyes flicker when I did. “What are you doing.” A slow smile pulled at my lips. “I have all this energy. Who knew doing something good at work was such a rush. But this…this feels incredible.” Avery shifted off the desk and spanned the distance between us in a few deliberate steps.

His charcoal suit was cut to perfection over his hard body. The pale mauve shirt should’ve softened him. Instead it accentuated the hard line of his jaw. The cobalt of his eyes. “Nice tie,” I murmured. “Thanks.” I hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it earlier in my stressed out state, but now? With just him and me and a tidal wave of need? The Tie was my downfall. Because he did look like a prince. And maybe he wasn’t the chivalrous Disney kind, but damn if he wasn’t better than he let on. It was sexy. All of it. A shiver ran down my arm. I noticed the drop that’d run down the forgotten ice cream cone and dripped onto my other hand. I lifted my hand to my mouth. Slow. Then sucked the ice cream off. God, double mocha fudge is good. Almost as good as the way he’s staring like he wants to lick you. My voice was low and a little rough. “The way you were in that meeting…I’ve never had someone stand up for me like that.” He lifted a shoulder, but the move couldn’t be mistaken for casual. Not from the intensity in his expression. “It was business.”

“Is that what this is? Business?” He took a step toward me, and I felt the rush in every cell of my being at his closeness. His hard body. His masculine scent. His expression of confidence, swirled with a hint of wariness and arousal that was so damn him. “It’s business when you finger bang me after dark at some bar?” “It was your bar,” he breathed. “And your fingers.” I reached for The Tie. Felt my body tingle with anticipation as I slid it down. “Funny.” My fingers found the top button of his shirt, snug against his neck. I popped it open. “Charlotte, this isn’t happening.” I might’ve believed him if it wasn’t for the edge of temptation that lurked in his voice. “Because it’s wrong? You and I both know this place is so full of rules you can’t use the bathroom without breaking a dozen.” I reached for a second button and worked it free. “You’ve already fired me, and we both know this isn’t a play to get my job back. Sex is a healthy way for adults to blow off steam. And judging from what happened at Denim?” The third button I had to work at because his gaze had dropped to my mouth and I was having trouble concentrating…but finally it popped free too.

“You have some serious steam to blow off.” I took another lick of the ice cream, then shifted forward and put my mouth on his chest. Avery hissed out a breath as the cold hit him. But all I could feel was heat. Taste the chocolate mixing with his flavor. “You taste so good,” I murmured against his skin. His hand tightened on my hip. It was the sweetest fucking game. Exploring his chest, the muscles that jumped under my touch. My kiss. Feeling him shift closer even as he resisted. My fingers worked open the rest of his shirt. Holy shit, the guy was cut. I trailed my lips down his chest. Pausing to nip along the way just to feel his sharp intake of breath. I dropped the ice cream into my coffee mug. Then continued to blaze a hot trail with my mouth. My lips curved against his skin as I trailed down to his belt. The serious bulge in his pants had me aroused and satisfied at once. I stripped my shirt over my head, and his gaze darkened. I made quick work of his belt, reached into his shorts, and wrapped my fingers around his cock. If I’d ever wondered where his confidence came from? This wasn’t a bad place to start. I let out a little moan. My mouth watered from the feel of him, soft over hard. From the challenge of wrapping my hand around him enough to

squeeze, and… He grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing.” “You’re not ready?” I batted my eyelashes. “I’ve been ready since the day I met you.” The frank words sent a shiver through me. “I’ve always wanted you, even though I shouldn’t.” I pulled back. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? For two years, I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me.” “It was easier. Cleaner. Even if you didn’t work for me—” his voice said it still bothered him “—I’d be one in a long line of men vying for your attention. I don’t line up for women. Not even you.” “Maybe I’m worth lining up for.” I ran my hand over him, and he hissed out a breath. “Damn, boss,” I said softly. “Maybe you’re worth lining up for too.” I squeezed the base of his cock, and his jaw tightened. Even if this wasn’t black and white, it was a midnight kind of gray. But whatever had been building between us, there was no ignoring it anymore. Not when my fist slid down the swollen length of his cock, tearing a sexy groan from his throat. A noise had both our heads snapping toward it. The phone on my desk. A reminder of exactly where we were. And how

bad this was. We exchanged a look. “No,” he said under his breath. I smiled. On the final ring, I felt the muscles in my arm twitch. He reached for my hand, but I was faster, hitting speaker. “Charlie Merriweather,” I said brightly. “I have the CEO calling for Mr. Banks.” Redpath’s assistant was all business. Her professional tone sounded strange after the pants, groans, and murmurs I’d gotten used to in the past few minutes. “One moment please.” I hit the mute button. Avery’s commanding glare hit me full force. “Don’t you dare. You said we were on the same side.” I bit my lip. “We are. That doesn’t mean I don’t like to tease you.” “Charlotte, I’m going to strangle you with this bra, I swear to—” I hit unmute as he grabbed for my hands. Managed to get them, pin them to the desk. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Redpath.” “Avery. I wanted to talk about this program of yours in advance of your performance review conversation. Is now a good time?” “Of course.” He cleared his throat, eyed up the glass of water on the corner of my desk. Then

reached for it, releasing my hand as he did. It was sexy as fuck, his hair wild from my hands. Him hovering over me. I reached for him again, brushed my thumb over the head of his cock, and he jerked under my touch. The warning look he shot me was the hottest aphrodisiac. Oh, yeah. I liked fucking with him. This was way better than pranks. It was mutual satisfaction. Mutual torture. Mutual destruction. “I’m encouraged by the potential of the program as a sales development tool. However, given our public exposure at the moment, I have some concerns. About data safety, and access. To be blunt, I’m not sure it’s the right time to signal we’re amassing large amounts of client data, even if it will help them in the long run.” “I understand,” Avery ground out, his voice pulled tight like an elastic about to snap. “But this could transform the corporate banking department.” His hand covered mine, intending to pull me away. Until I stroked down his length. Avery’s head fell back and his grip loosened. I bit my lip. Did it again. “Then there needs to be a way to do this while managing client concerns about confidentiality. Until you have that, I’m afraid we can’t even look at deploying the system.”

“Let me see what I can do to…” he gritted his teeth “…speed things along.” “We may be able to find some resources to support you. Come talk to my assistant as soon as you have the chance.” “Thank you, Mr. Redpath. I’ll—do—that...” I knew he was getting close. I kept stroking, using the wetness as lube. Redpath clicked off, and Avery groaned. “Holy fucking hell you’re the devil.” My fingers dug into the hard, flexing muscles of his back as warmth spilled over my body. I closed my eyes, basking in the feel of his shaking muscles. The slipperiness of his cock in my hand. The sticky heat coating my stomach. Normally I don’t care much about the male orgasm. But seeing, hearing, feeling my controlfreak boss lose his shit because of me? It was something else. By the time he pulled back to look at me, my pulse had only just started to recover. Which was crazy, because he’d barely been touching me. It was all my hands on him. When his gaze dragged down my body to linger on the evidence of what we’d done coating my skin? I’d never felt sexier in my life. He shook his head like he needed to clear it. “I should see Redpath’s assistant. Let me clean you

up.” He reached for the box of tissues, and I took it from him. “I’m good. Thanks.” I cleaned off what we’d done as he adjusted his pants. Re-buttoned his shirt. “So,” he started as he re-looped the tie that’d ended up on the floor around his neck. “Was that getting me back for last night?” My mouth tugged at the corner as I straightened my shirt. “Just showing you that if you don’t take this place so seriously, you might actually have some fun around here.” My attention drifted down to my “Black like my soul” coffee mug on my desk, full of melted ice cream. The cone sat on top like a sad hat. “It’s too bad about the ice cream, though.” “Charlotte?” Avery’s hot gaze met mine as he straightened his tie, pulling the knot tight against his neck. “Fuck the ice cream.”

15

NSFW

“H

ow’s the job search going?” Payton asked over the rim of her lookalike G&T, which I knew for a fact was

just T. I shifted on my bar stool, crossing one leg over the other. “Great. No—better than great. I interviewed this morning.” OK, the truth was I’d forgotten about the interview until the voicemail reminder the night before that I had an interview for an admin position at a dentist’s office. “What does the job involve?” “Scheduling appointments. Handling billing. We get maybe twenty patients through a day. It’s a small clinic.” “Sure.”

“You have much experience with children?” I blinked at one of the two women in scrubs interviewing me. “Not really. But it’s a dentist’s admin position, right? I mean. I’m not babysitting.” My interviewers exchanged an amused look. “No, it’s not babysitting. But sometimes a parent will get distracted. Take a call. Go out for a smoke. It’s helpful if you can make sure no one swallows a Lego brick.” “Right. And how do you do that? Tackle them?” “No, no. You can’t touch the children.” “OK…” “Reason with them. Distract them. Entertain them.” I laughed, the sound dying off as they stared back at me. “Oh. You’re serious.” Payton leaned forward. “And how did it go?” “Oh. You know. Fine.” I reached for the drink the bartender passed me. It was the same as Payton’s, with the addition of a heavy shot of G. “You sound pretty casual for a woman who’s going to be out of a job in two weeks.” “If the gala goes anything like I think it will, Avery’s going to land that job blindfolded.” “I thought you couldn’t wait to be out of here.” I sipped the drink and scanned the room. The crowd for Throwdown Thursday was thick as

always. “It’s not all bad. I get free cookies. Air conditioning, most of the time.” “Your change of position on Alliance has nothing to do with the man who showed up to his own associates meeting this afternoon with his shirt buttoned wrong.” I frowned. “Seriously?” A grin broke over her face. “No, but he might as well have. It took him five minutes to answer a simple question. And I caught him staring off into space more than once.” She leaned forward. “So tell me. Did you?” “What. Hold hands behind the bleachers?” “No. Did you fuck hi—” “Ladies.” I choked on my drink at the sound of Avery’s voice. I turned to see him standing just behind me. His tie was gone. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone—a new record. Excluding this afternoon, when I’d gotten a lot more done than two. “Charlie told me you were going to be discreet.” Payton glanced at her stomach. “Thanks for that.” “It’s not a big deal.” “It kind of is. Remember when Brenda used to work in our group?” My boss frowned. “Exactly. She was supposed to be on the fast track to management. She had a kid, and Hollister decided

she wasn’t coming back.” “They can’t legally do that.” Avery shifted, seeming uncomfortable with the words. “No. But there are lots of ways it happens. Downsizing. Getting passed over for promotions. There’s more than enough discretion in the system.” Payton sipped her drink. “Well, it would be a shame if that happened to you.” “Here here,” I offered, hiding my smile behind my drink. My friend shot me a curious look while Avery ordered something from the bartender. “I heard you’re doing an on-air news interview next week,” she said when he returned. “A millennial perspective on modern finance.” “It was Charlotte’s idea, actually.” Avery glanced at me before his attention migrated smoothly to Payton. “She arranged it with Mallory. We all know it’s toeing the company line. But we’ll take the good press. Once the Sox are in first, Hollister won’t be news anymore.” I set my drink down. “Payton would be great in front of an audience. She’s charming. And funny. And good-looking.” Avery raised a brow in my direction. “Good thing I hired you to look after my files and not my ego.” “No way.” Payton glanced between us, and I

tore my gaze away from my boss. “I figured you guys were… But I didn’t think…” Avery frowned. “What.” She smiled secretively. “Nothing. I see Emma, and I need to ask her something. Be right back.” “What was that about?” Avery mused, lifting his drink to his lips. Tilt was bustling around us. Someone brushed behind me for the bar, bumping me closer to him. “No idea.” There’s something different about having a conversation with someone who’s seen you naked. Even in a crowded bar, there’s an intimacy about it. “So tell me,” Avery started. “What trouble have you gotten into since I saw you last?” Last being three hours ago, when you came all over my stomach. “They were supposed to deliver the materials today. They delivered signage for the LGBTQ Alliance.” “We’re more progressive than I thought.” I grinned, and his face relaxed a few degrees. “How about you?” I asked. “I have a call in to Redpath’s assistant to understand corporate’s exact concerns about the program.” “Wait, if you don’t get it running, that’s a problem. Because it’s the core of your ‘promote me’ campaign.”

“Exactly. But I’m getting stonewalled by the assistant.” He tapped his glass on the wooden bar in frustration. “See, this is why I need to be director. I can move this stuff along.” I cocked my head. “Being the boss isn’t the only way to get what you want, you know. Maybe if you showed her you appreciate her.” “For doing her job?” “Yes. It’s people like me who let people like you be successful. We can do our jobs fast or slow. If you show people you care, maybe they’ll do it faster.” “That actually works.” “Worth a try.” “Huh.” He nodded at my empty glass, wordlessly asking if I wanted another. I shook my head. “Monday you’ll have your space to yourself again.” The memo this afternoon had said the floors would be done over the weekend. I could’ve sworn disappointment flickered through his gaze. “What. Don’t tell me you’re going to miss me?” Avery rubbed a hand over his jaw, rueful. “I’ll get a hell of a lot more work done.” I wondered if he was remembering the way I’d pulled his tie down. Then unbuttoned his shirt. Then jerked him off. He glanced toward my stomach like he was

wondering if I’d washed it off. How many times do you have to hook up before you’re officially messing around? It sure as hell felt like this was a thing. On the list of NSFW activities not to be undertaken at the office…this was at the top. But it was so good. “What are you wearing,” Avery murmured. “Excuse me?” “To the gala in a week.” “Oh. Right.” The way he demanded made me wonder what he was going to do with that information. If he was just curious, or if he was going to use it for a mental visual tonight in the shower. I really wanted it to be the second. “A dress. It’s black. Tight. Ends about here.” I drew a line midway down my thighs, and his gaze followed. “Where does it start?” I drew my finger over my clavicle. “Got to leave something to the imagination.” “Mmm. I have an excellent imagination.” I went from having my shit together to wet panties in about two seconds. Avery must’ve read it on my face because his hand found my waist under the edge of the bar, where no one would see. Stroking my side with his thumb.

I didn’t want to be standing here in this bar. I wanted Tilt to fall away, and every last person with it, until it was just me and him. I wanted him to strip off every piece of clothing and put that dirty mouth on me. “Hey! I’m back.” Payton pulled up beside us, along with Rose. I blinked out of my fantasy. “Any plans tonight?” I asked Rose, noticing she was wearing some new heels and had her hair looked more styled than usual. Rose made a face. “I had a dinner date, but I’m going to have to cancel. I have to run a favor for Armand.” Avery raised a brow. “Now?” “Yeah. I’m on probation since I’m a temp.” She flushed. “I shouldn’t even be talking about it. It’s fine.” We realized at the same time the awkwardness of her venting to the nephew of the man she worked for. The power dynamic was suddenly painfully obvious. “I want to send all the assistants to lunch,” Avery announced. “Bartley’s. Pick any day next week. I’ll give Charlotte my credit card, you can do your worst.” “Me too?” Payton asked innocently. “Nice try. Just the admin staff. Unless you’re offering to help with my expense claims.”

Payton held up her hands. “Not even for lobster rolls.” “Fine, then.” With a satisfied look, Avery turned and started toward the door. Rose blinked at both of us. “What’s Bartley’s?” “Expensive seafood and Italian place,” I offered. “High-end clients only. Or this week, apparently, us.” The smile stretched across her face. “It’s Emma’s favorite,” Payton jumped in. “She’s going to freak when she finds out.” She turned to me. “You know anything about that?” “Nothing. Be right back, OK?” I wove my way through the crowd to the door. I caught up with him outside on the curb, grabbing the arm of his jacket. “What was that?” I asked, breathless. His sea blue eyes lightened as he squinted against the sun. “Appreciation.” “So where are you going in such a hurry?” I asked, my throat dry. It was stupid, but I wasn’t ready to see him leave. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on. “I forgot to get my sister a birthday present. She’s going to New York this weekend with friends.” I remembered the sister I’d talked briefly with on the phone. “You guys deal with the tuition thing yet?”

“There’s nothing to deal with. It’s paid, and she can’t do a thing about it.” It was arrogant and high handed. But my heart melted a little. Avery glanced toward the street, then back at me. “Want to help me pick something out for her? As my assistant,” he added. “I think that’s the first time you’ve asked me to do something.” “I ask you all the time.” “You tell me to do things.” Avery shoved his hands in his pockets. “Fine, if you don’t want to—” “Give me two minutes.” I dashed back inside to pay my bar bill and say goodbye to my friends before returning, sliding on my own sunglasses. “What do you usually get her?” I asked as we strode down Newbury side by side. “Gifting isn’t my strength.” “No judgment.” “Bed, Bath and Beyond. Home repair. A phone.” I glanced over at him; his expression was hidden behind the Ray-Bans. “That’s so responsible of you.” He shot me a look. “I had to be. My mother had…difficulties. One of which was making decisions.” His voice grated like he was reliving it.

“What about your father?” “He left when I was fourteen. Kenna was four.” “I’m sorry.” My throat burned. “What happened?” “I don’t talk about it.” “With me or with anyone?” “Anyone.” I focused on the sidewalk in front of me, but I could feel him at my side. “Maybe you should try.” I thought he was going to change the subject, or stop talking entirely. But half a block later he spoke again. “They had a complicated relationship. She’d hurt him, he’d hurt her back. But my mother blamed Kenna when he finally left.” “Why?” “Because she’d had an affair. And Kenna was the product of that affair.” He said it matter-of-factly, but I saw his hand fist at his side. “One night I got home after hanging out with a friend and Kenna was sitting in the kitchen with a spilled box of Cheerios because my mom wouldn’t feed her dinner. Another time she left Kenna at the mall. “But I knew things had escalated the day of the accident. She’d been on the phone in the car, talking to one of her friends. Kenna was in the back seat—not in her car seat, though. My mom drove through a red light and totaled the car. Kenna

wound up with a broken arm, but it could have been worse.” “That must have been terrifying.” “You’d think so. But it barely affected my mother. That’s when I realized: my mother didn’t want Kenna.” “What about you?” “She’d look at me like I was my father. Some days that was good, other days it was bad. So I starting taking over the house, making decisions. Getting groceries. Cooking meals. Managing the budget. Signing Kenna’s forms for school. I didn’t trust our mother to look after Kenna. “One day she called me on it. Told me to leave. Unless I thought I was a better parent, in which case I should take Kenna and go.” “An ultimatum?” He nodded. “She was incapable of making the right choices. Everything she wanted was to make her life better, not our lives. So I took Kenna and went. “My father had left me enough money for school. I’d saved some thanks to scholarships, and Armand helped me get the job at Alliance. I was able to get the down payment for a townhouse. Kenna moved in with me when she was fourteen. It wasn’t legal, but my mom wasn’t about to challenge it.” The sun beaming down on us was a stark

contrast to the heavy conversation. I took in the other pedestrians on the sidewalk, wondering which of them were harboring secrets like the ones Avery carried around with him. Like we both did. “It must have been hard, living with a teenage girl.” “There were days I questioned it,” he said dryly. “But it was the right thing to do.” “So you finished law school but you didn’t practice.” “I could’ve been disbarred for having Kenna live with me without my mother’s consent. But it wasn’t right. I couldn’t uphold rules like that.” I processed what he’d told me. “If you could go back, would you change anything?” Avery hesitated. “No. I wanted Kenna to have the same opportunities as me, which is why I’m supporting her school. She works as a camp counsellor every July and August. It doesn’t pay much, but she loves it. She’s offered to take on more than that, but I don’t want her to. She’ll get up and have to work every day for the rest of her life, and it’ll come sooner than she thinks. Through everything she’s been through, she’s stayed tough. And positive.” “That’s kind of amazing.” “She is.” “I meant you.”

His head turned toward me, surprise etched on his face. We waited in silence for the light to change so we could cross the street. “This is the most I’ve talked about myself in… ever.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t make me regret it.” “Of course not. Besides, I can’t be the only one you’ve ever talked to.” At his blank look, I went on. “I mean, you must have had girlfriends.” “No. Just a few women I’ve taken to work things.” “And you’ve never wanted one?” I was interested. Not fishing. “Relationships breed dependence. Most successful people put one thing first. Thinking about other people makes you weak. Keeps you from having your head on straight. Anyway, enough about me. You have brothers? Sisters?” “Two brothers, Matt and Jimmy. Both older. They used to get into a lot of trouble.” “Only them?” Avery’s mouth pulled up at the corner. “Oh, yeah. I was an angel. But Jimmy’s getting married soon.” “You’re going.” “I’m not sure. There’s a lot going on here.” He leveled me with a look. “Charlotte, I’m not a monster. You can go home for your brother’s wedding.”

“It’s not that. In fact, it’ll be after I finish at Alliance. It’s just…I left my hometown abruptly. A major scandal.” Avery waited, and I forced a smile. “I had an affair with a married man.” The startled expression on his face was reasonable. I’d never said the words to anyone except Payton and my grandparents. Plus, given what he’d shared about hit family…I could understand if he’d hate me for it. “I know. It’s kind of fucked.” I forced my attention to the pavement in front of us, trying not to care about his reaction. “I’m not judging you.” His voice said that wasn’t quite true, but I believed he was trying. “But I don’t understand why you would. You could have any man you wanted.” I slanted him a look. “You think so, huh?” “You’re smart. Resourceful. Funny. Thoughtful.” He paused. “Beautiful.” The flush that rose up in my cheeks had nothing to do with the heat. “I was also eighteen. And he lied about not having a wife.” I swallowed the familiar pain that rose up, forged ahead. “Anyway, my grandparents helped me out. Took me in. But today’s not about my family, it’s about yours.” I could tell Avery was going to push, but we were interrupted. “Excuse me.” I glanced back at the young

woman behind us. “This is so weird, but I have to know…are you Blond Bitch? If not, you look just like her. Can I get a picture?” I smiled. “Sure.” I held my bag to a confused Avery as I posed for a selfie with the girl. She grinned and headed off down the sidewalk. “What the hell just happened.” “I told you about my social account where I post fashion stuff and review shoes.” “Fifty thousand followers,” he said, nodding. “But I didn’t realize you were a media personality.” I clicked onto my phone, showed it to him. “BBB,” he read off the profile. “Boston Blond Bitch.” He scrolled through my feed. “I’m following you as of right now.” I rolled my eyes and snatched my phone back. “Don’t. That’s the best part. It’s anonymous. Er, mostly. ” He’d found the profile on his own and was in the process of scrolling through posts. I knew what he’d see—photos and caustic one-liners about shoes and outfits. What I didn’t know was what he’d make of it. He pulled the sunglasses down his nose to shoot me a look. “You’re kind of hot, you know that?” “Shut up.” “I’m not kidding. Look, this guy Tweeted you a

proposal. Does this happen often?” I laughed. “Nope. And it only counts if it’s in person. Like, with a ring.” “How many of those have you had.” “Two.” Avery shook his head slowly. I tucked my arm in his as the walk sign lit up and we started moving again. “Come on. Let’s get your sister the birthday present of a lifetime.”

16

SEX! WITH A MAN!

“S

eriously? This is better than soap?” Avery held up a lantern and inspected it. “A million times yes.” The camping store was one I’d seen advertised but had never been to. Camping is not high on my priority list. Still, it was fun to have an excuse to wander the aisles of gear and clothing. “We all think that buying more shit will make us happy. But we care about experiences. That’s what we’ll remember.” “Experiences,” he echoed. “Yeah. Like, I’ve always dreamed of taking my grandma to New York to see Kinky Boots.” Avery froze. I laughed at his expression. “It’s a musical. Grams was a Rockette but hasn’t visited New York

since my grandfather died five years ago.” “So do it.” I lifted a shoulder. “It’s expensive. You know what I make.” “Says the woman who gets free designer shoes. You’ll figure it out. You could figure out anything.” His confidence warmed me as I picked a neon pink Thermos off a shelf. Unscrewed the lid and looked inside. “You know, I do have a few thousand in the freezer.” He shot me a horrified look. “You work at a bank and that’s how you save.” I let out a laugh. “It’s from promotions on BBB. A little side hustle.” Avery came up behind me as I set the Thermos back down. “Of course it is.” His admiring look had my mouth pulling up at the corner. “Don’t you have any hobbies?” I asked. “Played poker online through school.” “You like it fast and loose.” “I like winning.” He followed me up the stairs to the second level. That’s when I saw it. It sat up on a platform, surrounded by others. But this one was perfect—a shiny beacon of gifting greatness. “Bingo,” I breathed. “No way. It’s a coffin.” “Come on!” I dropped to my knees and crawled

inside the two-person tent. I waited a moment before Avery’s head appeared between the zippered panels. Laughter bubbled up as he crawled in after me. “I’ve always wanted to see you crawl.” But he made it in and I managed to zip the thing closed after us. “This is a neon advertisement telling the bears and the cougars where to find you,” Avery grunted as we wedged in next to each other. “We don’t have cougars here. Besides, there’s something romantic about it.” I scooched over onto my back, blinking up at the ceiling. “There’s no room. If I breathe, I’m choking on nylon.” I rolled to face him. He should’ve looked ridiculous lying on his side in the tent, the dim light filtering through. He didn’t. He looked like a Burberry ad transplanted into the middle of the woods. Because with the zipper shut, I could imagine that’s where we were. It was wicked appealing. Avery’s smell filled my nose. He was everywhere, and suddenly all I could think about was how big he was. That his mouth was inches away. His gaze roamed mine, and I knew the second our brains synced up. At least I hoped they did,

hoped I wasn’t the only one with some pretty basic needs hijacking my mental capacity. My lumberjack fantasy came back full force. Plus a shockingly detailed memory of the way he’d come on my tits, his face a mask of tension and satisfaction. His hand went to my hip, his thumb brushing in the hollow there, and I had to remember how to breathe. “So you’re out here, under the stars,” I whispered. “The…fresh air.” Fuck fresh air. “Um. Nature.” Fuck nature. The tent was our cocoon, protecting us from the rest of the world. He inched closer, and when his hand reached to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, I could feel his heart beat through our clothes. “Since we’re out here in the forest…can I tell you something?” he murmured. All I could do was nod. Avery’s mouth brushed my ear. “I want to fuck you so fucking badly.” I swear I melted. It wasn’t poetry. Or a song. It was better, because it was true. Our gazes met and he shifted over me, slow and controlled. His hard body pressed mine into the ground. Floor.

Whatever. What was important was that mouth that I was suddenly desperate to taste was a breath away. In fact, every part of him was in arms’ reach. Now, in this private place with him, I wanted him to kiss me. Then keep going. “It kills me when you look at me like that,” Avery murmured. “It’s got me remembering how soft you are under my hands.” He stroked my breast and I arched against him, lighting up from his touch through my thin shirt. “Here…” he moved to my waist, reaching under the hem to tease the skin there. “And here…” he squeezed my ass before hitching my leg around his hip. “I want to touch every inch of you. Taste what I’ve touched. Fuck myself into your brain the way you’re in mine.” He murmured it against my ear and my mouth fell open. I pressed my hips against him. I was on overdrive, every part of me responding to his voice, his touch. I needed his hands to strip off my clothes. I needed his mouth to follow. He pulled back an inch, staring down at my face. Studying me. I wondered what he saw. My lips trembling. My eyes wide with desire, and conflict. My throat worked. “After you kissed me in the trees that time—” my voice shook a little “—I had

a dream.” His expression darkened. “Yeah?” “Mhmm. It was you and me in the middle of the forest. You were a lumberjack, and…” I trailed off as I felt his shoulders start to rock. “Seriously?” My hand slapped him in the shoulder. “Yes. It’s my fantasy, don’t knock it.” “Sorry. Keep going.” He tried to keep a straight face. “You lift me up against this tree. And it’s green all around us and you dive under my skirt.” The humor fell away, replaced by heat. “Then what.” “Then you make me scream.” The tension in his face matched his body now, and it radiated off him. “I don’t know how many times I got off to that. Though when I’m at home, the role of you is played by my vibrator.” Avery’s lashes lowered as he studied my face. “Toys can’t do what I can do.” “You’d be surprised.” He shook his head once. “They can’t look into your eyes and know you need it slower, even though you’re begging for faster. That you’re about to come. Can’t add a finger in just the right spot when you’re about to fall off the edge.” The intensity in his expression had me arching toward him, asking him with my body for exactly

that. When he wound a piece of my hair around his finger, tugging lightly, it had me almost whimpering. Even before he stroked a finger down the side of my face. “I promise you, Duchess.” The nickname had heat pooling between my thighs. “Nothing in your nightstand can fuck you like I could.” Holy shit. “Now let’s get out of here before I prove it to you.” He shifted off me, pulling out of the tent. I lay there on my back for a second, catching my breath. When I caught up to him at the desk, he had his credit card out. A box with a sticker advertising the tent we’d just been in was sitting in front of the register. “I thought it was a deathtrap,” I offered, my voice almost normal. “It is. And she’ll love it.” We checked out and were on our way, stashing the tent in the car. “I’ll drop you off.” “I want to come with you. To give it to her.” He looked surprised. “All right.” “Can we make a quick stop first?”

Avery pulled up in front of his sister’s and knocked on the door. Barking echoed through the townhouse, which looked way too nice for students. The girl who opened the door was my height with dark hair. “Waldo!” Waldo? Wtf. “Hi, Ken.” He wrapped her in a hug that had my ovaries turning over. The warmth in his voice seemed reserved for his sister. She didn’t look anything like her brother. But that didn’t seem to get in the way of their relationship and the way he hugged the crap out of her. “I came to drop off your present.” Avery held the box with the tent over his shoulder. She grinned. “Who the hell is this?” Avery glanced at me with a rare hesitation. “Kenna, this is Charlotte. Charlotte’s my—” “Um, I know who Charlotte is. We’ve spoken on the phone. Plus, you talk about her all the time. Oh, was I not supposed to say that?” She shot her brother a fake innocent look. He glared but held the door for me. Two things occurred to me as I crossed the threshold. First, that I was going to like Kenna. Second, that seeing Avery like this was seeing a whole other side of him. “You guys want a drink? My roommate’s not

here. I have juice. And maybe soda. We were cleaning out the fridge since we’re gone for the weekend.” “Remind me who you’re going on this trip with?” Avery asked under his breath as we followed her down the narrow but modern hall, past too many shoes to belong to just one girl, and into the kitchen. “Tabs. Jen. Maddie.” She turned to me. “Tabs and Jen are my roommates. Tabs is loaded. Hence the place.” Kenna waved a casual hand toward the living room, complete with old but shiny wood floors, two couches, and a fireplace. “Thank God,” Avery commented. “Aww, you’re worried there’ll be guys? Brother, dearest. There’s something I need to tell you—” “Don’t say it.” Avery’s face paled. She grinned wickedly. “I’ve had sex! With a man!” “Don’t say ‘man.’” “You want me to say ‘boy’?” “I don’t want you to say anything.” The dynamic was fucking fascinating. I watched their banter until finally she gave up. Kenna moved to the box containing the tent, which Avery slung off his shoulder and deposited in front of her. “Wait. No wrapping. And where’s my card?”

she teased. “You don’t need a card. Cards are for people who cheaped out on a gift.” He looked to me for backup and I nodded. Kenna ripped into the tent with delight. “This is amazing! I’ve always wanted a tent. This is seriously the best gift you’ve ever given me.” “I might have had some help,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. That reminded me. “I got you some accessories to go with the tent.” I held out the gift bag I’d gotten at Walgreens, along with a few last-minute supplies. She opened the bag and tissue paper I’d stuffed into it in the car, pulling out one item after another. A camping mug. Streamers. Temporary tattoos. “Everything’s purple!” “What you need for a fun weekend away.” I’d noticed the color was in nearly all of her pictures when I’d pulled up her social media profile in the car. From her reaction, I could tell I’d guessed right that it was her favorite. Avery’s brows pulled together as he reached for a box under the streamers and tattoos. “Are those…?” “Purple condoms?” Kenna snatched them out of his hand, holding up the package. “Nice.” The look Avery shot me was designed to melt me into the floor.

“Kenna, did you get your brother a purple tie by any chance?” “Sure did. Why?” “No reason. Hey, what’s with the Waldo thing?” “No.” Avery’s authoritative voice rang through the room. Kenna grinned. “You don’t know that story?” “Hmm, I don’t think I do.” I couldn’t hide my delight as Avery rubbed a hand over his face. “You know Where’s Waldo? The kids’ books where you search for that guy with the glasses and the red hat in a sea of people?” “Yeah.” I vaguely remembered the dense, colorful illustrations. “Avery went as Waldo for Halloween.” “How old were you?” I asked. “Oh, no,” Kenna cut in. “Not one year. Every year. Like, until senior year, I think? Maybe to a law society mixer…” “That is not true.” “I think I have pictures. He was obsessed with Waldo. Had all the books. There are art prints in his townhouse—have you seen them?” Avery’s expression was bleak. “We put those up when you moved in.” “Don’t pretend they were for me.” “Now that you’ve completely emasculated me, why don’t you get that dog of yours?” “Sure. Thanks for taking Charlie for the

weekend,” Kenna offered. “I shut him in the other room.” A bark from far away captured my attention again. Kenna crossed the room and opened the closed door. The golden retriever that barreled out was shiny and happy, its dog mouth open in a grin. “I’ll go get his things.” She bustled out, leaving me alone with Avery, who bent down to stroke the dog’s ears. I struggled to catch up. “Wait, the dog is Charlie?” “Yes. I couldn’t bring myself to call you the same name, even if it was what you wanted.” A smile ghosted over his face. “Not everything I do is designed to piss you off, you know.” I studied the two of them together. Avery, bent nearly double to pat this squirmy creature, its tongue lolling out one side as it panted with happiness, was the last image I’d ever expected to witness. “How long has Kenna had him?” “He was our dog. I bought him when she moved in with me to make the transition easier. Dumb idea. Took us weeks to house train the thing.” But he scratched the dog’s ears with affection. “I sent him with her when she moved out. You know, to give her something to take responsibility for.” “Not to protect her when you couldn’t.”

“Of course not.” He straightened and the dog whined as its scratching post disappeared. Seeing Avery like this, his protectiveness. He smiled more and teased more. It was sexy as hell. “What?” he asked at my expression. “You’re different like this. With your sister. You’re fun. You’re funny. Why aren’t you like that with anyone else?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t like anyone else.” “That’s not true. You like me.” “I’d like to do very bad things to you,” he corrected, his eyes sparking as he leaned against the counter. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me when he swung the topic back to sex. I tried once more. “Maybe if we both want them, they’re not bad anymore.” Avery’s gaze searched mine. Finally he shifted off the counter and glanced toward the door. “Let me get Charlie’s things and I’ll drop you off. I’m sure you have plans tonight. Thousands of Bostonians needing shoe advice.” I blew out a breath. “Right,” I muttered as I watched him turn to go after his sister. He wasn’t being an asshole and we were on good terms. The chemistry between us was off the charts, and unless my radar was completely gone, we were destined for more steamy times ahead.

So why did it feel like I had less of a handle on him than ever?

17

IT’S ABOUT TRUST

T

hursday night after Avery dropped me off, I defrosted my freezer money. Friday the entire gala team was working out of Jefferson, doing a last-minute push on attendee numbers for next week. With Mallory looking over my shoulder, I’d designed a social media blitz that Redpath and our board agreed to share to encourage hold-outs to sign up. I barely saw Avery, who was in meetings to prepare for his TV appearance Monday, except for a look exchanged in the hallway. When I counted the bills Saturday, I decided I could afford the trip to New York. It wouldn’t leave me a lot extra, but this was worth it. I talked to Grams about it, and her eyes had lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

I spent the rest of the weekend working out the details. I loved having something to work on. I might not have done it for me, but I’d do it for her. I also found my thoughts drifting to Avery. We’d had the best conversation walking down the street like equals. Like we both wanted to be there. I loved how he listened. His questions. How he’d opened up for me even if he wasn’t willing to admit it. The way he’d looked at me in the tent, like he wanted me more than his next breath. And then…the reminder that it was just physical. The more I learned about him, the more I liked him. I got that he’d been forced to take control when his mom couldn’t. When she wasn’t trustworthy. Second-guessing himself was probably a liability when he had to take care of himself and his sister. After hearing nothing all weekend, I caved and texted him Sunday night. Charlie: Hey, you ready for your big TV debut? I made some notes on Mallory’s talking points and packed an emergency kit for us to take to the studio I hadn’t gotten a response by the time I arrived at Alliance Monday morning. Avery was at his desk

when I arrived, his suit smooth and perfect. “Hi. You ready? You look good. I was thinking we could call a car, so we don’t have to worry about parking at the other end, and…” His gaze met mine, and I knew something was wrong. Even before he said, “Shut the door.” I did. “Is there something you want to tell me?” “How many syllables? Rhymes with…” I lifted a shoulder. My teasing faded at his expression. I followed his gaze to the stack of papers on his desk. Not papers. Calendars. I swore softly. “Facilities left them when they moved your desk back outside. Thought they were mine.” “I can explain—” “Where did you get the photos?” “Your social,” I said under my breath. “My sister posted those pictures. You found them, copied them. Distributed them.” I winced. “Come on. You got July.” He stared back at me and my gut twisted. “Avery, it was a joke. It happened awhile ago.” “Then why do you still have a full box of these by your desk?” I blew out a breath. “Fair point. But don’t overreact—“ “Overreact.” He snapped the word. “How

would you react if you’d been put in a calendar half naked without your knowledge.” “It’s not the same. It’s only funny because of the divide.” At his blank stare, I went on. “You know, because you’re guys. And you have power. And we thought…” “Who’s we.” My stomach twisted. “Charlotte, you’re going to tell me who else was involved.” “It was just me.” He studied me for a long moment. “I shared things in confidence. Hell, I introduced you to my sister. And this is how you treat personal information. You display it to the world for your own benefit.” I was starting to get where he was coming from. This was worse than the time he’d fired me. The way he was looking at me. Like I’d hurt him personally. Violated his trust. It felt like all the ground I’d gained had vanished in an instant. “I’m sorry,” I managed. “I don’t care.” Avery shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at me like he wished I’d melt into the floor. “Look, let’s talk about this after your TV interview. I made some notes,” I held up my phone, “And we can go over them on the way over.” “You’re not going. You’re going to stay here and destroy every copy of that.” He glanced toward

the calendar. “But I can help you.” “I don’t want your help. You will continue to work with Mallory on the gala. I don’t want you scheduling my meetings. Talking to my clients. I don’t even want you getting my lunch. From today until you leave, you are going to make yourself invisible.” Avery shrugged into his jacket. Fastened the button lightly with one hand before his hard gaze came back to mine. “This is about last week,” I realized. “It’s not about the calendars. It’s because of the things we talked about. The fact that you want an excuse not to let people in.” “This is about trust.” His voice had an edge beneath the surface. “You abused mine and this time I won’t forget it.” He walked out, pulling the door after him.

18

I WANTED YOU TO KNOW

“H

ey, Charlie.” Rose stuck her head into the photocopier room. “Got any of those calendars left?” I straightened, turning toward the door. “I’m getting out of the rogue printing business.” “Too bad. Hey, would you mind helping me with some expense claims? I’ve been trying to fill out that form twenty-five for international trips, and I keep getting bounce backs.” “Oh, that’s easy. If you check a box on the previous page, you don’t get an error. I’ll show you.” A relieved smile stretched across her face. “Thanks, Charlie.” She hesitated. “It was nice of your boss to send us for lunch.” “Yeah. Nice.”

Avery’d left his card number with me last week and hadn’t said anything about canceling the lunch since our fall out this morning. But I hadn’t been able to eat a bite of the lobster I ordered. Looking around my friends’ smiling faces, I reminded myself we weren’t meaning to do any harm. Just having some fun. So why did I feel so damned guilty about it? “He said hi in the hallway to me last week.” Rose’s words brought me back. “He even asked my name, because I think he forgot it.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yeah? Well, he’s going to need a new assistant.” Her eyes went round. “What? Seriously?” “I’m leaving. In a couple of weeks, actually. Looking for new opportunities. HR isn’t making a big deal of it, but I’m sure they’d consider you.” “Wow. I can’t imagine this place without you, but I’ll definitely apply. Thanks, Charlie.” “Listen, I have to do something, but I’ll come by in a few, OK?” After she left, I moved away from the table and pulled out the box of calendars I’d brought from my desk. Staring out at me was Avery Banks. I pulled the top calendar off the stack and fed it through the paper shredder. Then the next. I thought it would be more satisfying to feed his face through the shredder. It wasn’t.

The last calendar in hand, I flipped it open. The other guys who’d been chosen from the esteemed panel of me, Emma, and Kristal had always appealed to me. Now, though, I couldn’t get any more excited than “meh” about a single one of them. Even Blake from derivatives, who everyone said had the best six-pack in the building. He wasn’t Avery. He didn’t have my boss’s icy blue eyes that would warm when you worked for it. Staring at the picture of Avery, I didn’t have the heart to shred it. I ripped out July, folded it, and stuck it in my pocket before shredding the rest.

“Hey. Charlie.” “Yeah.” I lifted my gaze to see Payton peering over the top of my cubicle. “Mallory said all the associates have jobs for the gala. Do you know mine?” “Sure.” I pulled up the document, scrolled through. “You’re working in the back.” “Of course I am.” She groaned, rounding the partition and dropping into the spare chair across from me in my work area. “I’m pregnant and now I’m never going to get noticed in this company. What are the other associates doing?” I read down the list. All the men had more visible jobs. Greeting clients. Helping the CEO. “This sucks. Maybe you could talk to Avery

about getting me something more visible?” I glanced toward the closed door across the hall. “It’d go over better if you did it.” For the past couple of days he’d stayed true to his word. He’d stopped sending me requests unless they were absolutely necessary. He barely acknowledged me in the hall. Mallory kept me busy enough that I was only at my desk half the time anyway, but still. I’d expected it to be uncomfortable. I didn’t expect it to hurt. “What happened?” she prompted. “I thought you guys were…” she glanced around, lowering her voice. “Getting along.” I tapped my fingernails on the top of my desk. “We were. Until he got a little reminder Monday. Of my jokes.” She winced. “Do I want to know?” “Better not.” “Well, for what it’s worth I don’t think you can outlast him. He’s stubborn as hell. If you want him to forgive you, you might have to work for it.” She rose from her chair, shooting me a look before heading back to her office. I studied the closed door for what felt like an hour after Payton left. Eventually I got up and crossed to it. I had to knock twice before the harsh answer came back.

“What is it.” I opened the door slowly, meeting Avery’s hard gaze. So much for hoping he’s over it. Forty-eight hours hadn’t seemed to have cooled him off. Still, I stepped inside and crossed to the chair facing his desk. “I wanted to ask about Payton’s role for the gala,” I said, shifting into the seat. “What about it.” I folded my hands in front of me, mostly to keep letting on that I was self-conscious. “She’s upset because she’s not going to have a chance to get ahead. I mean, assuming this place doesn’t burn to the ground.” Avery shot me a look. “I don’t understand. Payton’s capable. Professional.” I tried not to wince at the dig. “She works hard, she’ll get ahead.” “Not if no one else knows she’s good. She needs to be visible. Which is never going to happen, even though she works her ass off.” I blew out a breath. “Avery,” a muscle in his jaw ticked at my use of his name, “Please don’t let the fact that you’re mad at me hurt her.” He tugged on his shirt cuffs. “I’m not mad. I told you. I don’t like being taken advantage of.” I studied him. “I get that. More than you realize. Do you know how many times men have made jokes about me? Hit on me?”

At least now I had his attention. “Dozens. The problem, Avery, is they work here. They’re your bosses. Your blood.” He shifted in his chair. “And it’s not just me. Bobby needs Emma to help him every single quarter with finances, but he makes more than her. A lot more. And the reality is, Jamie got Payton the promotion to associate, but he’s on leave and not coming back, which means Payton will have her baby, and all the senior management will forget she exists. If they even know her now.” He hesitated before speaking. When he did, his voice was conflicted. “What are you asking me for.” “Nothing. But I wanted you to know.” I shifted out of my chair, starting toward the door. “Charlotte.” I turned back, hope rising up in my chest. “I have a lunch in New York Friday.” “Before the gala?” My eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Do you need help?” Usually he was hopeless with travel arrangements. “It’s under control. Just look after the gala and make sure everything’s ready.” “OK.” I cleared my throat. “Is there anything else?” I thought he was going to say something. That things would be OK. That he didn’t hate

me, didn’t think I’d betrayed him. “No.” Swallowing the disappointment that rose up like a wave, I left.

19

MISSING OUT

“A

re you ready for this?” “Yeah, no sweat.” I glanced at the cardboard box of nametags in

my lap. “You sure? You look like you really care how this goes.” Payton looked over from the driver’s seat, amused. The last few days I’d almost fooled myself into thinking I was an event planner. I knew about the different kinds of lights and speakers and the capacity constraints of different rooms. I knew how to proofread the signs and what margins and bleeds were for printing. I’d put out fires and called clients and worked until I fell asleep on my desk. Let’s be clear—it wasn’t noble. It was because I needed something to care about while I clocked

two weeks working for a man who pretended I didn’t exist. “Just another event, right?” I flashed a smile I hoped looked real. “When’s Max coming?” Her sleek dark hair glinted in what was left of the setting sun as she turned back to the road. “When the doors open in an hour.” We pulled into the parking lot and shifted out of the car. Payton took a box from me, bracing it against her dress the color of a midnight sky. There wasn’t much left to do, as I’d already spent almost the entire day on site. But there seemed to be a buzz surrounding the building. Or maybe that was just my stomach turning over. “Damn, Charlie. This is incredible,” Payton called out as we stepped inside the building. “Did you do all this?” “I didn’t put the chandeliers in or anything. But I helped with the signs. The slogan.” The venue was an old hotel as classic as it was beautiful. Gold everywhere, and forest green carpets. We’d made sure all of the touches we added fit with the original decor. Signs proclaimed “Alliance Financial: What matters, today and tomorrow.” The photos we’d ended up displaying weren’t of men in suits—Avery or anyone else— but of children playing. Families. The reasons people invested with us to begin with.

“You should be proud. Where’s Avery?” I ignored the ripple of unease. “He had meetings in New York this morning. Said he’d meet us here.” Her brows drew together. “And you didn’t want him here earlier?” “Yes. You think he’d listen to me?” The past couple of days we’d fallen into an uneasy truce. When we were in the same meetings for the gala, he was cordial. But not once did he look at me too long. Or find ways to touch me. Even when our hands would brush as we exchanged a piece of paper or held a door, he’d ignored it. It was bullshit. Because I knew I’d fucked up, and I wanted to shout it down the hall. Hell, I’d do anything to get back to what we’d had just a week ago. I’d spent my nights planning the trip for my Grams, plus logging some serious hours on BBB. I’d gotten my following up another few thousand people. None of whom were people I knew. People I had a relationship with. It was lonely as fuck. But getting out of here had always been my Aplan, and now it was close. Avery would stalk through the door, deliver a maddeningly charming speech, introduce Mia, and get all the credit for a

well-spent evening that was the corporate equivalent of Alliance saying “Hollister who?” Coupled with the program he’d made, Redpath would have to see him as worthy. It was simple. Done. I just wished I felt good about it instead of hollow. It was too hot for jackets, but Payton’d worn a cape and I had a sweater. I took both and tucked them in coat check. “If Avery’s late, he’s missing out,” Payton commented when I returned. I’d worn the dress I’d told Avery about. Black, fitted, stopping halfway to my knees. The conservative neckline made up for the rest, and I’d thrown on red heels and dangly earrings. At the last minute I’d decided to pin my hair up. It wasn’t me, not really, but it made my neck look a mile long. Mallory ambushed me, pointing out some kind of trivial emergency about a cord that wasn’t taped down correctly. But other than that, the place did look great. I lost myself in the final details, working with the team to make sure everything was just right. I checked my phone. Avery was supposed to arrive any minute. If that made me nervous, it was only because he had to nail his speech. It had nothing to do with seeing him in a tux. “Hey, Charlie.”

“Mia.” She grabbed me in a surprise hug. I hadn’t pictured the girl as a hugger when I’d seen her perform, or during our few phone conversations to prepare, but I went with it. “Come on, let me show you how everything’s going to work.” I pulled her backstage to explain the setup. By the time I returned and glanced at my phone, twenty minutes had flown by. I peered around the hall. Guests were starting to stream in in a mix of tuxes and dresses, but there was no sign of the shoulders I’d know blind. No missed calls. No new emails. No texts. I hit refresh with reckless abandon as I strode through the ballroom. I crossed to Max and Payton. “Either of you seen Avery?” “Nope.” “Wait…” I trailed off as an email came through. My stomach sank as I read it. “What?” Payton prompted. “Avery’s not going to make it.” A million curses streamed through my brain that couldn’t be uttered under the soft lighting of the chandeliers, the tinkling of glasses and low laughter of clients and Alliancers alike. This wasn’t happening. I had two jobs. One was to get the comedian on. The other was to prepare my boss to give his speech. I’d done my damn job. All he had to do was show up.

What the hell was he doing taking meetings in New York the morning of the gala? Why had I let him? The thoughts blurred together as I fought a rising tide of ickiness. But the reality was that Avery wasn’t here, and we had to put someone on. I looked around. There was no one to point to. No one to blame. No one to go on. I sucked in a breath and turned to my friend. “Payton, I need you do something. I’m going to forward you this speech, with a couple of changes.” I scanned through the short speaking notes, making edits as I talked. “Just read it from your phone.” “Me?” “Yes. We need someone and you’ll do a great job.” After a few scrambled minutes, I tugged Payton after me and backstage. Mallory did a double take, but before she could comment, the CEO descended on both of us. “Where’s Mr. Banks?” I steeled myself. “Mr. Redpath, Avery had a travel delay. He missed his flight back to Boston.” His brows leapt together. “He’s not in Boston? Where the hell is he?” “Manhattan.” I’d figured he’d be mad. I didn’t expect the level of rage that had him shaking. There are few things I dislike more than eating

shit. Especially when it’s not deserved. But I made a decision, squaring my shoulders. “He’s on his way back, but it was my fault, Sir. I scheduled his travel too close to the gala.” He honed in on my face, shooting me a glare that would’ve had most people melting. “Of all the irresponsible, incompetent…you knew exactly how important this was. To the entire company. Tonight was about rebuilding. Instead, you’ve threatened all of our work, this organization’s reputation.” I flinched. “Yes, Mr. Redpath.” I glanced over his shoulder to see Mallory looking on in horror. “But we have a solution. Payton’s an associate, same as Avery. She’s prepared. I promise.” “Payton? Who the hell is Payton.” I thought he was going to explode again and mentally willed my friend to be tough. “Payton’s right there. And she’s brilliant. She actually has the highest client satisfaction ratings of all of your associates. You’ll be impressed, I promise.” I crossed to Payton, who was getting a pep talk from Max. “You’ve got this, honey. You were born for this.” I pushed her on stage at the right moment, and the crowd applauded. For a moment it looked like she might freeze. But she didn’t. She was charming, funny, and self-deprecating. Her warm voice put everyone at ease, even if they hadn’t each had a

drink already. “She’s incredible,” Max murmured. She is.” I glanced toward him. The man was wearing a button down shirt and slacks, which was as dressed up as I’d ever seen him. His usual uniform of jeans wasn’t going to fly tonight, no matter how successful he was. He’d obviously stepped up for Payton, which I appreciated. But the tell-tale eyebrow piercing was a hit of pure Max Donovan. “I know it’s not my business, but whatever your issues are with being a father? I hope you figure them out. Because I would bet a million bucks that girl is the best thing to ever happen to you.” I watched from stage as Payton finished, then gave her a hug as she stepped off. “You killed it,” I told her. “You’re just being nice.” “I’m never nice.” I glanced back to see Mia, looking cool and dressy at once in black leggings and a shimmery silver top. Her hair was swept over one shoulder and pinned there. I watched her take the stage to polite, curious applause. Her opening joke was one I’d heard before. My lips curved at the corner in anticipation. As she delivered it to…silence. My heart picked up. The next one too. Like a pro, she kept going despite the crowd’s

lack of reception. I peeked through the curtains to see Redpath in the crowd. He didn’t look happy. Shit. Do something. I dashed out to the foyer, glancing around. A familiar face in conversation gave me hope. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” I grabbed the man’s arm. “Mr. Siskinds, could I borrow you?” “Hello, Charlie.” “I need a favor.” I pulled him into the main hall, where people were still standing like statues. He stopped at center of the room. “What are we doing here?” he asked, leaning in. “I wanted to ask you about your wife’s dog.” His cheeks went pink. “Oh. That little fluffer. You wouldn’t believe what she did…” I glanced between Siskinds and the stage as Mia’s next joke was delivered. She hit the punch line… Then so did he. Siskinds burst out laughing, his hearty chuckle starting somewhere deep in his belly and projecting out to the room. Others started in too. From there it built, until by the next joke everyone was laughing. I retreated to the back of the room. As the panic from earlier receded, other emotions flooded in to fill its place. Pride in Payton. Relief that Mia was getting on with the crowd.

Then loneliness. Abandonment. I grabbed a drink off the tray of a passing waiter. Took a sip, my hand shaking a little. Another, longer. “Rough day?” a voice murmured. Recognition set in, and every muscle in my body tensed. I turned to face him. Avery’s black tux was tailored to fit every inch of his hard body. He looked like he’d stepped off a billboard. I wanted to stab him. Settled for taking another drink. “When did you get here?” “Just now. I heard Payton went on for me. Smart move.” The compliment bounced off me. “I did what I had to do when you didn’t show.” Contrition flashed across his face. “I didn’t mean to put you that position. I was late getting out of my meeting and apparently it takes longer to get to La Guardia than I thought.” He glanced past me. “How pissed was Redpath?” “I thought his head was going to blow off.” Avery rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I better go deal with that. Maybe they’ll consider Payton for director when I’m out of contention.” “Why would you be out of contention? Redpath’s not pissed at you.” His gaze sharpened as he stepped closer. “What do you mean.”

“Because I told him it was my fault you weren’t back in time. I fucked up your travel arrangements.” Avery’s breath caught. “Why?” “I have your back. I know you don’t want to believe that, but…” I shrugged, uncomfortable with the helpless feeling. “It’s true.” The room was full of elegantly dressed people, but all I saw was him. His handsome face in the warm, low light. The way his jaw worked as he studied me. But what had hope blooming in my heart was the expression on his face. Like maybe he was glad to see me for the first time in a week. “So eating shit’s off your to-do list for this evening.” I tried to lighten the tension between us. “What are you going to do with your newly found time?” Avery glanced toward the main doors, then back at me. “Come with me.”

20

IT’S NOT SO BAD

I

followed him out to the main foyer, glancing back to see if anyone was watching. When we were there, we crossed the hall to the solarium. He pushed the glass doors open, revealing an empty, circular room lined with beds of tropicallooking plants. A round central bed of trees towered over us, blocking the other side. The background noise of Mia’s voice, punctuated by the occasional laughter of the crowd, faded away as the doors closed after us. The room was silent except for the hum of the irrigation system. It was also dark except for the little fairy lights nestled in the trees and plants. “I shouldn’t have gone to New York today,” he confessed, his low voice echoing in the stillness. “I

couldn’t stand being around you. Knowing what you’d done, it fucking ate at me.” I reached out to touch the leaf on a tree next to me, rubbing my fingers over the soft texture. “I get it, and I’m sorry. I know you’re private and you don’t share your personal life. I would never betray that.” I lifted my gaze to his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it this week. And I think if I overdid it with the pranks, it wasn’t to make fun of you. Maybe some messed up part of me wanted your attention.” He stepped closer, his tux brushing the front of my dress. My eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, sought out the planes of his face. “You’ve always had it.” I should’ve gone. Should’ve turned on my Manolos and run as far as I could. Instead, I grabbed the front of his suit and pulled myself up to meet his lips. They were firm under mine and opened in surprise. It was meant to be a quick kiss. A reassurance that the moments of heat, attraction, openness we’d found weren’t entirely lost. Still, I dissolved into the feel of his lips. Avery broke the kiss first. “I’ve told myself a hundred times this is a bad idea. But maybe if we both want it…” He lifted a hand, brushed a knuckle over my cheek. “It’s not so bad.”

My fingers reached up to wrap around his wrist. He stilled, and even in the dark I could feel his stare. Feel my body tingle. Then he dragged my mouth up to his. And everything melted away. Because Avery Banks was kissing me. It was hard and hot and everything. Even before his hand fisted in my hair, forcing me closer. I couldn’t remember a kiss being so satisfying and so desperate at once. Avery hitched my knee around his hip. Oh, yeah. More. We weren’t in the office this time, and the control had snapped. He was wild. His mouth teased mine before demanding I open under him. I made him work for it, resisted the press of his tongue until I parted my lips. He groaned, his openmouthed kiss taking me over. I wanted all of it. Wanted his decisiveness, his arrogance, the deep-down decency he denied to the world. We staggered back, and my body hit something hard—a tree trunk?—knocking the wind out of me. It didn’t matter. It was like we were drowning, the only source of oxygen the other. I arched under him like I wanted to fit myself to his mouth, his hands, the growing hardness I could feel through his pants. My hands found his chest, stretched up around his neck, and my stomach tightened. Lower.

His fingers threaded in my hair. When he tried to free them again, they tangled in the bound strands, and he growled as he tugged. My scalp prickled as the pins came loose, sprinkling on the ground. It wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t care. My fingernails dug into his biceps through the jacket. A breathy noise escaped when he shifted, pulling back only long enough to change the angle and kiss me harder. Part of me said to slow down. But we were a train, barreling toward a destination I’d pictured so many times lately that I could’ve cried from the relief of knowing that this time was real. The bark scraped my back as Avery pressed me into the tree. I didn’t care. We were in a secret place where one thing mattered. There was only his groan when I tugged his shirt out of his belt, reached up under his shirt, and raked my nails down his back. The strength of his hands when he grabbed my hips and ground against me, my thin satin panties. He growled as he ripped the panties down. Then his hand smoothed down the back of my thigh, hitched my knee around his waist. His fingers brushed between my thighs and the world went dark. His touch electrified me, making my head fall back. He pressed against my mouth with one hand

while the fingers of his other slipped inside me. I moaned, my lips wrapping around his thumb. Fuck, he was hot. I’d known he would be. I needed his cock. Even as he pulled his thumb from my mouth, replacing it with his mouth and hitching my knee higher as he started rubbing circles over my clit, it wasn’t enough. I managed to get his zipper undone, and when I wrapped my hand around his hot length, I wanted to cry out in triumph. I heard the foil of a condom rip. Then his touch was gone, but only for a moment. It came back to my hip. Then he used the tree to lift me up. I knew what was happening before it happened. Still, the feel of him pressing inside me was incredible. Our mouths fused again like we couldn’t get enough. Like we had to kiss until we unleashed everything we’d felt for months. Years. Avery’s low groan as he pressed inside matched mine. Holy shit, he’s in me. My boss, the man I’d spent every second torturing, resenting. The man I couldn’t seem to get out of my head. He was part of me. Filling me. Stroking so deep it felt like he’d never end. My nose bumped his as I breathed. His fingers dug into my ass as he pinned me against the tree. His forehead rested on mine. My back was

sweating, sticking to the bark. None of it mattered because I was strung tight enough to snap. Shaking fingers found his neck, pulling him close to my mouth. His hands tightened on my ass, pinned me against the tree so he could speed up his strokes. The angle changed until he was hitting me even deeper, the force of his thrusts banging me against the tree. Then he shifted. I didn’t know why until I felt his fingers rub my clit. My vision went blurry. Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, but I wanted it. Every damned second. I gasped. Yes. Fucking yes. The wave started at my core, like a high. A drug. Each muscle in my body contracted, from where he was buried so deep I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began, through my arms, my legs. My aching breasts and nipples. My clenched toes. I fell off the edge, my body shaking. Avery’s hot mouth dragged over my jaw to my neck. He groaned against my skin. The hottest sound I’d ever heard. One stroke. Two. Then he exploded inside me.

21

I’M IN CHARGE NOW

I

might’ve had my share of lumberjack fantasies. However, there are a few impracticalities of forest sex in real life. Sticks in your back. Leaves up your ass. Was it worth it to come back to consciousness with your head on an extremely sexy chest and the throbbing between your legs reminding you of the cock that had just rocked your world? Yeah. “That was humiliating.” Avery’s murmur had me shifting onto my hip to peer down at him. “Because we did it in the solarium at a hotel?” He let out a groan. “Because I came faster than a teenage boy getting his first hand job under the bleachers.” I chuckled, stretching. “You want a rematch?”

“Oh, I’m getting one.” “I’ll have my people call your people.” I started to straighten, but he caught my arm. I stared down at him, his tux open, the bowtie missing. Streaks of dirt clung to the black fabric, and it was satisfying knowing I was the reason for them. “You are my people.” The soft words coaxed a lazy smile out of me. Avery’s phone rang and he cursed, grasping for it on the dirt floor. “Mr. Redpath. Yes, I’ve just arrived. I apologize for the delay.” Avery listened, nodding. Then clicked off. “Time to grovel,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to do much,” I reminded him. “I’m already under the bus on this. Don’t join me.” He pressed a kiss to my mouth that warmed me again. “Thank you for that.” Then rose and offered a hand. “How do I look?” I asked as I stood, brushing myself off. “Like I fucked you in a solarium.” The satisfaction in his voice was sexy all over again. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to work for us going back in there.” He glanced down at his tux. “I have an idea,” I offered. After I spent a few minutes feeling the ground for enough hair pins to put my hair back up in some semblance of its earlier style, we raided the coat

closet. Avery switched out his jacket for another. “We’ll put it back,” I promised. I bumped into Mallory while Avery went to redeem himself. “Charlie? There you are. It took a while to warm them up, but I’ll admit Mia was a good idea. That finale…” “Oh. Yeah, totally.” I nodded like I knew what she meant. “I didn’t think you’d pull it off, but you did.” Her voice held a note of apology. My smile was genuine. “I’m glad too.” One of Avery’s clients recognized me and said hello. I found myself drawn into a few conversations. After twenty minutes, I wove through the crowd, searching for Avery. Instead I found Payton. “Hey, miss superstar.” “Hey! You won’t believe it, but Redpath actually came up to me and said I did a good job. He wants to meet next week to talk about my future.” “That’s great. Hey, have you seen Avery?” “He showed up?” “Yeah. I’m not sure where he…” I trailed off. Maybe he’d forgotten our pact in all the excitement of the gala. Finally, I locked gazes with him. He was talking to a client, but he excused himself and strode

toward us with determined strides. “Payton,” he offered briskly when he arrived. “Nice work.” “Thanks for being late.” He shrugged. “Shit happens. Let’s go,” he said, turning to me. I glanced at Payton, who tried to hide a smile. “Where are you two going?” she asked, all innocent. “To work,” Avery bit out. “Work,” she echoed. “It’s after ten.” I put my hands on my hips. “We’re not in the office anymore,” I reminded him saucily. “Don’t you want to know what I want?” Irritation flickering over his face, Avery bent toward me. It could’ve been mistaken for professional—just trying to be heard over the music —when he brushed my hair back to whisper against the shell of my ear. “Tonight, when my mouth is between your thighs, I look forward to hearing exactly what you want.” And with that low declaration, he turned and strode toward the doors, stopping to say hello to Siskinds and a few others on the way. It took a moment for me to notice Payton had wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Be careful,” she murmured, giving me a squeeze. I turned toward her, surprised. “I’m like a Girl

Scout. Always prepared.” “I meant with your heart.” “It’s sex, Payton.” Her knowing look had me looking away. I repeated it to myself as I smoothed my dress and crossed to the front of the building. As he pulled up in front of the hotel. As I slid inside his Jeep, my eyes meeting his. I’d always thought it was a strangely rugged car for my boss to drive, but I couldn’t think about that now. The only thing running through my mind was: Just. Sex. The ride was silent and charged. When we pulled up to his place, we shifted out like we were on a mission. And maybe we were. I followed him through the dark house, kicking off my shoes at the door while he flicked on a light on the table. “Nice place.” I stripped the dress over my head, standing in my underwear. “Thanks.” He turned back, taking off his jacket for the second time tonight before stepping into me. Something over his shoulder caught my eye and I put a hand on his chest. “Wait. Are those your Waldo pictures?” “No.” “No they’re not?” I shifted onto my toes to see better.

Avery groaned. “Fucking hell, this is not happening.” I ducked under his arm. “Wow, that one’s signed.” He came up behind me. “Cockblocked by a cartoon. Unbelievable.” “You still have that outfit from Halloween?” I prompted, a grin pulling at my mouth. “If I say yes, can we fuck?” His voice was almost as hot as the way his fingers found the clasp of my bra, popping it loose with confident hands. Then Avery’s strong arms reached around me, one sliding under my bra and the other into my panties. I melted back against him, my eyes falling shut. Waldo was forgotten. I was on overload trying to take in the hard lines of his body, his scent, his everything. But before I lost myself, I grabbed his hands and turned to face him. He groaned his agreement, dropping his mouth to mine. Lust roared through me, fueling an even greater need. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he murmured. When he lifted my breast in his hands, rolling his fingers over my nipples, I moaned. His fingers slid between my legs, over my wet clit, and lower to my slit. “This, right here, is mine.” “That’s a bold claim,” I protested.

He stared down at me, the arrogance giving way to a steady look that had my heart tripping. “Then allow me to back it up.” In a second I was pressed against the wall and his mouth was on my skin. My boss on his knees between my thighs was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. But it was more than that. It was the fact that I’d wanted this for so long, even though I’d fought with the idea of it. His name was a whispered curse on my lips with each flick of his tongue. The intensity of the way he worked me stole my breath. The way he held me, one arm banding around my thigh while the other held me open for him. As if he’d imagined this a million times, like he’d practiced in his mind until he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Committed it to memory. “Say my name again,” he grunted. I squirmed, but he held tighter until I complied. “That’s my girl.” I couldn’t process those words when he lifted my leg onto his shoulder. Then the other. I grabbed his hair for balance as he lifted my hips higher, his tongue flicking harder against my skin. Electricity sparked along my nerves, deep inside. Equal parts from the sensation and from the way Avery committed himself to every touch. Every stroke. “Holy shit…”

I gave up fighting him and rode the feeling. He built me up, and my body squeezed him like I didn’t want to let him go. I was empty and aching. “More.” His fingers found me from below, pressing inside my heat. All my muscles contracted, like I could pull him deeper. I’d had sex. It’d never felt like this. This madness, the storm of need brewing in my gut. The tug, like a chain that linked up from my mouth, my breasts, my stomach, between my thighs. Each lick of his tongue jerked on that chain, forced me to arch against him. Not even with Derek, whom I’d loved in whatever way it is eighteen-year-olds love. With Avery it wasn’t sweetness. It was raw, like crossing two live wires with the coating stripped off. His tongue was a weapon, and he was using it to make me explode. And I did explode. All of the need, the tension, bottled up inside me until every muscle clenched at once. He felt it as I came all over his mouth, my fingers digging into his head. He licked it all up before setting me down. I melted to my knees. My muscles were jelly, and his arm went around me, steadying me. Our eyes level, I looked into his fierce expression until he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth.

His fingers brushed between my thighs and I jerked from the stimulation. I reached for his forearm, intending to push it away. To tell him it was too soon. He wouldn’t move. “I told you once I had a taste it wouldn’t be enough.” The feel of the slow circle of his thumb on my slick skin faded from intolerable to just plain overwhelming. I swallowed the whine that rose up in my throat and settled for digging my fingers into his arms. “So you’re going to take what I give you, until you come all over me again.” “Don’t take it personally, but…I don’t think I can stand.” He grinned, and his white teeth flashing in the dark made me smile in return. “I will absolutely take that personally. Come on.” He laced his fingers through mine, and the simple move had my heart thudding. I followed him back to the bedroom. He didn’t hit the light. From what I could tell it was dark, with a king-sized bed dominating the space. I flopped down on the center of it. He hovered over me, hands on his hips, looking sexy as hell. “Charlotte?” He was a dark outline in the room, a shape that was dangerous and familiar at once. “Are you taking a nap?” “Need. Five. Minutes.” “You’re going to fall asleep on me, aren’t you.”

“What, you want to cuddle?” I teased, breathless. The familiar exasperation had my heart lifting as I peered up at him. “There is a long and filthy list of things I’d like to do to you. Cuddling isn’t on it.” I shifted up onto my knees and started to strip off his clothes. The tie. The shirt. The belt. The pants. Finally, his shorts. My breath caught. Avery was fucking gorgeous, every part of him. Even in the darkness I could make out the planes of his body and I traced them with greedy fingers. “You’re right,” I murmured finally. “This might take awhile.” He let out a groan as I pressed my mouth to his chest. Lower, to his abs. I loved the way they flexed under my lips, my tongue. I pulled back, taking in what I really wanted. His thick cock bobbed between us. Big and hard and damn if I didn’t feel lucky to have it to myself all night. “I’m glad to see it didn’t hurt that I shrunk your shorts for a year.” His fingers lifted my chin. “Wait, what?” I flashed a smile in the dark. “You sent them for

dry cleaning. I used to replace them a size smaller.” “Charlotte…” the threat in his voice didn’t bother me. “Avery…” I moved his fingers and shifted down his body. “This, right here? This is a weapon,” I purred. “Now you’re just flattering me.” But he didn’t sound like he minded. My fingers brushed the head of his cock, and he twitched. “I know what you want. You want me to take you in my mouth.” I wrapped my hand around it. “To lick all the way down here.” I shifted to trail my tongue down the line under his cock. His hand dropped to my hair, tugging lightly at the strands. Suddenly I wasn’t tired anymore. I pulled his cock into my mouth, sucking on the head. “Fuck,” he groaned. “I like you like this. At my mercy.” My nails scraped lightly down his stomach, and I loved the way he grunted. Like he couldn’t take it. I took him down the back of my throat, just to feel him flex. Then bobbed off him. His fingers fisted in my hair, shoving me back down onto his cock. I took him in, working him with my hands and my lips and my tongue. A light scrape of teeth had his hand tightening in my hair. “Careful, Duchess,” he bit out. I would’ve grinned if I could’ve managed it.

I pulled off for a second, wiping my hand over my mouth as he followed me with his hungry gaze. “I’m in charge now, boss. Get used to it.” Faster than I thought possible, he had my leg and swung me around so I was over top of him. His mouth was on my pussy, and I shook from the sensation. I took his cock in and we were competing. Him trying to make me come first, me trying to make him. I had a natural advantage, because I’d already come twice. Or so I thought. Somehow my muscles clenched around his fingers, my flesh shivered under his tongue. I sucked harder, my grip on the base of his cock tightening. He groaned against me and I reached for his balls, tugging. “Fucking hell,” he mumbled. I knew that was the sound of victory. I picked up my pace, pulling on his balls and taking him all the way down my throat. Then I pressed a finger farther back, and he exploded in my mouth. I greedily swallowed every drop of him. He devoured me until I fell over the edge one more time. We collapsed next to each other, exhausted. His fingers rubbed my foot lightly. “Fuck. How did I know you’d be an ass woman.” I laughed. “You referring to my secret moves?”

“They’re not so secret if I predicted them.” “I’ll have to do better next time.” “I think I need a cigarette.” My head lifted from the foot of the bed. “You don’t smoke.” “Law school I did. Almost quit. Bad habit.” He paused. “I didn’t know you had any weaknesses,” I teased lightly. “You should. You’re one of them.” It could’ve been the words or the hint of regret in his voice that had my breath sticking in my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. It felt like a sleepover, not like we’d just fucked each other’s brains out. “Does it bother you less now that we’ve actually done it?” “Yes.” He blew out a breath. “And no.” I dragged a bare foot along the soft bedspread, thinking. “Because you’re my boss and everyone at Alliance would freak.” “Because I spent two years telling myself there was no way in hell this was going to happen.” It’s just sex. Even if I swore there was a hint of longing in his voice, it couldn’t be more than sex. I wanted to get out of Alliance, survive long enough to get back on my feet. Give myself a new chance at figuring out who I was, who I wanted to be. He wasn’t the kind of man to be into a

relationship. “The thing about rules,” I ventured, “is they have to be worth following. If they’re not, eventually people will start to break them. Like you with Kenna. Or me with…everything.” “So if we’re going to do this,” Avery said, his voice warm in the dark beside me, “maybe we need our own rules. Ones worth following.” I rolled onto my stomach, looking down at him. His damned handsome face stole my breath all over again. “Like what.” “Rule number one: at the office, this doesn’t happen. At the office, you’re my assistant and I’m your boss.” He reached up to play with a strand of my hair as he considered. “And this doesn’t spill over into weekends. I’m not building you racks for your shoes or shit like that.” My lips curved. “Deal. That’s two rules.” “We need a third. Good things come in threes.” His white teeth flashed in the dark, and I wondered if he was referring to the three orgasms he’d given me tonight. An idea bloomed in my mind. One that I knew was right even as I hated it. “OK. Rule number three.” I solemnly held up three fingers. “When it’s over, it’s over.” He shifted onto his elbows, bringing our faces close again. “Meaning?” I dropped onto my back again, needing even the

extra few inches that gave me. “Meaning when I leave Alliance, this is over. No more anything.” Avery looked past me toward the window, the light spilling in through the parted curtains. “Done.” I should’ve felt relief. It was easy. Foolproof. I told myself that as he shifted over me, the evidence of his arousal growing again between us. As he pressed inside me, eyes shining with heat and intensity. As we came, his teeth in my neck and my nails in his back. And as he drove me home, walking me to the front door to say goodnight. The problem? Nothing that felt that good was ever easy.

22

PHYSICAL LOVE

I

was in a coma. That was the only explanation for why I reached for the phone without checking who it was the next morning. “Charlotte. It’s Jimmy.” “Jimmy?” “Your brother.” I winced, glancing at the alarm clock. “It’s so early.” “I’m your brother, even at seven thirty in the morning.” “I’m not sure that’s true…” “Did you get the invitation? Can you make it?” No. No. My brain was moving even slower than my body. Jimmy spoke again before I could. “You

haven’t been home for a while. You could bring Grams with you. Rent a car.” I stared at the silent alarm clock on my side table. Glanced at the hot pink wall lined with racks of shoes. The pile of clothes on every surface. Nothing gave me an answer. “I’ll think about it, OK?” “Elise really wants to meet you. She’s never had a sister.” “I’m not a great sister to have.” “You are too. Remember when you gave me that alibi after I streaked at the football game?” “Yeah, well. I owed you for covering for me when I skipped class to make out with Elton whatzisname under the bleachers.” He hesitated. “I know you had it rough. I got off easy, which was only because you protected me. Matt never cared.” I blew out a breath. “It’s fine. Every family has its favorites.” “It’s not fine. And I still wish every day you hadn’t left.” Emotion swelled up inside me, catching me off guard. “I miss you, Jimmy.” “I miss you too. We all do. Even Mom, though she won’t say anything.” My head dropped back. “I’ll try, OK?” “I’m going to put you down as a yes. We’ll set a place for you. You’ve got a few weeks to figure out

how.” I felt my lips curve without permission. “Thanks. Do you need anything done for the wedding? I’m not sure if I can come, but I could help you out. From a distance…” “You can help by coming.” “I knew you’d say that.” I dropped the phone on the duvet and pushed out of bed. My muscles complained before my feet hit the floor. You know that old song, “Love Hurts”? I get it now. They don’t mean emotional love. They mean physical love. I had wounds. Scars. Bruises. From fucking Avery Banks. Last night had left me sore. And weak. Which was why I hadn’t told my brother no. I got up and showered, cleaning the last of Avery from my body. Then I threw on some casual clothes and stumbled down to my favorite coffee shop to line up details for my trip with Grams. When our flights and hotel were sorted out, I worked on BBB. Once I’d set up posts for the next week, I shifted back in my seat and watched people pass the big window. I’m not the kind to go clingy and text “how are you?”s and “was it good for you?”s. But damn, I wanted to how he was. If he’d woken up wanting more.

Still, two bites into my second cookie, I was surprised to see my phone light up with a text. Avery: Wanted to make sure you recovered Avery: From the gala I couldn’t help the smile the pulled at my mouth. Charlie: I’m pretty tired. From the gala Avery: Are you sore Charlie: From the gala? Avery: From the gala I burst out laughing. A woman at the next table looked over, but I ignored her. Charlie: Yeah. It was a big gala Avery: OK. I just wanted to check on you Avery: No weekends Charlie: Right

Avery: See you Monday Instead of thinking about Avery, I hung out with Payton and updated my Grams on the trip we’d take together. I also considered my brother’s request to go home for the wedding. There was a wave of self-congratulatory emails circulated amongst the gala team, starting with one from Redpath saying it was “everything he’d expected.” Even Mallory had a smile on her face in the eight am debrief meeting Monday morning. Toward the end of our meeting, I felt tingling down my spine. My head jerked up like I’d heard a sound no one else could. It was the sound of my boss getting off the elevator. I watched him come down the hall, fingers working his phone like they’d worked me Friday night. He glanced up toward the cubicles like he was looking for me. Frowned when I wasn’t there. Charlie: Looking good boss He glanced around, stilling when his gaze found mine. Not in the office. No feelings. When it’s over, it’s over.

Looking back, the rules had seemed stupid. Now, I realized just how important they were. It was eleven when he appeared over the wall of my cubicle. “Charlotte? Would you grab me something at the deli down the street?” I glanced up from my work. “It’s early for lunch. Can I get it in an hour?” Avery’s jaw tightened, and the expression on his face made my whole body tingle. “Fine. I can get it in ten minutes.” It was fifteen when he walked into the deli. I abandoned the line, glancing around before following him to the bathroom. I locked the door. He backed me against it, dragging up my skirt with impatient hands. “How was your weekend.” “Nice, thanks for asking.” I jerked down the zipper and opened his belt. “You?” “Long.” His voice was tight, and urgent like his fingers when they found their way between my thighs. “My weekend was long.” Avery rocked into me until we both came, groaning. It would be totally normal for people at work to be suspicious, to catch on, given the different way Avery and I were acting this week. But Avery and I’d never been normal. “Charlotte, get me those files.” “Avery, do it yourself.”

“Brat.” “Dick.” Later in his car… “Shift over. I need in deeper.” “Oh fuck, I want your cock.” “Brat.” “Dick.” Followed by a chorus of moans the parking garage barely contained. It didn’t feel like sex. It felt like bouts of orgasmic gymnastics. Bridging those moments together were others. The kind you could only have when you were scrambling out of, or into, your clothes. When I’d make a joke, and he’d shoot me that wry grin he seemed to reserve for me. Or he’d zip me back into my dress, taking care with the zipper like he was afraid it would break. When he breezed into work Thursday morning, he called me into a conference room. “Good morning, Avery.” “Charlotte.” He sat at the end of the table, and I took a chair on one side. The glass wall that divided us from the hallway wouldn’t hide anything, and I raised a brow. “Interesting venue choice.” “I thought it might help keep us focused.” He opened his notebook computer and pulled open a window. “Check this out.”

I peered at the screen that included a bunch of blank lines. “This is your program? How does it work?” “Type something in. Like an industry. Say biotech.” I did. Up came Ivan Litchfield’s name. “Oh! That’s great.” I clicked on it, and it pulled up reams of information. An encyclopedia of the guy’s life and work. “But why is there only one record? I mean, we must have more clients in biotech.” Avery frowned. “Because Redpath’s still gunshy when it comes to sharing client data. He’s worried something like Hollister’s going to happen again. The problem is, we need this if we want to grow our business.” “So what if Redpath won’t let you use it?” “Then we’re basically screwed.” I shifted back in my seat. “So Redpath won’t let you test your program because he’s worried about access to client data.” “Correct. Sales teams are taking a hit, and it’s not just about getting new business. The stunt with the comedian might’ve worked last week, but today, we’re all business. It’s about covering our ass.” I chewed a pen. “Hollister would’ve loved what you were selling. Redpath wants to protect current clients before we get new ones.” My eyes glazed over as I scanned the output screen of the program.

Until my eyes landed on the top left corner where it said “date updated.” “Wait a second. Your program pulls data from different sources. Does it capture when and how that happens? When people access it?” “I think so. Everything that goes into and out of this should leave a digital fingerprint. Why?” “Well, if it tracks who accessed it and displays the history for anyone who needs to know— wouldn’t that prevent unauthorized use? I mean, you could even set it up to flag deviations, right? Like with the expense system—” I remembered what I’d shown Rose last week “—it automatically flags things that are out of the ordinary. You could do that with this, send up a flag for weird usage.” Avery snapped his fingers. “Yes.” He shifted forward in the chair, his eyes lighting up. “That’s fucking brilliant, if it works.” Pride washed over me, even as his face fell. “But there’s no way to test it in time. I’m already over my IT hours allocation. I’d budgeted just enough time to import some real client data—a few thousand records instead of the hundred we have—to demo it for Redpath next week.” I considered. “I might be able to help with that too. But I’d need to call someone outside the company.” He looked suspicious. “Charlotte…” “He’s legit. I swear. I trust him. And it’s not like

he needs to access client data to do it, right? He just needs to write the code.” He studied me a long time. “OK.” I picked up the phone and hit an entry in my contacts. “Hey, Riley.” “Hi to you too. To what do I owe the pleasure?” “You know about computers, right?” Avery rubbed a hand over his face, then reached for the phone. I ducked him, shifting out of my seat and crossing to stand by the window. “Yes. I snap my fingers and nerds come running.” “We’re building something over here that’s top secret. A way to pull all of our client data into one master file, like a giant stack of virtual Post-its. What we want to do is know who accessed the files and when. Do you have someone who could look at that?” “Muppet has a background in database work.” I paused. “Translation?” “It means we can take a look. Send it over.” I clicked off, and Avery blew out a breath. “If this works, I owe you.” “You owe me no matter what.” I reached for the hem of my skirt, tugging it up like I was scratching an itch. But I flashed the top of my thigh-high. “Are you forgetting our rules?” he muttered. “No.” I nodded my head yes and his stern

expression dissolved into wanting. “Let’s skip Tilt tonight,” he murmured. “And do what?” “You know what. But we can go somewhere else. Change of scenery.” I fought the disappointment. He meant to hookup. Because that’s what we were doing. Still, I had a secret. I lived for this time with him. Not just naked. Everything in between. But it didn’t matter that he was fun to talk to. That I liked how seriously he took things. How intent he was on demolishing any problems that stood in his way. Because he doesn’t need, or want, anyone. “I can’t tonight,” I heard myself say. “I have plans later.” Avery opened his briefcase on the table, replacing the sheaf of papers. “With who?” “Bunch of men.” The case closed with a bang. “Three of them, actually.” Now I had his attention. “You know, I’d love to introduce you to them.”

23

DR. THATCHER’S A BUFFOON

“Y

ou going to tell me where we’re going?” “And ruin the fun of keeping Mr. I Know Everything in suspense? No way.” I shifted into the passenger seat of Avery’s Jeep. My black cigarette pants and flats had replaced my skirt and heels. I’d pulled on a headband that pushed my crazy hair back off my face. Being out in the daylight with him felt different. Good. He handled the Jeep easily, and I snuck looks at him in between calling out directions to get us through the last of the rush hour traffic. “Why do you even have this car?” “What, I’m not the rugged outdoors type?” he

deadpanned. I slid down my sunglasses to take in his close shave, the slick haircut. The easy elegance in his mint green shirt, cuffs still buttoned from the workday. “Nope.” “I lost a bet.” “Seriously?” I glanced at the Jeep. “It’s not that bad.” “It used to be pink.” The car pulled to a stop, and Avery looked over. I managed to stop laughing long enough to ask, “Why was it pink?” “The guys in law school used to call me Ken. Like Ken and Barbie. Kenna thought it was hilarious. During the time I was looking for a car, we were drunk and made a bet. I lost, so I got the Barbie Jeep.” “How long did you drive it for before painting it?” “A year. Those were the terms. It’s hard to get out of bets with lawyers.” “I can imagine.” I shifted back in my seat, the grin seemingly etched on my face. Avery cut the engine, cocking his head to look out the window. “You sure we’re in the right place?” “Absolutely.” I slid out of the car and rounded the hood, starting for the front doors. We passed a woman sitting on the bench and knitting, in her own

world. “Hi, Tricia.” She didn’t respond. I held the door for Avery, and, with a raised brow, he went inside. “What are we doing here?” “I’m putting you to work, boss.” Our strangely happy bubble burst when the man in chinos and a pressed shirt stopped in front of us. “Charlie.” “Dr. Thatcher. Daniel.” Dr. Thatcher glanced between me and Avery, his brown gaze assessing. He held his tablet between his body and ours like a shield. “How’ve you been?” “Good.” He shook his head, like he suddenly remembered manners his mom had taught him a long time ago. He held out a hand to Avery. “Daniel Thatcher. Doctor Daniel Thatcher.” Avery glanced between us, his expression hardening. “Avery Banks.” It was the most awkward silence since the time I’d walked in on a full guys’ bathroom at Tilt because I didn’t want to wait for the ladies’. I opened my mouth, but Dr. Thatcher shook his head. “Well, I’m late for rounds. Your grandmother’s blood pressure has been up. We’ll keep an eye on it.” “OK. Thanks, Dr. Thatcher.”

He continued down the hall, his steps seeming more hurried than before. “Did you date that guy?” “No. He did ask me out.” “And you said…” “I prefer to drink alone.” “That’s my girl.” Avery followed me toward the recreation room. I stopped to pull the bin out of the cupboard in the corner. I set out the props on the piano at the front and went to the sound system. My usuals were trickling in, but for one. I’d have to see my Grams after. “You guys better be on your best behavior— yes, that means no f-bombs—because I have a special assistant today and I don’t want you to scare him away.” Avery’s mouth twitched at the corner as I turned to set up the record player. “He’s new to dancing, but as you can see, he’s cute. So cut him some slack.” Micheal Buble’s “Haven’t Met You Yet” flowed from the speakers. “OK. Foxtrot, people. Slow, slow…quick, quick.” I got the couples set up, and because most of them knew this one, it wasn’t long before I turned to Avery. “You dance, boss?” “No. And I didn’t know you did.” Dancing was a place I never felt self-conscious, but today I did as I placed his hand on my back. I

coaxed the other to extend at his side, then rested my hand in his. “This is your frame. Don’t crush my hand. Pretend there’s a bird between your hand and mine and we need to keep it alive.” I showed him one step, two. He followed, fast and confident. “Good.” “You think you and me could keep a living creature alive?” he smirked. “You already have Charlie.” “A dog is one thing. Kids, on the other hand…” I glanced up at him, surprised. “You want children?” “I like children. And I like the idea of having someone that’s part of me, and someone I respect.” The way he looked at me had me tingling. “But I don’t like relationships.” “That is a problem.” Avery’s fingers tightened on mine. “Relationships are built on dependence. Someone has the strength. And someone wants it. It can swing like a pendulum. But someone’s always winning and someone’s always losing.” I didn’t have a response for that so focused on what we were doing. “OK. Now shuffle to the side… Again.” We did a few basic steps, adding in the movement across the floor. “You sure you haven’t done this before?” I asked, suspicious.

“Once. Kenna broke up with her boyfriend right before prom. She went through a phase for a few days where she wanted me to take her. I told her she couldn’t possibly want to be seen with her brother, but she insisted.” He shook his head, like he was remembering it. “So I learned. YouTube—I wasn’t about to humiliate myself in front of a class. But they got back together the day before prom, and thankfully I never had to use it.” My heart squeezed. “That’s sweet. I had no idea you were such a sap.” A flash of color caught my eye. “Grams!” I stepped out of Avery’s arms and wove between couples to my grandmother. “Charlie, dear, don’t let me stop you. My bowels were clearing up so I thought I’d come and say hello.” She eyed up Avery. “Who’s this handsome brute?” Avery looked between us before extending his hand. My grandmother held out hers, and he surprised both of us by lifting it to his lips. I stifled a snort, but Grams cut a look at me. “I want this one.” “Let me train him up first.” She settled into a stool in the corner while I took Avery back. “You brought me to meet your grandmother?” “Don’t flatter yourself.” My body moved easily,

and I could’ve done it in my sleep. We turned a few more times, me keeping an eye on the others over his shoulder. But mostly I was enjoying the feel of his touch, the strength of his body. I’d never danced with someone I’d been with before, and it was different. Good different. “Charlie, don’t hog the man.” The spell broke and I snuck a look over my shoulder. “You got it, Grams.” I turned to Avery. “Go easy on her,” I murmured. “She’s not as spry as she looks. She shouldn’t be dancing, and…” “Charlotte. I know.” His expression put me at ease. “I can hear you,” Grams said. “Just because you’re going to go easy on me, Avery, doesn’t mean I’ll extend the same courtesy to you.” He flashed me a pleased grin before taking her hands and moving her across the floor. Slowly. Gently. But with every ounce of his usual charisma, as I watched them fall into easy conversation. I grabbed a feather boa from the box of props and draped it around my shoulders, playing with the fluffy ends. I watched them for a moment, my heart doing a funny twitchy thing. Seeing him with Grams made me wonder if I’d been wrong about a lot of things. He wasn’t the kind of guy I could see myself with. He was too educated. Too arrogant. Too hard. Everything about him was hard.

Except being with him. The end of the record startled me out of my daydream. “That’s all for now, guys.” I walked them out, saying goodbye to each of them and teasing them along the way. “Grams, let me walk you back. You weren’t supposed to dance today. Dr. Thatcher wanted you to take it easy.” “Dr. Thatcher’s a buffoon. Could you go get my walker please?” She sent a faint smile Avery’s way. “Thank you, Avery.” I watched him retrieve it. It was sweet seeing my grandmother tell him what to do. As if her errand wasn’t solely for the purpose of getting him out of earshot. “Next weekend we’re going to New York,” I promised. “You and me. We’ll relive the glory days.” She patted my hand. “Your glory days are still ahead, Charlie. Mark my words.” She threw a meaningful look at Avery before he returned. We walked her to her room before returning to clean up the props. “She’s quite the force.” Avery slid the record we’d been playing back into its case. I put the props we’d been using back in the bin. “She had my mom late in life. When most of her friends were getting married and having kids, she decided she wanted to be a Rockette. No one told her she couldn’t do what she wanted.”

“Kind of like you.” His face lit up as he went to put the record back in with the others. His fingers grabbed the edge of a new cover, lifted it out. “Dean Martin. From the original Ocean’s Eleven.” He held up “Ain’t that a Kick in the Head.” A smile pulled across my face and I nodded. He set the needle on the record. The smooth voice chirped out and filled the room that was now empty except for us, stacks of chairs in the corner, and the bins of props on a table. Avery held out his arms as he raised a brow. “Who, me?” I teased as I stepped into them. I peered up at him. It felt different being here alone with him. More intimate. “You’re good,” he decided under his breath. “How old were you when you started?” “Twelve. My mom wanted me to do this local pageant. I thought it was dumb, but my cousin was doing it too and she seemed so excited. So I said yes.” I snorted. “I would’ve rather been fishing in our pond. But my mom bought me a dress, shoes, everything. I took dance lessons. Practiced at night in my room. Long after everyone went to bed.” “And did it pay off?” I cocked my head. “Well, the day of the pageant, my cousin’s dog had ripped into her dress. We were the same size and without asking, my mom gave her mine instead. I mean, she was a great singer. She actually won, so I told myself it

was a worthwhile sacrifice.” “A mature response to a difficult situation.” His hands were warm on mine as he pulled me around the floor. “Well, the next day I broke into her room during my aunt’s barbecue and stole her trophy.” His mouth twitched. “No one would’ve known, except one of my brothers caught it fishing off the dock in the pond the next summer.” “That’s the Charlotte I know.” His smile faded. “The man. The married one. Was that a prank too?” Being honest was risky. But in the moment, looking up into his earnest expression, I didn’t have it in me to lie. “Derek was a teacher. Not at my school,” I went on as his body stiffened, “but the ladies at church group still ate the scandal up like finger sandwiches.” I caught sight of us in a mirror by the door and lifted my chin, stretched through the top of my head. Habit. “I wish I could say I did it to piss off my mom, though it definitely did that. I was never the best at anything. Never the smartest, or the funniest. Not the most artistic. Looking back, I think the affair and me dropping out of school was the cherry on top of a double fudge sundae of disappointment I’d dished up for her. “I was eighteen. Hungry for attention.

Validation. Excitement. Derek was there. He told me I was beautiful. Special. That I should be loved. “I shut out everyone for him. My family. My friends. Anyone who said it was a bad idea. Every step brought me closer to him, cut me off further from everyone else. I can remember the day I found out I was pregnant. It should’ve been the last straw but it gave me hope. Hope that this, finally, would make it worthwhile. He told me he’d take care of me.” We’d stopped moving. I glanced past Avery’s shoulder at the record player. Dean was still crooning from the speaker, but the air felt thick. “I’m sorry.” My smile felt like it was made of tissue paper. Fragile and tentative. “This got heavy fast.” Avery’s face gave me confidence. “It’s OK,” he murmured, pulling me closer, his hand tightening on mine. “I want to know.” I took a breath. “I didn’t bank on him being married. He said they were separated, which wasn’t exactly true. I decided to leave home and Derek promised to follow me. I waited years for him. Long after the miscarriage that should’ve been a relief. Wrote to him every day, even after his phone number changed.” I cocked my head. “Come on. I know you’re dying to say something. Like how you never would’ve gotten

pulled in by that shit.” “No, I don’t think I would’ve gotten seduced by a tall, dark, and studly teacher,” he deadpanned. My throat felt too tight to laugh, but I appreciated the effort. “Charlotte, how you grew up is none of my business. But I reserve the right to hate him anyway.” The song finished. “Thank you for that,” I said, stepping out of his arms and crossing to the record player. “I wasn’t an innocent bystander, though. All the guys in my school paled in comparison to Derek. He was older. Experienced. Interesting. And he wanted me. It felt so good to be wanted.” I put the record away, then carried the box of records to the shelf in the corner. When I turned back, Avery was standing next to the record player, studying me. “It still hurts,” I went on, “looking back, the bridges I’ve burned. But maybe some good has come from it. I needed my grandparents, and they were there for me. Now I can be there for them. It is nice being leaned on sometimes.” I spanned the distance between us, stopping just in front of him. “It’s a lot of pressure,” he said finally. “When Kenna first moved in with me, I used to lie awake at night terrified someone would take her away. Now, I worry I’m going to let her down.”

“I met Kenna for all of ten minutes. But from seeing you together, it’s pretty damn obvious she loves you, Avery Banks. And you deserve to be loved.” The words were out before I could think about them. My heart hammered in my chest as he studied me. Not because of the attention; because of the expression on his face. Like I was the only person in the world, not just the room. Avery lifted the ends of the boa I’d forgotten was around my neck. Used them to pull me closer. Close enough we were breathing the same air. His gaze dropped to my mouth. “You know what?” “What,” I whispered. “You deserve to be loved too.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you fall.

24

APPRECIATION

“W

here were you last night?” Payton rolled up to me in the lobby. “You weren’t at Tilt. You’re always at Tilt.” My friend scooped ice cream into her mouth, her replacement for watermelon. Then cringed. “Brain freeze?” I sympathized. “Just cramps.” I frowned. “That’s not good when you’re pregnant. Speaking of, how’s Max doing with the new normal?” “Better. Now he’s being careful with me. Like he knows his first response wasn’t the right one, but he’s not sure what to say instead.” “You’ll get through it.” She turned big eyes on me. “You think so?”

“For all of Max’s…quirks, he adores you. He’ll come around.” She winced again and I frowned. “Come on, let’s get you some water.” I steered her toward the water fountain at the entrance to the gym. It was noon, and the gym was half-full. “At least Redpath seems to have taken an interest in me now.” “That’s great.” I hesitated. “There’s something I need to tell you, Payton. Avery and I overheard some news…” I filled her in on what we’d learned from Redpath in the closet two weeks ago. It felt good to get it off my chest. “So if corporate’s likely downsizing, why is Avery still here?” “He says he’s not going anywhere.” “Huh.” She turned it over. “That’s pretty decent, you know.” As we passed the glass windows, something caught my eye. Everything slowed down. Avery was doing pull-downs on a bench, the bar coming down behind his head before he pressed it back up. I’d known he worked out a few days a week. I’d never thought about it… Until now. The white tank left his shoulders and arms bare.

My throat dried as I saw those muscles work. “Hmmm.” I tore my gaze away to look at my friend. “What? He’s hot.” “No argument. But that’s not lusty face. That’s feelings face.” “How do you know?” “Because I’ve never seen that face on you except when you look at that man.” “We spent two years hating each other.” “Maybe you felt something for each other but neither of you was ready for it. Besides, you won’t be his admin in another week. After that? Blank slate. You can do anything you want.” I turned back to see Avery release the bar, shifting back to take a breath. Watching him like this, I felt like a voyeur. But if he turned, spotted me through the glass… Payton was right. He’d be the one seeing things he shouldn’t. “Avery met my grandmother,” I blurted. When I turned, I found Payton staring at me. “Holy shit. Have you ever introduced a guy to her before?” “No.” “Charlie. Do you love him?” I opened my mouth to say no way, but the words stuck in my throat. “I can’t, Payton. It’s against the rules.”

“Screw the rules.” “But they’re not Alliance’s rules. These are our rules. And we promised each other we’d keep this casual. If we break that…” I could picture his face. The betrayal. The way he’d close off, get cold. “I’m not sure what’s left.” “Then maybe you can take it slow. Test him out.” “Meaning?” “Meaning what if you break one teeny, tiny rule and see how he responds?” Her eyes sparkled.

Three heads turned toward me when I knocked on the door. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Mr. Siskinds and his business partner turned toward my voice. I only cared about the third head as I hovered in the doorway, tugging at the edge of my skirt. “Charlie,” Siskinds said, his face dissolving into a wide smile. “Good seeing you last week. The gala was the most fun I’ve had in ages. I might have to book that comedian for one of my restaurants sometime.” “Thanks, Mr. Siskinds. I’m sure she’d love that.” Avery’s attention went to my face. Stayed there. “Mr. Banks, Mr. Redpath wants to see you later

today. I’ve booked you in for three but wanted to give you a heads-up.” “Thank you, Charlotte,” he replied smoothly. “We’re nearly done.” I nodded and went back to my cubicle. It felt more like my desk than it ever had, which was strange since it was nearly three weeks since I’d done my “real” job. But then, a lot had changed. Someone—probably Mallory—had left a snapshot of the gala team, and on impulse I’d pinned it up on my board. Noises from Avery’s office meant the door had opened and his meeting was filtering out. I was typing on my computer when a form appeared over me. My smile was polite. “Mr. Banks. I assume Mr. Siskinds wants to open that new restaurant?” “He does. And we can help him.” He cleared his throat, scanning the room before his gaze came back to me. “Can I see you in my office?” I followed him across the hall. I pulled the door closed after us. “Does Redpath really want to meet me at three.” I tried to look offended. “Yes. You think I made that up?” “You just had to come in and tell me. Looking like that.” He looked me up and down, his gaze scanning my burgundy blouse, the grey pencil skirt.

“What does ‘like that’ mean?” I crossed the room and hopped up on his desk. He followed me, pausing with a few feet between us as his gaze roamed my face. “Like an angel. Or the devil.” “I have something to show you.” “Charlotte, not in the office. We agreed...” he trailed off as I held up my phone. I showed him the email from Riley as he read over my shoulder. The easy intimacy of it wasn’t lost on me. “Looks like it’s possible to have your current program report everyone who’s accessing data, and build in permissions. Riley’s got someone who can even do it this week.” “Fuck, I could kiss you.” “Why don’t you?” I waited for him to look happy. But when Avery’s gaze settled on me, it was full of something I couldn’t read. “We said not in the office.” “Actually, we said that in the office you’re my boss and I’m your assistant.” I shifted one leg over the other, felt his gaze linger on my thighs. “So tell me what to do.” His eyes darkened, and he closed the last of the distance between us. His hand settled on my thigh, fingers lightly digging into my flesh. I pulled his hand up my skin, under the edge of

my skirt. Higher. High enough his hand reached my hip. Where he should’ve felt the edge of panties. The ones I’d stripped off before coming in here. His expression heated. “Say it again.” I knew what he wanted. “Mr. Banks.” Avery’s mouth found my jaw, sliding along the skin there and waking every nerve ending on the way. “Why is that so fucking hot.” I shifted, tugging my skirt up around my hips. Slid my fingers between my thighs and let out a little moan when I brushed my skin. Avery’s gaze, hot and wanting, made me feel like a goddess. I reached up to pull the elastic out of my hair, shaking it out. He traced a finger along my neck. I arched against his touch. “Put it back up,” he murmured. “Why?” “Because you’re going to sweat. And I want to see it.” Holy shit. This man. I complied, and on a groan his hands tugged my ponytail, pulling and forcing me to arch against his mouth when it traveled down to my collarbone. Yes. Yes, yes. This was what it felt like to win when it mattered. I felt the air on my skin when he popped one

button free, then two. Then his mouth moved over my chest and tugged down my bra, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a groan that would’ve had me wet if I wasn’t already. “I need you to do something for me,” he muttered. He switched to the other nipple, and I would’ve signed over my life in that moment for the feel of his hot breath on my skin. “All right.” “I need you to type out an email.” The fantasy screeched to a halt. “You’re kidding.” The challenge in his eyes taunted me. I could refuse, but I wanted to find out what he was up to. “Go around the desk, bend over my computer, and open a new email.” Finally I did. “Dear Charlotte.” I tried to turn around but he stopped me. “No. Type.” I did. “I wanted to express my appreciation for your help with the client database project. It will be transformative for this organization.” He was closer, but I didn’t know what he was doing until the creak of leather told me he’d taken a seat in his chair. His hands found my ass. Avery’s breath between my legs made me jump. When his tongue licked down my hot slit, I nearly knocked the keyboard off the desk. “This isn’t working.”

“It is,” I whined. “You need to be quiet if we’re going to do this here.” I glanced back to see him unknotting the tie from his neck. It came around my mouth, and I dripped down my thigh right then and there. His fingers brushed the back of my cheek, and I sensed for the first time how close to the edge he was. I turned, and he cleared his throat. “I wanted to show my appreciation.” He nudged my legs farther apart. His mouth returned, and I moaned into the tie. He rubbed a circle around my opening, and I shuddered. “I don’t hear typing,” he reminded me. “You stop typing, I stop appreciating.” I tried to remember what he’d said and did my best to repeat it. “Good girl.” His fingers came back, rubbing circles over my clit. My legs shook as he stroked me, punctuated by his mouth. He sucked and licked and tweaked and teased me. It was so fucking hot. He was so hot. I should’ve felt awkward doing this in the middle of the day on his desk. His financial statements under my elbows. His computer screen in front of me. It made it…real. Because if this was ever a fantasy, it wouldn’t have been like this. The details would’ve been missing. The strain in my legs from bending over in high heels. The vibration from

his mouth. The stretch as he pressed another finger inside me, pulling a moan from my throat. The slightly bitter taste of the fabric in my mouth. “I trust you’ll continue in your productive service. Sincerely, Avery.” He must have glanced up, because his fingers stopped. I could’ve sobbed. “Charlotte. I didn’t ask you to write an email full of gibberish.” I reached to the gag in my mouth, pulling it down. “I didn’t ask you to stop licking my pussy.” He pressed two fingers into my mouth. I sucked, my eyes closing as I tasted my flavor on them. Then I heard the zip of his pants. Followed by a tearing noise. I glanced back to see him rolling the condom down his thick cock. “You wanted to fuck in my office, Duchess,” he murmured against my ear. I shivered. “We’re going to do it my way.” He pulled me toward him. His hard cock found my pussy, and I nearly choked on his fingers as he tugged me all the way down on him. The noise that escaped from him—the part of the groan he couldn’t hold in—was the hottest thing I’d ever heard. This was where we’d started, and if it was where we ended too, that was enough. In this moment, here with him, I couldn’t see the past or

the future. Just this, just now. Feeling completely taken and overwhelmed and part of him. Desperate to pretend he was mine too. “Shit, Charlotte,” Avery murmured in my ear. “So fucking good.” I found his reflection in the dark computer monitor, and my lips released his fingers with a pop. “Avery…” I managed. He followed my gaze. His fingers dug harder into my hips as his gaze met mine in the reflective surface. I didn’t resist when he reached for the tie looped around my neck and pressed it back into my mouth. I swallowed saliva as his hand found my breast, working and twisting my nipple until my head fell back in pleasure. My hips lifted and lowered on his cock, riding him. Glancing every few strokes up at the monitor, our gazes locked. I needed this. The man I knew was more than he showed to the world. More than he offered anyone. He built me up, and I wondered if he felt that too. His shuddering breath against my back, the kneading of my breasts as he fucked me hard until we both crashed over the edge, me crying out into the tie as he groaned against my neck. I collapsed on top of him. I pulled the limp tie from my mouth with shaky

hands. “Fuck,” I panted, holding up the soaked silk. “I hope you have a spare for your meeting with Redpath.” He let out a low half-laugh. “That was…” “…unbelievable.” I shifted off him, turning to sit on the desk facing him. His face was damp with sweat, wrecked and satisfied. Underneath it was something I couldn’t read. Something that had my heart turning over. Maybe if he was into this enough he’d realize we couldn’t end this. That with his promotion in sight and finding a new assistant imminent, he wasn’t ready to sign off from this. Voices beyond the door reminded me where we were. I started straightening my clothes, and he stood and did the same. “There’s something I want to ask you,” he started, zipping his pants and reaching for his belt. “OK.” I adjusted my bra straps. This was it. Our chance. “I need to talk to Kenna.” His voice was still rough from what we’d done. “It could be a touchy subject, and I thought maybe you’d approach her.” “Kenna?” I blinked, trying to catch up. “No problem.” Was it about our relationship? That he wanted to make sure she’d be OK with us? Yes. That had to be it.

“That would be a huge relief. There’s no one else I’d ask to do it. This tuition conversation won’t go away. Now she’s threatening to drop out of school. You know firsthand how hard it is not to go to school. I don’t want that for her.” I’d just finished buttoning my shirt when his words sank in. My hands stilled on the final button. “Wait. You want me to talk to your sister about her school.” “Yes.” He said it like it was obvious. “So I’m the cautionary tale. It’s ‘Don’t be like Charlotte.’” He frowned, confused. “Of course not. But she has this chance, and I don’t want her throwing it away. Her options will be limited.” Because I was still the woman who didn’t make the right choices. Who didn’t have the answers. Who’d screwed up so others could learn from her lesson. I was good enough for him to fuck in his office, but that was where it ended. “I’ll see what I can do.” I finger combed my hair and rounded his desk, heading for the door. “Good luck in the meeting with Redpath.” “Your phone’s been ringing for the last hour,” Rose commented when I returned to my desk. I lifted the receiver and frowned when I heard the message. My finger pressed the redial button. “This is Charlie Merriweather.”

“Ms. Merriweather, it’s Tracy from the retirement home. It’s your grandmother.”

25

PEOPLE DO IT IN MOVIES

“W

hat are you looking at so intently?” I glanced up at the guy working the café counter. “Cookies.” “You want one? The chocolate chip are our best sellers.” “No.” I took the coffee and set my change on the counter before turning and starting toward the door. I walked home and let myself up into the apartment. The gray weather outside made it feel just as depressing inside. The floorboards I hadn’t noticed were starting to warp. The cheap cabinets reflecting back the light. But the majority of my tiny one bedroom was dominated by boxes. A dozen of them, forming a

cardboard fortress as high as my head. And they might as well have been a fortress. Walls that felt like they were crushing me. A truck had moved them here this morning from the retirement residence. The guy who’d dropped them off had no idea what they were. Just asked me to sign for them in a bored voice. The last twenty-four hours had been a haze. A continuation of the numbness I’d felt since leaving early yesterday, asking Rose to cover for me with Avery. I’d managed an “I’m fine” to her concerned face as I stumbled out of the office. I’d spent last night at the retirement home. And on the phone. In a blur of compassionate faces and questions I didn’t know how to answer. The medical staff said it’d been sudden. A stroke sometime after lunch. The funeral home was cremating her according to her wishes. They said they’d let me know when she was ready to be released. Released. Like they were holding her somewhere, and any minute she’d bust out, cackling “Gotcha, suckers!” I knew there were things I should be doing. I’d even Googled “what to do when someone dies.” But I couldn’t bring myself to click through even the first result. So when I’d gotten home at one this morning, I’d opened my freezer to get some waffles for

dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever the meals I’d missed were. I’d taken one look at the frozen cash and shut the door. Then padded to my bedroom and lay there staring at the ceiling. Now it was nearly two in the afternoon. All I’d managed to do was look for coffee, realize I was out, and stumble down the street in my pajamas to get some at the café. The phone made me jump. I glanced at it, letting it go to voicemail. The caller tried back a minute later. I reached for the phone, sighing before I answered. “It’s Saturday.” “You left early yesterday.” Avery’s irritated voice came down the line. “It’s the weekend. We don’t do weekends, remember?” He cursed. “Don’t hang up. I’m at your door.” I dropped back onto the couch and felt my soul fold in with my body. Dammit. I couldn’t deal with anyone else. “Avery…I can’t do this right now. We can talk Monday.” I hung up and went back to staring at the boxes. I’d spent the night before on the phone with my brothers, telling them the story. They’d offered to come and help, but I knew Jimmy was busy getting ready for the wedding and Matt was supposed to be taking his wife and two little girls on vacation next

week. They asked if I wanted our parents to help, and I’d said a firm and immediate no. A scratching at the window on the far side of the kitchen pulled my attention. I crossed the floor and opened the window. “What the hell? The fire escape?” “People do it in movies all the time,” Avery bit out from his position kneeling on the metal of the ledge outside my window. His expression was dark as the clouds. I pulled him in through the window. Avery shoved a hand through hair that’d been messed up by sweat or the rain outside. He brushed off his chinos and polo shirt. The WASP wardrobe stood out against my faded pink shorts and purple off-the-shoulder t-shirt, threadbare from too many washes. “Were you in bed?” “No.” He turned around, his gaze landing on the boxes. “What’s with the boxes?” “Grams.” His brows knit together, and to his credit he figured it out. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” “She was old. That’s what happens. No matter what we’ve done with our lives, whether we’ve fucked it all up or won a goddamned Oscar or run our own company, we’re all in the same place in the end. All that’s left is a box sitting in someone’s living room.”

He crossed to me, folding me in his arms without asking permission. I reached for his forearms to push him away, but he refused to let me go. “Avery, we don’t do this.” He stiffened. “I can’t tell you I’m sorry.” “You can say it. But you can’t act like that matters.” I stepped back, reaching for my coffee on the counter. Cupping the paper cup protectively in my hands. The warmth didn’t reach my body. “No?” he challenged. “You’ve got it all worked out, have you? Arrangements? Your feelings? Ready to go on with your life? Charlotte, I know what it’s like to have someone leave when you least expect it. To turn what you thought you knew upside down.” I took a sip of the drink, staring past him at the boxes. “I’m the executioner,” I mumbled finally. “Executor?” “Whatever.” His gaze raked across my living room, and the compassionate mode was gone, replaced by something else. He crossed the room in a few short steps, hanging his jacket on the back of one of my wooden dining chairs. Then he approached the boxes. Laid a hand on one; tilted to inspect behind the first stack.

“Did your grandmother have a lot of assets?” he asked as he turned back to me. I stared back blankly. “I don’t think so. It was her and my grandfather, but he died a few years earlier.” “Did she keep good records?” My heavy feet carried me toward him and the boxes. “If it’s black, that’s good, and if it’s red, that’s bad, right?” Avery’s face grew more serious. “I can take a look at the financials.” I didn’t respond, and after a moment he added, “If you want.” I crossed to the kitchen and lifted a shoebox stuffed with papers. A stack of envelopes was tied to it with an elastic band. “Plus six weeks’ worth of mail. Apparently she stopped opening it a while ago.” Avery blew out a breath, his face a mask of concentration. “You’ll want to start with the will.” I went to my desk and pulled out the envelope, handing it to him. He glanced at the folded sheets of paper inside. “Everything went to you.” “I don’t want it,” I said vehemently. “I don’t want any of it. We were supposed to go to New York.” He watched silently. I was talking like a crazy person, but I couldn’t change it. “Grab a chair,” he said at last.

“Why?” “Because this—” he waved a hand at the boxes “—is going to take a while.”

One file after another was dumped on my dining table in what could have passed for the Mount Everest of paper. I pulled myself together enough to help. Helping meant filing the things in the way Avery suggested. When my stomach growled, I ran out to get dinner while Avery continued, his back straight as he sorted sheets into piles for savings, social security, debts, and investments, and entered numbers into the calculator app of his phone. The “good thing,” said Avery, was that there was life insurance. He’d made the thirty-minute phone call while I’d sat in the next chair, staring at the documents spread out on the table and tidying them into neat rows. I had a hard time processing…any of this. What I could process was how much of a machine he was. How methodical. His ability to take over, to know what needed to be done… If I’d had the capacity to feel, I would’ve felt grateful. By the end of the day we had a binder full of materials that were tagged and color-coded using swipes of the pink, purple, blue, and silver nail

polishes I’d pulled out from the bathroom. “We need this checked by a probate attorney. I’ll call a school friend.” I shifted back in my chair, stretching one arm and then the other. He shifted a hip against the table. The blue polo stretched across his chest and arms, and I wished I could appreciate it. “You should get some rest,” he said finally. I trailed him to the door. “If you need a day or two off work, take it. I’m sure Rose can fill in.” “Thanks.” Avery’s gaze met mine, and the emotion in it was more than I was prepared for. Especially after what’d hit me for the last forty-eight hours. “Something happened Friday. Before you walked out.” I folded my hands in front of me. Studied the nail polish I’d been picking at last night and today. “I had this idea.” The idea that we were more than fuck buddies. More than the rules we’d made. I swallowed the words as I lifted my gaze to his. “It was a stupid idea.” “Was it.” He studied me levelly. “Yes. I don’t want to be your cautionary tale, Avery. Not with your sister or anyone else. I know what it’s like to want more from someone who doesn’t feel the same.” I didn’t want sex. I wanted him here. His sturdy,

confident presence and the way it filled the room. The blue gaze that felt like he could see inside my head. “Charlotte…” “I’ll see you at work, boss.” He nodded once and pulled the door after him. I glanced at the phone I’d muted while we were working. The voicemail blinked up at me. With a steadying breath, I checked the number. The funeral home. To “release” her. Emotion hit me like a wave. When I jerked the door open, he was halfway down the stairs. “Avery.” He turned back, laying a hand on the railing. His gaze filled with concern and questions. “I know this isn’t what you signed on for.” My voice shook. He took a step up the stairs. “We said no feelings. No complications.” Another step. “But I can’t breathe.” My eyes filled, and I pressed my hand to my throat. “I can’t even…” He reached the top step. Avery’s arms opened, and he pulled me into them as my legs gave out. I crumbled against his body. I pressed my face against his shirt as we sank to the stairs. His hands found my hair, not playing, just holding, and my grief tore through me like a storm.

26

IT’S NOT ABOUT POWER

I

blinked my eyes open. I was on the couch. Avery’d put me there after I’d cried until I couldn’t. I pushed off the pillow I hadn’t remembered tucking under my head and sat up. It was late. Avery must’ve slipped out without me seeing him. Except his shoes were by the door. The window to the fire escape was open. I stood, padding across the floor to the window and leaning my head out. “You’re here.” Avery took a drag on his cigarette before turning to me. “You’re awake. How are you.” “Better.” I raised a brow. “What about you? You don’t usually carry those around.” “It’s been a rough couple of days.” I crawled

out to sit next to him, and he braced his arms on the railing. “Your meeting with Redpath,” I realized. In all the chaos I’d forgotten. “What did he have to say?” “They’ve had a recruiter looking externally for potential hires for the director role. The committee’s decided I’m not ready for the promotion. It’s over.” He shifted, putting out the cigarette and placing it carefully next to him. There was a garbage dumpster in the alley below, but he didn’t toss it. Like he didn’t want to forget he’d smoked it. Something pinged dully in the back of my head. News that’d come in yesterday after I’d left. “Maybe not.” I hit ‘forward’ on the email that’d come to my personal account. Avery lifted his phone, a question on his face as he clicked into email. Then his expression froze. “Wait. This is my program.” “With a few enhancements. Riley said one of his guys was able to code in the changes you wanted. It might not look pretty, but it works. Which means—” “I can show Redpath there’s an accountability trail. And if he’s true to his word, there’s no reason I can’t test it this week. Before my review. And before they decide about the director job.” His blue gaze met mine. “Charlotte. This is a game changer.” I kicked my feet over the edge, noticing the

neon orange of my toenails against the gray and brown of the alley below. “I don’t understand why you’ve spent all your time as an assistant. You could’ve moved up by now.” “I hate it,” I said. “The politics. The old boys’ club. It’s bullshit. I know you get along in what whole world just fine, but some days it’s all I can do not to scream.” “So what will you do when you leave.” “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t fit in at Alliance, but I don’t know where I will fit. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever fit in anywhere.” Avery’s gaze darkened. “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid to decide what you do want. Because then you’ll have no excuse not to go for it.” “Stop it,” I blurted. Avery stiffened next to me. “I can’t do this. You. Here. Talking like you know me. Like we’re together.” “You don’t want me here.” The hurt in his voice only made it worse. “I want you everywhere, Avery. When you’re with me, I’m happy. When you’re not, I wonder where you are. And that’s the problem. Because we’re playing office or house or whatever the hell you want to call it, but we’re really nothing.” Avery reached for another cigarette. Tapped it on the railing a few times before setting it, unlit,

next to the other one. “Charlotte, you don’t wake up one day and decide not to spend your life with someone. You know the only secret to success I’ve learned? Have one thing that matters. One goal, one prize. Anyone who gets in the way is the enemy. When you start to care about people, you get distracted. More than that, you get weak. And then you end up sabotaging the very things you swore meant the most. I’ve watched it happen. Hell, I cleaned it up. Relationships are messy. Someone’s strong, someone’s weak. It’s not worth it, and it sure as hell isn’t fair.” I considered my grandparents. “What if they don’t have to be a power struggle? What if it’s not about being equal? It’s not about each of you individually, but how you are together. “It’s like…” I glanced at my toes. “You mix red and yellow and you get orange. More red and less yellow just makes a different shade of orange, but it doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful. It still works.” Avery’s blue gaze searched mine. “You really think that’s true.” “I don’t know, but it’s better than spending your life alone, isn’t it? I mean, it gets lonely at the top. Maybe that’s what happened to Hollister. Maybe he wasn’t a selfish asshole. Maybe he just wanted someone.” His conflicted expression broke my heart.

Movement on the sidewalk caught my attention. I shifted to get a better look at the old woman holding the hand of a small girl with red hair. The girl tugged her back, squatting by a tree to point to something at the base. “I want to do something for her. To honor her. We were supposed to go on this New York trip, but now…” He shifted beside me, standing and holding out a hand. “I have an idea.”

27

WE’D HAVE FUN TRYING

“W

here should we do it?” “Staten Island Ferry.” “Hmmm. Something more

public.” “Radio City Music Hall.” “Meh. Wait. I’ve got it.” Twenty minutes later, I was in Central Park with the least likely person in the world. Avery strode alongside me, wearing tailored shorts and a polo and sunglasses. My flats padded lightly on the asphalt. “She told me stories about her and my grandfather coming here. I think they used to make out in the bushes,” I said as we made our way to the section call the Ramble. “It reminds me of Sleeping Beauty. Some princess in the castle in the

woods.” Avery glanced around. “You want to do it here?” “Yes.” I took out the box that contained some of my grandmother’s ashes. The rest I’d saved for my family, whenever I saw them next. This had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, I felt a little foolish. I cleared my throat. “Grams. You’ve been there when no one was.” I felt Avery’s gaze on me. “I’m not ready to let you go. And maybe you weren’t ready to leave. But we’re parting for now. Thank you. For being just what I needed, when I needed it.” I dumped the ashes I’d brought. I’m not sure what I’d expected—that they’d flutter down like fairy dust. The breeze did pick them up, sweeping some past us. Others coated the shrubs. “Hmm. Not as elegant as I’d expected, but I think she’d appreciate the sentiment. Is this even legal?” I mused. “Absolutely not.” Avery put an arm around my shoulders as we walked back through the park. “This was a really good idea. Thank you.” “You already had the trip booked.” “I’d cancelled the hotel. And I can tell you it wasn’t the Ritz-Carlton.” He’d reserved the place

without asking and had ignored my protests when I found out. For once, I was grateful for his highhandedness. “Are you sure this isn’t coming out of Kenna’s tuition?” “We’re good. You’re not the only one with some savings in the freezer.” When Avery had suggested last weekend on my fire escape that we keep the trip, I’d thought he was crazy. But I’d called the airline, and, given the situation, they were willing to transfer the ticket. Avery and I’d spent the morning wandering around Manhattan looking for just the right spot. It had felt good to carry her around. Almost like she was there with us. “You almost done in the bathroom?” he hollered through the door after we’d made our way back to the hotel. I turned off the dryer. “Almost. You can’t rush this.” “The show starts in an hour.” “Have you ever known me to be late?” “Yes.” I opened the door to find him facing the other way. My hand still on the door, I waited for him to turn around. It was worth it. Avery’s handsome face froze. It looked like he’d choked on something, and I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my mouth.

“I’m going to hell,” he pronounced. “Why?” “Because this trip is about your grandmother, but I’m not thinking about her right now.” The dress was the color of red apples. It had wide straps and was scooped at the neck. My nude strappy heels made my legs look longer, and my curls had been straightened and pulled back into a high ponytail. I trailed a hand down his chest. Avery wore a crisp linen suit that made him look like a royal on vacation. I forced my gaze to him. “Hey. I want to thank you. For this weekend.” “You’re welcome.” “Oh. This wasn’t the thank you. I was just introducing the topic. I’m thanking you after the show. Explicitly.” I leaned in and grazed my mouth over his ear. “Damn it. You sure we need to see this Kinky Boots thing?” “Yes.” We managed to get to Times Square and into the theater. We talked the whole time, falling into the easy rhythm we’d seemed to have found lately. At the theater he held the door for me and gave me his jacket when I was cold. By the end we trailed out, laughing. “You seriously liked it,” I questioned. “You

didn’t just want to score points so you can get in my…boots?” I teased as we set off down FortySecond Street. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m getting inside you later.” “Good thing you’re cute.” I snuck a look out the corner of my eye. “Look at us. Here in the big city. We should commemorate it.” An idea struck me. “Wait here.” I ran into a tourist shop and bought a red and white ball cap that said “I Love New York” on the front. I stuck it on Avery’s head. He stared back at me. “So what was really in that G&T you ordered back at the theater?” “Don’t move. I’ll be back in five minutes. Ten max.” “Charlotte…” “Trust me!” I dashed into the hotel at the edge of the street. With a ten-dollar bribe that turned into twentynine when I explained my request to the clerk, I got two minutes on a west-facing balcony in the empty penthouse. “Where the hell were you? I was starting to think you’d abandoned me,” Avery griped when I returned a few minutes later. “Oh, it’s worth it. Look!” I showed him the picture with the crowd. “It’s like Where’s Waldo. Only it’s you.” He studied the picture for a

moment, then his attention turned to me. “Did you find you? Oh, come on. Don’t give up. You have to —” My voice was cut off when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. The only thing better than kissing Avery? Kissing Avery in Times Square, surrounded by bright lights and chirping crowds and the feeling that anything is possible. The last week had been an emotional rollercoaster, but this? Being here with him? It felt right. “So let’s hear this thank you,” he said when we returned to our hotel half an hour later. “Sure. It actually has two parts.” I produced a box from my luggage and unpacked it on the kingsized bed. “What the hell is… Poker?” Avery frowned. “You got dressed like that to play poker?” I grinned. “We’re playing strip poker.” Avery’s gaze went hungry again, and he looked down my body. Taking in my one-piece dress and lack of shoes. A cocky grin pulled at his mouth. “Duchess, you’re going to lose.” “We’ll see about that.” I dealt out the cards and we played the first hand. He lost and stripped off his shirt. The next hand, I took off my dress. Underneath I had a slip.

Next went his pants. My second slip, which I’d put on for exactly this reason. His sock. And the other one (which I’d argued were one item). The next hand I lost. Avery studied me. “You can’t have fit another damn thing under that hot as fuck dress. Let’s see it, Merriweather.” I rose from the bed and pulled the slip over my head. His gaze devoured me as I stood in my orange lace bra and panties. I’d bought them this week thinking of him. “This, right here.” He swallowed. “This might be worth everything you’ve ever done to me.” He lost the next hand. He almost didn’t play it, he was so busy scanning the rise of my breasts over the bra, flicking to the silk between my thighs. “I’m waiting, Waldo.” Avery’s finger hitched in the top of his boxer briefs. With a disgruntled sigh, he tugged them off. “You’re a dangerous woman.” But my attention was lost on his cock, which was already lengthening between us. “Is this what the fancy hotel’s for?” I managed. “Do you do this for all the girls?” “I’ve never taken a girl away.” I pressed a hand to his chest, holding him back. “Not even for one night?” He shook his head, casting shadows over

features that were as familiar as my own. “You make me want things I never I thought I wanted.” His simple words had my chest tingling. He dropped kisses down my body, starting with my mouth. “Like someone to fight with.” My collarbone. “Someone to kiss.” My nipples. “Someone to laugh with.” My stomach. “Someone to play with.” Between my thighs, making me arch off the bed. “All of it. Not a day goes by that I don’t want those things with you.” His words affected me, but more than that, it was his expression. Startlingly earnest. I needed to be closer to him, and I reached out a hand to stroke down the side of his face. He turned his mouth into my palm, and that little move had me shaking. “Avery…” “I don’t want to stop.” The urgency in his voice set me back. “What do you mean?” “We said that when you left next week, it’d be over. I don’t want that.” I swallowed. “Me either. But what about the

fact that you don’t do relationships?” “Maybe there’s something to what you said. Compromise. Harmony. Not tension.” I breathy laugh escaped me. “You think we can make orange?” “I think we’d have fun trying.” Pleasure flooded me that had nothing to do with the way we touched. He reached for a condom on the bedside table, and I took it out of his hand. Confusion crossed his face as I dropped it, wrapped, off the side of the bed. “No.” “Are you serious?” His voice was tight, like he knew what he wanted me to answer be but was afraid to count on it. I nodded. Avery let out a groan. His gaze roamed my body, lingering on every curve on display for him. Just for him. “You have no idea how cool I was going to be tonight,” he murmured. “Oh really?” “Uh-huh. Leverage the nice hotel bit. I was going to make you scream. But the idea of being inside you, bare… I can’t make any promises anymore.” I grinned. “I understand.” He hitched one of my legs over his shoulder,

then the other. His cock brushing my entrance had me moaning. “Come on,” I insisted, “don’t tease me.” When he rocked his hips against me, filling me, I sighed his name. There wasn’t room for anything else. No doubt, no questions. He took me over, without making me any less myself. He made me want to be myself. “Fuck, Charlotte.” Avery’s eyes fell shut, and he ran his mouth along my calf. “I think you were made for me, Duchess. I might be ruined for anyone else.” It was a joke, but the seriousness in his gaze had my heart turning over. He stroked into me, building me higher and higher. The lights blurred together until my fingers were digging into his forearms. We panted, our hearts tripping. When we were finished, we curled up in bed. I lay my head on his chest, the light dusting of hair tickling my face. “I guess I’ll have to postpone my date with that lumberjack while we play this out.” “Excuse me?” “Mhmm. Big, giant guy.” In a lightning-fast move, he’d sat up and flipped me over his knee. “You’re not going anywhere near that guy.” His hand found my ass and I yelped. “I made him up!”

“Swear it,” he threatened. His palm came down again. This time I could only giggle. “I—swear—” “So much for inspiring fear. How will my employees ever respect me as a director?” “I’m sorry,” I managed between convulsions, rolling off his knee and landing on my back. “But you’re not scary.” “Everyone else thinks I am.” “But they don’t know you like I do.” Avery stared me down, the humor fading and replaced with an expression that had my breath catching. “No. I guess they don’t.” The giddy feeling that took me over wouldn’t be denied. “We need to celebrate. You’ll get your promotion this week, I’ll have Trevor and my stapler gone by Friday—” “No stapler.” “—and Saturday we can celebrate freedom. Being normal.” “That sounds great. But maybe not Saturday. I have to work.” “Then Sunday,” I decided. He paused. “How’s the job search going?” I bit my lip. “The thing is, I was thinking about what you said, about figuring out what I want and going for it. But the last time I applied to anything, I got a bunch of doors slammed in my face when I couldn’t name the college I graduated from.”

“So don’t let them close the door.” “Easy for you to say.” He shifted up to look at me. “Charlotte, I went to school for a long damned time. I hardly use any of that in my day-to-day work. You know what that means?” “You wasted more time and money than most people will ever have?” Avery tugged me onto my side so he could slap my ass again. I yelped. “No. It means what makes me capable of doing my job isn’t the years I spent sitting in lectures. It’s what I did with it. It’s determination and grit and getting up every time you get knocked down.” I shifted up onto my hip, staring down at him. “So why is it so important that Kenna stays in school?” Avery shifted to fold his hands behind his head. I tried not to be distracted by the lines of his chest, his abs, and…yeah. “Because the real reason isn’t that she wants to drop out. She wants to be a social worker, and she needs a degree for that. She thinks I do too much for her, and she wants to stop costing me money. I don’t know how to tell her it’s fine. There aren’t a lot of things I care about in this world as much as her future.” My heart expanded in my chest. “OK. Maybe we can have a talk. Woman to woman. But no guarantees.”

“Yeah? Great.” He reached an arm around me, tugging me down onto his chest. “Wait. What’s woman to woman talk? Is that about…” “Go on, say it.” “Tampons?” “Yes. That is always the first topic of conversation between twenty-first century women. Advances in menstrual protection.” I shook my head as my fingers played with his hair. “I can’t even handle you sometimes.” “Then I’d better hurry up and fuck you again.” “That would be wise.” He flipped me over, and words were forgotten. But for the first time in a long time, in a strange city, I felt like I was home.

28

I CAN’T BELIEVE WE MADE THAT

“T

hought I might find you here.” Kenna looked up from her seat in the auditorium on the college campus. “Charlotte! I thought you and my brother were in New York.” “We got back yesterday.” I settled into the seat next to her and put my leopard-print heels up on the seat in front of me. I glanced to the front of the room. “This class looks cool. I thought you’d finished school for the year.” “I’m taking a summer course to get ahead. I’ll be done by the time I go to camp. But who knows, I might not come back. There’re a lot of things you can do without college.” Kenna’s smile faded and suspicion edged in. “So you just came by to…hang

out.” “Right.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a cookie. “Want some? This guy at work makes chocolate chip that’ll curl your toes.” She reached out and broke off a piece. “You’re really not here to talk me into staying in school?” “Nope. I’ve never been in school. I don’t know what you’d be missing out on. What is this, by the way?” She nodded to the front of the room, where the professor stood. “Today we’re continuing our conversation on evolving gender roles in the workplace,” the woman started. “Women’s studies,” Kenna whispered. I tuned into the lecture for a few minutes. I didn’t realize I’d gotten sucked in until Kenna nudged me with an elbow. “Got any more cookies?” I passed her the bag without taking my gaze from the front of the room. “Are you seriously that interested in this lecture?” she demanded. “If you’d ever worked at Alliance, you’d see how true all of this is. There are people who don’t think they can do what men can. More people need to hear this. Is this like your other classes?” “Yes and no. They’re all ‘read these text books from dead people.’” She passed me a psychology

text. I flipped through the pages. “And it’s all garbage that has no link to real life. You’d rather be camping.” “Not garbage. I mean, social psychology makes a lot of sense. You can apply it when you talk to people.” “Hmm.” I pretended to read. “Avery says you want to be a social worker.” “Yeah. I want to help people.” I scanned one of the paragraphs. “This would definitely help.” I glanced up when people started to make noise around us. “Yup. Come on, nerd. Class is over.” Kenna shifted out of her chair and started piling books into her bag. “You can totally sit in on these classes if you like them so much. It’s called auditing.” “You can just sit in.” “Well, you’re not supposed to. But first- and second-year courses are so big, they’d never know. You could pass for a student. If you don’t mind bending a rule or two.” I smiled. “Kenna. Doll. I was bending rules while you were in diapers.” We filed out of the row and took the stairs down. “So you’re coming Saturday, right?” she asked as we reached the door of the class. “Saturday.”

“To celebrate. I know Avery’s really superstitious about this promotion, but assuming he gets it… We’re going to an amazing restaurant. Uncle A’s springing for it.” “Um. Right.” Maybe he’d forgotten to tell me. Or maybe because he’s still holding you at a distance. You’re not his girlfriend—you’re a woman who’s about to be unemployed. Living off Grams’ life insurance. I hated the doubt that worked its way into my gut. But I couldn’t keep it out.

“Hey, Charlie. Got a sec?” I shifted back in my seat to see Mallory leaning over the edge of my cubicle. “Sure. If you want an update on the wrap-up, I’ve revised the spreadsheet. Donor thank-yous got mailed yesterday. And I have cards for the comic and the venue to go out soon.” Mallory shook her head. “Yeah, that’s not why I’m here. I have something you might be interested in.” She held a sheet of paper in front of my face, and I squinted. “Wait. A job posting?” “In comms. I know we didn’t hit it off at first, but you did a great job on the gala. We women have to stick together around here. It’s contract,

but will probably turn into permanent. Mostly it’s event support and…” she trailed off as I stared up at her. “Why are you showing me?” “Because you should apply.” Her phone beeped and she glanced down at it. “I have to get this.” “No problem,” I mumbled as Mallory scooted off. Me as a legit communications person. I stared at it over lunch. And that afternoon. And during my break. “Hey, Charlie. You OK?” Payton hovered over my desk. “Yeah. I’ve just been thinking about something.” I followed her into her office. “Mallory said I’d be perfect for this job. What do you think?” “Wow. I didn’t picture you staying at Alliance, but if it’s what you want…” I turned away. “It’s not what I pictured, but maybe it’s better. You think I could do it?” “Oh for fuck’s sake, Charlie.” “What!” I protested, turning back. My friend’s hand clasped the couch arm, and her normally flushed face was pale. “No, I just had this pain in my side.” In two seconds I had my arm around her. I scanned her pale face, the way her shoulders slumped. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Payton. I’m in a meeting, can I call you back?” Max’s voice came down the line. “It’s Charlie and no, you can’t call me back. Get your ass to the hospital.” Fear replaced irritation in his tone. “What’s wrong?” Noises in the background told me he was moving, and a door slammed. “I don’t know. She’s been having cramps and then she was in all this pain. Just get over here.” I stepped back into the room where nurses worked on either side of a pale Payton. She looked too small in that hospital bed. “What are you doing?” I demanded, wedging in. One of them had Payton’s sleeve up above her elbow and was wiping her skin with a cotton ball. “We’re running tests to assess her hormone levels. And we’ll do an ultrasound, even though it’s early for that.” I knew what they were saying without them saying it. They needed to see if something had happened to the baby. My friend’s glazed eyes found mine. “It’s going to be fine, honey,” I said, taking her hand. She nodded tightly. “Max?” “He’s on his way.” The nurses worked around her, an ultrasound

tech joining a few minutes later. They’d just put the goop on her stomach when Max burst in the door. His dark expression was filled with an intensity I’d never seen. “It took forever for them to find you in the directory,” he panted. “It’s like they’ve never used a damn computer in this place.” I dropped Payton’s hand, letting him take my place at her side. “It’s fine. Probably just my stomach complaining about the lack of watermelon slushies lately.” Max looked toward the screen and froze. “Holy shit.” Payton followed his gaze, the corner of her mouth twitching up for the first time since we’d gotten to the hospital. “Whoa. Is that…?” “That’s your baby,” the tech confirmed. “It’s about two inches long right now.” “It’s moving,” Max said. His tone was awestruck. “That’s right. At ten weeks they’re starting to kick their limbs. It’s probably too soon to tell if it’s a boy or a girl.” “But it’s a person.” The tech smiled. “It is a person. And we’ll wait on blood tests, but everything looks good from here. Its heart rate is normal.” “Thank fuck. Wait.” He paled. “Can it hear me

swear? Am I scarring it?” “You’re probably safe.” He turned to Payton, smoothing a piece of hair away from her face. “I can’t believe we made that. You’re unbelievable, Coyote. I’m sorry I suck at this. It’s been…unexpected. But you know how much I love you. Nothing we could do would ever disappoint me.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. The other. Her forehead. She reached for him and pulled his mouth to hers. Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I turned for the door, wanting to give them privacy. Max’s voice stopped me. “Hey, Charlie. Thanks.” I managed a half-smile before making my way out into the hall. People bustled past on the worn linoleum. I strolled down the hall. I’d been that girl once. Pregnant, feeling alone. That experience had been enough to make me want to write off guys for a long time. But it didn’t have to end like me and Derek. There were people like Payton and Max, who went through hard times and still found their way back to each other. Avery was the first person who’d given me an indication I could have it. Neither of us was looking for it, but we’d seen something.

Maybe there was hope for me yet. For all of us.

29

THIS IS DEFINITELY YOURS

I

barreled into Avery’s office the next day, teetering on my heels. He glanced up from his desk. I pulled the door most of the way closed after me, crossing to him. “Hello, Charlotte,” he said. The stiffness in his tone surprised me. “Hey, I… Oh. I thought you were alone.” I noticed too late that his uncle was in the other chair. “I was leaving,” Armand said, shifting from his chair. He shot me an unreadable look as he left. I watched him go, then shut the door. “I’ve hardly seen you all morning,” Avery said when I turned back. “Payton OK?” And like that, the weirdness evaporated. I shook it off.

“Yeah. She’s out of the hospital. They told her to take it easy today, though.” “Good. You left something at my place last night.” Avery tugged a scrap of lace out of his breast pocket. “I thought they might calm your nerves. Like a sexy security blanket before your meeting today.” His mouth twitched at the corner. “Thanks.” Last night had been the first time I’d fallen asleep at his place. Waking up with Avery in the morning had left a funny feeling in my chest. Like this was where we were supposed to be. I hadn’t asked about the party because I wanted to give him time. And deep down I knew this was going to work out. “How are you feeling about your meeting?” “In six hours, this day will be done, and I’m getting you alone at my place with a bottle of champagne,” Avery pronounced. “You want to drink bubbly?” “I’m going to pour it on you and lick it off.” His dark blue jacket matched his eyes, the shirt and tie a few shades lighter. Ones I’d picked out myself. The smile pulled at my mouth without permission. I shook off the Avery-induced haze and reminded myself why I was here. Excitement bubbled up. “I have some good news too. I was going to try and save it until after

your meeting, but…I can’t.” “What is it?” “I got a job.” His face cracked into a grin. “What? That’s fantastic. Where’s the lucky company?” “Here.” The smile faded. “I don’t understand.” “Mallory’s hiring for someone in comms. She knows I don’t have the background, but the way the gala went down convinced her I could be the right person. I wouldn’t even have to move floors.” Part of me wanted to close the distance between us, but the expression on his face wasn’t any version of the warm and fuzzy from last night. This morning. “And you want to apply.” His voice was cautious. Level. “I already did apply.” The smile on my face faded. “Come on. Say something.” Avery blew out a breath, tapping a finger on the desk. “Is this a joke?” Hurt stabbed through me. “No, it’s not a joke. I can do that job. I’ve been doing it.” “It’s not about whether you can do the job. You don’t want to stay here.” “I didn’t think so either, but it would be kind of perfect. I mean, we’d still get to see each other, and —” “It’s not a good idea.”

The edge in his voice had me bristling. “Why not? You told me to figure out what I wanted.” None of this was going the way I’d pictured it. He was supposed to be happy about it. We’d have a way to come out, and it wouldn’t be strange that we were dating. “Avery. You wouldn’t be my boss. We could be open about the fact that we’re dating.” The dark shadow crossing his face filled me with worry. “It’s not that easy.” “Why not?” “People will think you got the job because of me.” “That’s sexist. And I don’t care what people think.” My voice trailed off as I studied him. “But you do.” “What are you talking about.” “I mean you’re going in for your promotion and you don’t want to have to tell everyone you’re dating your assistant. The way you were when your uncle was here…you have no intention of telling him.” “Charlotte…” I rounded the desk. “I know you have a dinner planned on Saturday. To celebrate. Kenna told me about it, and I thought you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to jinx it. But that’s not it, is it?” The look on his face broke my heart. “I want to be with you.”

“Tonight. Naked. With champagne. But not tomorrow, dressed up, with people who matter. Not the woman who doesn’t know what she’s going to do for work in another week. The one who gets free shoes and keeps her savings in the freezer.” Avery reached up to rub a hand over his face. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. The power struggle.” “It’s not a struggle, it’s a conversation. Not getting your way doesn’t mean we have to fight.” I swallowed the shock of his reaction and replaced it with ice. “Besides, I already applied for the job.” Avery’s nostril’s flared. “Charlotte. I don’t do well with ultimatums.” “It’s not an ultimatum. I wanted to let you know. I thought you’d be happy.” He crossed to the door, his hand resting on the handle. “This promotion’s everything I’ve worked for. Coming out with ‘I’ve been screwing my assistant for weeks’ isn’t the best way to acknowledge it. Especially after our last CEO was dismissed for leaking confidential information. Now we’ll discuss this later.” Anger and hurt warred inside me until I couldn’t tell where one started and the other stopped. Because this came first for him. It always would, I realized. Some of us might have a shot at balancing priorities, but if he saw me as a threat to

his work…it was no better than the day he’d fired me. “I’m not your assistant anymore, Avery. And you’re not my boss.” “We’ll discuss this later.” The finality in his tone rocked through me, even before he opened the door. It was his this is my decision voice. The one he used with people who dared to mess up his day. I stared at him. The man I cared about. The one I’d been falling for longer than I was willing to admit. “You know what? Let’s not.” I stomped through the door and slammed it after me. “Charlie, where are you going?” Rose called, rising from her seat and sticking her head over her cubicle. I stalked to the photocopier room and grabbed a box, returning to my desk. “He’s all yours,” I told a startled Rose as I piled things into my box. “I’m done with this. All of it.” She trailed me to the elevator, holding the door as I piled on with my things. Trevor was tucked precariously inside the top edge of the box. “What happened?” I hit the button. “Men are entirely predictable. That’s what happened.” I stalked out of the elevator and down the hall to HR, stopping in front of the desk.

“Here’s my employee ID.” I set it on the counter. The man on the other side looked at me in confusion. Something vibrated in my pocket. “Oh, and this.” I slammed my corporate phone down. The text notifications from Avery lit up the screen, but I silenced them. I looted through my box, pulling out one last item. “This. This is definitely yours.” The stapler clattered on the desk top.

30

BANKS ARE EVIL

T

he universe has a way of kicking you in the teeth. Leaving you on the ground, counting your breaths. After leaving Alliance, I took my box to the park across the road and dropped under a tree, contemplating my fate. All I could think about was Avery’s expression when I’d told him about the job. Like it was the worst thing in the history of the world. War. Disease. The girl you share your bed with working down the hall. With every torturous replay of the scene in my head, a part of me died. Not the peaceful kind of death. The painful

kind. I wanted to curl up in a ball until everyone forgot about me. I didn’t have anything to do, anywhere to be, anyone who’d miss me right now. When a passing businessman dropped a dollar in my box, I forced myself to move. At home, I fished in a drawer for the dusty personal cell phone I hadn’t touched in a year. The idea of staying unconnected was appealing, but eventually I plugged it in to charge. When it had enough juice to light up, I sent off a text to Payton to let her know I was at this number if she needed me. Then I lifted Trevor out of the box and took him out to the fire escape. I dropped onto the metal, kicking my feet over the edge. I glanced toward Trevor, who looked dry, shriveled, hopeless. Solidarity. Alone, I could admit it to myself: I’d been a moron. I knew better than to trust my heart to a guy. And why the hell had I picked that one? When it got dark, I tried to watch the sushi documentary I’d been meaning to check out for the last month. Nothing penetrated my brain. I fell into a disturbed sleep, dreaming I was born into a family of sushi rolls, and I’d been the roll without any rice. I woke up on the couch the next morning to the phone buzzing.

“Why are you using this phone?” Payton asked. My head pounded. I closed the blinds I’d forgotten to close last night. “Because Banks are evil.” “Banks like Alliance or Banks like Avery?” I considered. “Exactly.” “Back up—what happened?” I thought about sitting up. Erred on the side of caution, pulling my knees to my chest instead. “I told him about the job in communications. He told me not to bother. Because I can’t work at Alliance, and I’m never going to be his girlfriend.” A pause. “That’s what he said.” “Not in so many words.” “I’m coming over.” “No. I need to be alone. I’m going to lie on the couch and contemplate the error of my ways.” “And when that’s done?” “Gin.” Silence came down the line. I waited a minute. Two. “Hello?” I hung up with a shrug. A while later, pounding on the door drew me downstairs. My feet padded slowly down the steps like every one cost me. The sun had me wincing when I pulled back the door. Payton’s bright face was on the other side, and she held out a bakery box. “Chocolate chip. Better than booze.” “Lies.” I wanted to send her away but couldn’t

help asking, “How are you?” “I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” “You don’t want to come in. I’m not good company today.” She shook her head. “I’m not going in. You’re coming out.” I craned my neck to look at the sky outside. I felt like a vampire. “But it’s sunny.” “Don’t fight with a pregnant chick. You’re going to lose.” It was that reminder that had me pulling on flipflops to go with my sweatpants and tank top. “You sure you’re well enough to be out?” I asked her. “Yep. I’m going back to work tomorrow.” “And Max?” Payton sighed as she started down the street, box in hand. “He’s good. We’re good.” “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.” “And you don’t?” “Apparently I deserve to fall for men who are unattainable. Correction: they’re attainable by my vagina. It’s the rest of me that’s not enough.” We approached the door of her compact car. I slid into the passenger seat as she started the engine. I glared at the pedestrians we passed. I made eye contact with a toddler, who quickly grabbed onto his mother’s leg in worry.

She glanced over, like she was afraid I’d dive out the window. “Charlie, I’m so sorry. It sounds like he could’ve handled it better. That is kind of Avery’s tagline. ‘Could’ve handled that better.’” “I’m never waiting around for a man again. I swore to myself I’d never do that, never be that girl again. But with the insurance money, I could do anything. Fly somewhere new.” She refused to tell me where we were going as she drove through the light Saturday traffic. We parked across town and slid out of the car. “The Mary Baker Eddy Library,” I read off the sign. “You think my life’s purpose is books?” Payton led the way into the building. The “library” looked more like a museum, and I felt an odd suspicion my depression couldn’t entirely dull as we swept inside the revolving doors and ascended the stairs from what looked like a gift shop. A few minutes later I stepped through a door into a riot of color. The rainbow assaulted my brain. Reds and greens and blues, all around us, reflecting light from some unseen source. The catwalk we stood on cut through the middle of a stained glass globe. We were in the heart of the world. At least, it felt that way. The rich primary colors filled countries, oceans. “I used to come here with my mom sometimes. You’ve never heard of the Mapparium?”

I shook my head, which was hard when I was craning my neck to look at the ceiling. “It was built in the thirties as a symbol of global outreach. But I always liked how it made me feel small and big at the same time. Like the world was at my fingers.” “What are we doing here?” “You said you wanted to get out and find something of your own. Here’s the world. Where do you want to go?” I inspected the globe. “I could get a job in Europe. Or work for some designer in Paris. Or on a farm in Australia. With sheep. Sheep don’t fuck with your emotions.” Her hazel eyes looked dark surrounded by the brightness of the globe. “It would be that easy to leave.” Despite my current state of numbness, my gut twisted. “I love you, Payton. But sometimes I look at you and I see everything you’ve done. You’re so damn good at your work. You have a guy who worships you. A mom you’d do anything for. Hell, you’re growing a human being in there.” I gestured to her stomach. “And if that reunion the other day was any indication, that little bean is going to be loved.” “It took a while to get there. Max wasn’t ready, and neither was I. But he came around to it. I had to give him a chance. Sometimes we all need time.”

I took a few more steps down the walkway, leaving behind Australia and closing in on Europe. Its vivid reds, blues, and greens should’ve lifted my spirits. They didn’t. “Payton, in the end it’s time that gets us. It’s not the fighting, or the conflict. It’s the waiting for something that will never happen.”

I spent another day in my house watching TV that didn’t matter. By Monday, I couldn’t do it. I needed something. I felt like a zombie among the living as I took transit across town, dissolving into the crowd in my denim and tank top. I tucked into the back of the classroom. My hair was up under a baseball cap I’d had buried from when I was a kid. No one would recognize me. I didn’t recognize me. The women’s studies professor lectured about the psychology of women. How women have a greater need to feel connected. “Men learn that their value is in their agency. Their ability to take charge, control, win, achieve. In relationships, most men want to be valued for who they are—but they may not say this outright.” Someone tapped me on the shoulder at the end of class. “Charlie.” I sucked in a breath as I looked up into a set of brown eyes. “Kenna.”

She flicked the brim of my hat. “This is you incognito?” She glanced around, and I followed her gaze. “There are six guys in this class. And they’re all sitting within a row of you.” Kenna dropped into a seat next to me. “I’m auditing.” And I needed to get out. For once I wasn’t sure what to say. “My brother got his promotion. But he didn’t feel much like celebrating this weekend.” She said it under her breath, sliding her book into her book bag. “Which, though he didn’t say much, I figure had something to do with you.” She sighed. “I heard you guys had a fight.” “I don’t know what it was. But it was a sign. This was a bad idea. Your brother’s not the only one who isn’t cut out for relationships. I’m not either.” “Charlotte. Did you listen to anything today? Guys are wired differently. I’m nineteen and even I know that. Just because it isn’t easy doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.” I stared into her frustrated face. “You guys have the same ears,” I said finally. “I know. So?” “So I never saw the likeness between you until now.” I took a breath. “But here’s the thing. Your brother wants to be with me…until he has to tell anyone about it.” “You think he’s embarrassed about being seen

with you?” Her voice was incredulous. “Well…yeah.” “OK. If there are two things to know about my brother, it’s that he doesn’t like to lose face. And he doesn’t let people in easily. The first time he mentioned you was forever ago. Hell, I was still in high school.” “So what’s the problem?” “The problem is he’s waiting for it all to come crashing down. He half expects it. He’s not going to throw open the window and declare that you guys are together, because I don’t think he really believes it yet. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to.” My throat tightened. “I barely remember the fights between his dad and our mom. But he does. He’d read me stories with a flashlight when they were up until midnight or later. Play music to drown out their words. “The day his dad left he had to grow up, because Mom didn’t have her shit together.” Her sad smile broke my heart all over again. “If Avery’s broken now, it’s because he was strong for me.” “Nothing’s your fault, Kenna. And there are a lot of things I don’t know, but your brother would do anything for you. And he wants to. You bring him so much joy.” “If that’s true, I’m not the only one.” My heart squeezed.

She rose and I followed. “Will you talk to him?” I trailed her out of the classroom. “Yeah. Sure. The next time I see him.” “Great. Now’s your chance.” My walk slowed, then stopped as we exited the building. The form on his phone by the wall a few feet away was heartbreakingly familiar. He glanced up, and the knot in my chest tightened. Avery straightened. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll be in the car,” Kenna said to him, shooting me a look. I should’ve known that was too easy. “How does it feel to be the youngest director in the history of the company?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Not quite how I expected.” “Right. Avery…” “I stand by what I said. That it’s a bad idea for you to take the job with Mallory. But it’s not because I’m ashamed of you. Or because I don’t think you’re capable. If anything, it’s the opposite. You’re wasted there.” He studied me, waiting for a response. “I shouldn’t have brought that to you right before your meeting. But with you, I wanted things I hadn’t in a long time. And it was like I expected we’d flip a switch and be dating and everyone would know and be happy for us.” He blew out a breath. “It’ll take time.”

“You can have all the time you want. But I can’t wait around for you to decide. I’ve been someone’s dirty secret, Avery. I’ve been with a man who wanted me when it was easy. It nearly killed me.” I swallowed. “But when I ran away to Boston… I know it was five years ago. But sometimes it feels fresh. Derek convinced me we were going to be together, and…” I shook my head as if I could shake it all away. “It ripped me in half, Avery. Because I waited for years.” “You can’t honestly think I’m like him.” “You’re smart. You’re good-looking. Educated.” Pain flashed across Avery’s face. “I’d have done anything for him, just like I’d do anything for you. And that’s the problem.” “I’d never ask you to do something you shouldn’t.” “But you don’t know what’s best for me. And I don’t have the strength to say no.” I took a steadying breath. “So what do we do.” “I think you were right that I need to figure out what I want to be. Who I want to be. And I can’t wait around for someone else to tell me who I can be.” “And you can’t figure that out with me.” “I can’t.” I realized as I said the words that they were true.

The frustration on his face, the anguish, tore at my heart even as he nodded. “OK. But promise me something. When you figure it out…let me know.” I sucked in a breath, peering up at his handsome face. “You’ll be the first.” He pulled me into a hug that had me desperate to take it back. To beg him to take me home with him, to make everything go away. But I had to be strong. Not just to survive, not just for the person I was, but for the person I could be. Avery let me go after a minute, and with a trembling smile, I turned away.

31

LITTLE STEPS

W

here do you start when you’re trying to figure out your life? One of my favorite blogs says

cleaning. It seems a little pat. But what the hell. Here’s the thing about cardboard boxes. They’re great for holding things. But they’re generic. Sterile. They can hide their contents. You don’t know if what’s inside is a stack of boring papers. Or… A Rockettes costume. I used a kitchen knife to cut through the tape on the first and pulled back the cardboard. Clothes. Sweaters, pants. Dresses. My grandmother’d had a hell of a sense of style, even in her later years. Jewelry was at the bottom. She’d insisted on the

pearl earrings every day. I made a pile on the couch of clothes that could be donated. The little jewelry box I put in my room. I wanted to keep it as a memory of her. I took a breath. That wasn’t so bad. For the first time since seeing Avery the day before, I felt a hint of something. I couldn’t name the feeling, but it was something other than numbness. Other than questioning whether I’d done the right thing by keeping him at bay. The second box contained photos. Ones of her and of my grandfather. Even ones of my mom. Some of me and my brothers as kids. Matt and Jimmy and me sitting on a log by the water. Me missing my front teeth, Jimmy sticking out his tongue at me. Matt holding up a fish he’d caught in the pond, ignoring both of us. Next were newspaper clippings of her with the Rockettes. Then there were photos of me. Dance recitals. Recent ones of me visiting her in the retirement home. Those were on the bottom instead of the top, as if they weren’t her favorites. When I got to the bottom, my chest collapsed. The envelope was addressed to me. A photo and a lined sheet of paper fell out. The photo was of me and my grandparents a couple years after I’d first come to Boston. We were at

Boston Common, and I was smiling for the first time in a long time. I set the photo gently on the table in front of me, then turned the letter over in my fingers. Charlie, I remember the little girl who came to live with us after running away from home. What a resilient, beautiful woman you’ve become. I know you’ve had a difficult path. But people with difficult paths are the most interesting. It saddens me that I won’t be there to see all of yours, but I know you’ll make the best of everything that comes your way. If you could remember one thing I’ve told you… Don’t hide from your mistakes. Don’t run from the things that scare you. Your regrets and your fears are part of you. The only way to move forward is to know yourself. To be proud of who you are, no matter what you came from. It’s not always easy, but little steps add up. You’ve brought more joy to all of us than you could ever know. Love forever,

Grandma G.

I shifted back on the couch, my chest expanding like I’d run up ten flights of stairs. As stupid as it sounded, I swore I could feel her there with me. Fuck, I wished she was there. I read it again. And a third time for luck. One by one, I took the magnets off my fridge and the pictures of nail art, celebrities, and dirty jokes with them. I put the letter square in the middle. Surrounding it, I put the pictures from her box. I crossed to the fire escape, looking through the window. On impulse I lifted the sill and reached for Trevor’s lightweight pot. I brought it to the kitchen and held it under the running water for a moment before setting it on the counter. My fingers reached for the blue envelope leaning against the wall. Just holding it in my hand felt brave. Little steps. I opened it. That felt even braver.

32

I DON’T WANT TO BE THE ROCK

“W

hich of these says, ‘I’m over you all but I’m not a total bitch’?” I held up the red dress and the

coral dress. “Since when do you care?” Payton mused. “True.” I tossed them both on the cash register and handed over my credit card. The dresses were on sale, and I’d just gotten an offer from a footwear store to do guest blogs on their site. I hadn’t touched my gram’s life insurance except to pay the expenses on her estate, and I didn’t want to. “I’m proud you’re going to this wedding, Charlie. It’s ballsy.” “Yeah, well. It’s part of the new Charlie. Plus, I need to go and say something embarrassing. Get

Jimmy back for the time he and his friends snuck into junior prom and spiked the punch with ipecac.” “Well, I should get back to work,” Payton said as I took my card back from the cashier. “I have a ton of appointments this afternoon. Seems like things are settling down after all the Hollister media circus. We also have an information session on Avery’s program tomorrow. It’s getting rolled out.” “That’s great.” “Redpath certainly seems to think so. He keeps talking about growing corporate banking. You and Avery never talk, huh?” I took the bag from the cashier and turned for the door. “It’s only been a couple weeks. It feels soon.” “But you’re looking for jobs. And you’re going to classes.” I nodded. I’d signed up to audit a couple of summer classes at the college, including the women’s studies one Kenna was in and another in communications. I’d even paid for them. “If there’s one thing spending five hours a week with bright-eyed nineteen-year-olds has taught me, it’s ambition. These kids see their whole lives ahead of them, and it’s contagious. I want to find something I’m excited to get up for in the morning. Surviving’s not enough.” “Oh! Before I forget.” Payton opened her massive shoulder bag and pulled out a bottle of

wine. “Rose said you left this in your desk. She didn’t want you to be without it.” I laughed. “It’s not mine. But I can make sure it gets where it’s going.” I peeled off the note taped to it. Wasn’t sure what this was for but figured you’d know. Things are good here, but you’re missed. Avery’s a hardass. Not sure if you knew that. Being a director’s a learning curve, but he’s trying. Speaking of Avery…he asked me if you and I were friends. I told him we were, but I hadn’t seen you since you left. He said if I did, I should say hi. Naturally, I told him I would. So hi. The feeling in my chest was warm. I knew it wasn’t anything. Still… I’m going to take the liberty of telling him hi back.

I’m a romantic at heart, and I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other. So I’m pulling for you. Hugs, Rose PS – you know Martin in the cafeteria? He’s seriously cute. I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. Then pulled out my phone and rang my old extension. “Avery Banks’ office.” “You should,” I said, smiling as I put my sunglasses on. “Should what?” “Ask Martin out. He’s a rockstar. And tell Avery I say hi.” We made plans to meet up the following week, then I decided to walk the twenty minutes to LIVE. The heat wave had broken, and I’d put on a flowy blouse and a pencil skirt with flats that morning. “Hello?” I called as I stepped inside. No response. I wove my way toward the main room.

Mia’s sultry voice came over the microphone. “And that’s when I told him he could keep it.” She stood in jeans and a tank top on stage. “Hey. Am I interrupting?” “Nope. Just doing a soundcheck for tonight.” She knelt down and hopped off the stage, crossing to me. “I wanted to drop off this bottle of wine as a thank you. Better late than never, right?” “Oooh, company wine. I didn’t know I’d made that many fans. That mean I’m coming back next year?” “Not up to me. I’m not working at Alliance. But you might get a call from Geoffrey Siskinds, who owns a bazillion restaurants.” “First, that’s awesome. Second, what happened?” Mia asked as she took the card and bottle of wine from my hands. “Technically I got fired. A month ago. For pulling pranks. By the guy I ended up sleeping with. Dating. Whatever.” I shook my head. Her brown eyes sparked. “OK, now you have to tell me. I’ll open this.” She retreated to the bar, grabbing two glasses and a bottle opener, and brought them back to the stage. We hopped up on the edge, and I proceeded to tell her some of my highlight reel. Within five minutes she was laughing, a low, throaty sound. “I love your sense of humor,” she said. “We

have the same taste. But a lot of people don’t want to hear the truth. Especially from a woman. My parents are in the entertainment business, but they warned me against this. Said there’s not room for women in comedy, that every gig is harder, a career almost impossible. The success stories are so few and far between.” Passion surged up in me. “That’s bullshit, Mia. First, you should be selling out every night. Women have a different perspective on the world. On relationships, on work, on life. It’s only a matter of time before people see that.” “Yeah, well, our YouTube has a few thousand views.” “There are ways to change that.” “Like what?” I considered. “I can share it with fifty thousand people. That’s a start.” “Huh. My business partner and I are trying to hire a promoter. Hey Jack,” she hollered to a guy walking past with a cell in his ear. He tapped the phone, but she shook her head. “Let me call you back,” he said, hanging up. “What is it, Mi?” “How’s that promoter spot going?” “Interviewing tomorrow.” She looked at me. I forced my throat to swallow the gulp of wine in my mouth instead of choking on it.

“Promoting LIVE? Would you consider me?” “What’s your experience?” “If you mean can I make sure people notice you? That I can do.” He didn’t so much as blink. “Can you also do schedules? I’m up to my neck in coordinating the weekly events. Plus we have specials through here every few weeks. Bookings, private shit like the show you wanted.” I nodded. “Then come in for an interview tomorrow at one.”

“I have an emergency.” “What is it?” Payton demanded over the phone that night. “A job interview.” “You and I have different definitions of ‘emergency.’” I shoved my hand in my pocket to force myself to stop picking at the nails I’d just done. “Yeah, well, I really want this.” I told her the little bit about the gig I’d learned from Jack and Mia. “That sounds perfect for you. Do you want to roleplay?” “Payton, if this is some kind of kinky sex shit from the deranged brain of a pregnant lady, now’s really not the time.” “No, I mean role play your interview.”

“Oh! Yes. Let’s do it.” We talked for an hour. I was afraid to hang up, because this mattered. I wanted this. With the wanting came the fear. It reared its ugly head the next day as I brushed out my crazy hair. Put on some dangly earrings, boots over my leggings. When I showed up to meet Jack, I had a battle on my hands. I hoped to hell I looked composed. After twenty minutes of questions like “Why do you think you’d be a good fit” and “What’s your experience managing conflict,” he set down the stack of papers. “I’m sure there’re a lot more I’m supposed to ask. But I downloaded this questionnaire from the internet this morning. I’ve never hired someone other than a bartender or an accountant. I’ve been working on this place five years. Saved for it working other people’s bars for ten before that. It’s my heart and soul. Since I was a kid I wanted a club like this, worked my ass off for it. I need to know you’re going to take care of it.” I shifted on my stool and looked around the space. The beautiful wood bar. The stage, empty but full of potential. All of it sent a surge of excitement through me. “I spent the first eighteen years of my life making mistakes. Lots of them. Long story short, I told myself it was easier not to care about anything.

Anyone. But I’m starting to think I was wrong about that. “We had this pond down the road from our house growing up. My brothers and I used to skip rocks on it. It’d leave all these ripples, but moments later, the rock would sink to the bottom of the pond and the ripples would be gone.” “You don’t want to be the ripples.” “I don’t want to be the rock.” I reached for his clipboard and flipped it over. “I want to make a difference, Jack. I need that. Need somewhere I can build something. And I think that’s here.” He studied me for a long time. “Where can I call for a reference?”

“See you Gladys. Peter.” I waved goodbye to my class at the retirement home and packed up the boas and records. I’d been surprised and pleased when they’d called to ask if I was still going to come. So I still went once a week. I’d just brushed through the front doors when my phone rang. “Charlie. It’s Jack. Can you stop by?” I made my way over to the bar as fast as I could, nerves clawing in my stomach. Since my interview, I’d found myself thinking of ideas for the place. For special nights. Ways to attract new business. If only I’d brought those to the interview.

But it was too late. When I arrived, Jack wasn’t at the front, so I went into the back, calling his name. Stuck my head in what must’ve been his office but came up empty. “There you are.” I found him hauling boxes out of what looked like a big broom closet. He dusted his hands off on his jeans. “I heard from your reference this afternoon.” I forced a smile. Wiped away the sweat on my palms. “And?” “He had some strong opinions. He said you’re smart and resourceful. That you’re unpredictable but you’re better than anyone who can be controlled. That I should hide the cookies, whatever that means. That you care about the right things more than the rules, and that I should hire you twice if I got the chance.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “In short, it was high praise from some director at a bank.” “Sounds like it,” I said softly. Jack reached for a shelf in the closet. He pulled something off it and tossed it at me. I caught the black fabric and held up the t-shirt with white lettering on it. “LIVE” stared back at me. “This is the uniform?” “This is the signing bonus. Wear what you want. And this—” he pointed to the closet “—is your office. Gimme twenty-four hours to get it

cleaned out and get a desk in there for you. You need other stuff, you let me know and I’ll get it for you. Anything you do need?” “A desk lamp?” “I’ll get one tomorrow.” I followed him with my eyes as his disappeared into the back. I turned around the closet, my eyes landing on a poster that was crinkling at the edges. I smoothed over it with my fingers. It said “LIVE Grand Opening” and was dated five years ago. I’d been in a dark place five years ago, just when this place was being born. I could be part of this. Write myself a new story. Help Jack and Mia build something. The hope that’d been sparking inside me for the last couple of weeks expanded until it filled my chest. I’d read the letter from Grams nearly every day. I hadn’t known what it meant, but I’d had faith in the words. Because they were her words. Now, staring at the t-shirt in my hands, I got it.

33

CALCULATED RISK

“G

reat, I’ve got you booked for Wednesday. Glad you liked the social promos. Yeah, use them anytime you want. Need anything else, you let me know. Otherwise see you next week.” I stretched out my legs on the old desk in front of me that was already a mess of flyers, promotions, and posters. It helped to take the weight off my quilted Valentino pumps for a few minutes. My office might’ve been a broom closet, but it was mine. The only light came from a tiny window the size of a shoebox, but Trevor was on the corner of my desk. And he was green. The job was harder than I’d expected. I took

work home every day, and rarely did an hour pass when I wasn’t clueless about something. But I had a super power. I could figure shit out. And I could do it with a sense of humor. It was scary because if I didn’t figure it out, it mattered. It mattered to the talent. To Jack, who’d started this place from scratch. It felt good. I was living. But what I couldn’t say to Payton, Riley, and Rose on ladies’ night—what I wouldn’t admit to anyone—was that my heart still hurt when I went to bed alone. Woke up that way. I shifted out of my chair, adjusting the waist on my tight jeans with ripped knees before opening the door to the sound of laughter and supportive cheers. Open mic Mondays were the most popular on LIVE’s schedule, although I was planning to bring in bands Wednesday nights to break up the week. I grabbed a twelve-pack of beer from the back and hauled it toward the front. “You might be the best hire I’ve ever made.” Jack grinned his thanks as I dropped the case behind the bar. “I’m the only hire you’ve ever made,” I shot back, scanning the room. The crowd was thick, people here to shake off a Monday or convince their friends to try out new material. Payton, Max, and Riley occupied a table by the bar. I grabbed two bottles of beer and filled one

glass with soda, depositing them on the table. “Friends. You came.” Payton squealed and hugged me. “Of course! We needed to see your new workplace. I have to say, it’s way cooler than the old one.” “I told her she shouldn’t be in a bar,” Max griped. “Laughter’s good for fetal development,” Riley interrupted smoothly, reaching for his beer. “Pull up a chair,” Payton called. I did. “So, Avery was looking pretty chummy with someone today at the office. A girl. She was pretty. Younger.” My head snapped up. “He introduced her as his sister.” I sighed out a breath. “Kenna was at the office?” “I didn’t even know he had a sister.” Payton cocked her head. “You were jealous,” she accused, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I’m not jealous,” I grumbled. “I want him to be happy.” “Happy alone.” Riley raised a brow. “So you still have feelings for this guy.” They stared at me. “Yes. OK? Yes I still have feelings for him.” “So why aren’t you getting him back?” Riley quipped.

I shifted out of my chair. “Who says I’m not?” Riley grinned. Max shook his head. Payton gasped. “Charlie, what are you planning?” “Nope. My break’s over, back to work. I’ll catch you guys in a bit.” Payton groaned and Riley booed as I shoved out of my seat without giving them anything. “Another newbie,” Jack commented as I brushed past him. I glanced toward the front as the first guy came off the stage and another replaced him. The crowd gave the newcomer a round of cheers. Someone from the back shouted “Nice suit!” over the hearty applause as the guy settled in front of the microphone. I had to grab the edge of the bar for support. In my peripheral vision I saw Payton’s head whip around. Fuck. I said it in my head because I couldn’t form words. The man at the mic didn’t have the same problem. He cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around the stand. “Someone told me once that I have zero sense of humor.” “What’s that guy doing?” Riley mused. I folded my arms over my chest. “I have no idea.” “Thing is, I didn’t see it. I thought I had

everything I needed. The job I’d always wanted. People who listened to me. But life has a way of kicking you in the balls when you think you have it all figured out. “See, one day, in walked this girl.” He paused, and someone in the audience tittered nervously. “I thought she worked for me, but she didn’t act like it. She stalked into my life on these damned heels and carried off my heart. I didn’t notice because she was so busy tearing strips off my ego. I mean, the woman shrank my shorts, for God’s sake.” Someone laughed. “What kind of woman does that?” Avery muttered, as if to himself. “But maybe I’m the problem, because I fell for her. Before this woman, I didn’t give a shit who I walked on to get what I wanted. But she changed that. Made me believe in things I never thought I’d believe in.” The crowd watched, waited. Avery shoved a hand through his hair, and my chest ached. “And then…she left. She left, and all of a sudden everything I used to think was fine wasn’t fine. It’s still not. Which is why I’m here.” He lifted his chin, looking unseeing into the spotlights. “Charlotte? I hope to hell you’re working tonight, because otherwise this is going to be fucking

awkward.” “Charlie!” Payton hissed, slapping my ass. I blinked, stumbling forward through the tables in a haze. Every set of eyes in the room went to me. But I only cared about one. The recognition on his face when I appeared at the bottom of the stage had my heart stopping. I took the stairs up the side of the stage and stood before him while people started to murmur to each other in confusion. “You were supposed to wait. Kenna and I were working on a plan.” “My own sister betrayed me? When did she find the time?” “I’ve been auditing her women’s studies class.” “Louder!” someone hollered. “Can we get off this stage?” he murmured. “Yes please.” I tugged him after me backstage while someone else took over the mic. The curtains blocked us from the lights and the laughter. “How did you pull this off?” “Payton and Mia might have helped.” I swore to kill them. Or thank them, depending on how this ended up. “How are you?” he murmured. “They treating you OK here?” “It’s hard work. But my boss is easy.” The emotion in his face had my insides tingling.

“I miss you every fucking day. Every part of you. Your smile, your clever brain, your smartass remarks.” “Really?” He shook his head. “I’m used to keeping things private, but the last two weeks I’ve been ready to hire a damned skywriter to tell the world you’re mine. I almost did it on the whiteboard in Jefferson the other day,” he added, a look of need in his eyes. The laugh that bubbled up was giddy. I took a deep breath. “You were right about something. I’ve been trying so hard to survive, I haven’t let myself live. I’m letting go of the past. In fact, I’m going to Jimmy’s wedding in a couple weeks.” I cocked my head. “Do you have any interest in a weekend trip to Canandaigua?” “How did you know it was on my list of top places to visit?” he deadpanned. The serious face dissolved into a grin, and I couldn’t resist running my hand up his strong chest, looping my arms around his neck. “You got funny while we were apart.” “I got miserable while we were apart,” he murmured against my neck. My chest ached, but this time it was in a good way. “Me too.” “I’m fucking glad. I don’t want to be without you, Charlotte. It’s never been just sex. It was always you. You’re the only person in the world

who could change my mind. Make me want what I never thought I’d have.” “What’s that?” “Trust. Caring. Love.” My eyebrows shot up. “Love?” His body was pressed against mine, and suddenly his words were competing with a thousand other sensations for my attention. But he nodded. “I tried to give you space, but that’s not my style.” “It’s really not,” I murmured. “So now you’re here.” “I am. And I love you.” “Well, shit. You really just said that.” “Calculated risk.” “You’re crazy, you know it?” “I was hoping for a more positive reaction,” he admitted. I pulled his mouth down to mine and kissed him with all the swirling emotions I was feeling. I pulled back first, even though it was the last thing I wanted. “I love you too. You really think we can do this? Because I can’t lose you again.” “We’ll figure it out. Because I’m red and you’re yellow.” “I thought I was red and you were yellow.” “I sense a compromise in the making.” “How mature of you.” “Mhmm. Let’s work it out naked.”

“Only if you start in your Waldo costume.” I shoved at him, but he pulled me closer. He bent to kiss me. I let him for a moment, then pulled back as his hands snuck under the waistband of my pants. “Hey, watch the hands.” Avery glanced over my shoulder. “Where’s your desk?” “What, you think getting it on at work events is our thing now? I’ll have you know this is my new job and I happen to take it very seriously.” “Then let’s get the fuck out of here fast, because I’m going to take you very seriously.” His mouth found my neck and I gasped. “I was wrong. You’re still not funny.”

EPILOGUE AVERY

3 months later

“T

hat’s it. This isn’t fucking working. It’s over,” I hollered through the wall. “Avery, come on.” Charlotte’s pleading voice came through the other side. “You said you love me. Can’t we try one more time?” I shifted back, studying the wooden shelves on the wall. “There’s a reason this rack broke in the first place. Too many damned shoes. You’re not going to fit another pair on this,” I muttered to myself. She stuck her blond head in the door of her bedroom, holding her hand over the speaker of her cell phone. “What?” Every time I saw her it was a punch in the gut.

It was a feat of superhuman strength not to go weak at the knees at the sight of those eyes full of mischief. The full mouth that did a million things that kept me up at night. The body that fit mine to perfection. “I don’t care what closet Max Donovan’s built Payton for all her crap,” I muttered. “She’s pregnant, and he’s wrapped around her finger.” “Payton, I’ll call you back later all right?” my girlfriend said into her phone, then hit a button to disconnect. Charlotte sent me a teasing smile. “You, unlike Max, do exactly what you want.” “You know it.” “Have I ever told you how much I like a man who works with his hands?” Her voice went straight to my dick. “Yeah, well. It’s easy. Since I love you so much, I could put another shelf over there.” I gestured to the far wall. Then lifted a shoe and read off the bottom. “For the Valentinos and whatever else doesn’t fit on this one.” Her eyes warmed. “You said the magic words.” “I love you?” “Valentino.” I groaned. My girl liked her shoes. But they looked hot as fuck on her. So I guess I liked them too. “What’s new with Payton?”

Charlotte lifted a shoulder, which had me noticing the coral dress she wore. New? Maybe. But it looked easy enough to take off, which was the most important factor. “…She does work for you,” I heard her say. “But I think it was a big relief to tell everyone about her pregnancy. And I know she appreciates you working with her to figure out how to get her a few months off and cover her clients.” “Yeah. It’s easier now that the program’s been rolled out company wide.” And now that corporate banking was safe and one of the top revenue generators in the business. “Oh, and did you see the thank you card Jimmy sent us from his wedding?” “Uh-huh.” Last month we’d visited her childhood home, where I’d met all the Merriweathers. At once. I’d earned serious points for that. I shifted off my knees to look for a screwdriver. We spent most of our time at my place, and maybe it’s egotistical but if I have my way she’ll be moving out of this place and in with me before she can make use of these damned shoe racks. But if I told her that, it’d start a fight. Which might end up in bed… And wouldn’t end for hours. I added it to my mental to-do list.

“Come on, Avery, we have to go to this birthday party.” I glanced up to see Charlotte fastening some dangly earrings into her ears. “Let’s skip it.” “It’s your birthday,” she insisted. “Your uncle and Kenna are waiting for us.” I winced. It was true. Kenna’d sprung this on me, but apparently she and Charlotte had been planning it. Having my girlfriend take class with my sister was a bad fucking idea. I loved that my two favorite people got along, but I’d been thinking it would end with the summer class. Now that Kenna had decided to stay in school, she’d picked a communications elective this fall with Charlotte. Between the stuff my girlfriend was spouting from class and what she’d brought home from her work at the club? It made me feel like the slacker. Not that I minded. She was smart and sexy and I loved seeing how she lit up when she talked about it. By now everyone knew I was dating Charlotte. I’d thought it would be hard to tell them, but when I went to do it, it was easy. Maybe because I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember. Or because I was starting to trust that she loved me just as much.

Just looking at her had my heart expanding in my chest. “Two minutes,” I insisted. “I’m going to finish this if it kills me. Where are your tools?” “Tools?” I crossed to the bed and yanked open the nightstand drawer. “Whoa. This might be a dealbreaker.” Charlotte crowded in around me as I stared at the selection of sex toys. “What? Oh, come on. Don’t be intimidated. You’re way bigger than any of those.” “I’m not intimidated.” I might’ve been, had I seen these a year ago. But I’d been making this woman scream going on six months, thank you very much. A piece of paper lodged in the edge caught my attention. I yanked it out. Scratch that, two pieces. Any uncertainty that’d arisen from opening the drawer was gone in a second. In that moment, the grin on my face couldn’t have been stripped off with turpentine. “Are these part of the Charlotte Merriweather DIY experience?” I held up the first —a picture of me, presumably from her damned calendar. “Maybe.” “Then what’s this?” I unfolded the second sheet. It was an image of me at a corporate event

nearly two years ago. Big, shiny, glossy…with July over my head. “Wait—Charlotte, did you do this more than one year?” “Guilty. You mad?” I considered. “I had no idea this was such an important part of your life.” “I might have gotten off to you a few times,” she admitted. I rubbed my fingers over the paper. “I’m pretty sure this is still wet.” She shoved me, but I moved too fast, grabbing her by the hips. Her eyes darkened. Oh, yeah, this was my girl. I knew it before my hands skimmed up her thighs. Before her breathy little sigh. “I already got dressed,” she murmured. “This is what I’m wearing for your birthday.” My fingers found their way between her legs, where she was already damp through my favorite lace panties. “Then how about you take it off,” I suggested, my fingers rubbing against her slick skin. “For my birthday.” Charlotte moaned and like that my dick was pressing against the fly of my pants. What this woman did to me. “I think that could be arranged,” she sighed as I

toppled her onto the bed. Here’s the thing I never understood before about being in a relationship. It’s not about the fights. It’s having someone for everything. And this woman was everything. Not just the scent of her skin that struck me dumb every time I stripped her naked. Or the way her tits fit in the palms of my hands, like they did now as I impatiently tugged off her lace bra. Not even the way her eyes changed colors when I pressed inside her. It was the fact that we’d started out by breaking the rules. But somewhere in the midst of it, we’d found our own way. Our own rules. Not the ones we thought we needed to play by, but the ones that worked for us. And if they didn’t work for us? We’d change them. Because Charlotte wasn’t just what I wanted. She was what I needed. I tried like hell to be what she’d needed. When we’d woken up in my bed this morning, we’d both needed slow. Long, leisurely strokes and lazy smiles as we loved each other through an entire Saturday morning. Tonight, if we were going to make out dinner reservation and avoid pissing off my sister? It was going to have to be fast.

Charlotte was on the plan. From the way her beautiful face flushed, and the sounds she made low in her throat when I sucked a nipple into my mouth, I knew she was ready to pop. “OhmiGod Avery. Yeah, like that.” She sounded like a wicked angel, the low plea of her voice competing with the sounds of the bedsprings as I pressed into her with long strokes. When Charlotte came on my cock, her legs wrapped around my waist and her nails in my back, it was the most perfect feeling in the world. OK, second most perfect. Her aftershocks had every muscle in me twisting, clenching, until I couldn’t take it. “Fuck, Duchess,” I groaned when I exploded seconds later. I buried my face in her hair as I murmured whatever stupid things guys in love murmur after they come like a rocket. Which suited me fine. Because what they don’t tell you about relationships? The most beautiful thing about being with someone day after day, through the good times and bad, through the fights and the makeups … The next day you get to do it all again.

EPILOGUE TWO (BONUS!) CHARLIE

One month later “Pinch me,” I murmured. My shallow breaths barely fulfilled my need for oxygen, but there was no way around the fact that my chest muscles were refusing to function. Until the stabbing pain in my arm had me sucking air. “OW!” Rose’s eyes widened. “You told me to.” “True. And you did bring cookies.” I reached a hand into the box on the fold-down table in front of us. “Martin made them especially for the shoot. He’s so sweet.” I bit into one, savoring the taste as I took in the sight before us. The photographer had decided to

shoot outside given the perfect lighting. The trees in the park behind the white backdrop were just starting to turn red and gold. But what captivated my attention was the trio of guys in suits posing on the backdrop. “You know, I think this is what heaven’s like,” I commented. “Cookies and hot guys.” “I still can’t believe you got him to do this.” I shook my head. “He volunteered.” The man behind the camera clicked away, shouting directions like he was shooting a Vogue spread. “You! Clark Kent type. That way. Think intense. What’s something you’re intense about?” Blake from derivatives frowned. “Uh. Baseball?” “Great,” the photographer gushed. “Think of baseball. Baseball everywhere!” As he turned, my boyfriend caught my eye, shooting me a look somewhere between amused and tortured. When Avery’d come to me a few weeks ago suggesting we redo the calendar, I was more surprised than anyone. But I’d immediately gotten excited when he suggested making it a charity project. “It was your genius idea to make it not just Alliance,” Rose commented. “Thanks to your promotions on social, the first run of Boston Babes is already sold out.”

“We might have to bump up the run to ten thousand.” Knowing it was already a success had me tingling. A dozen companies had jumped onboard the project, and there were more on the waiting list for next year. Each one got a month to feature a shot of as many guys as they wanted, wearing whatever they wanted. The companies paid to cover the cost of production, and all the proceeds went to twelve charities. “I can call the printer and see if we can up our order.” Rose pulled out her phone and hit a contact, turning away when someone answered. I was beyond grateful Rose was helping with this. She seemed to be fitting in at Alliance, and the bureaucracy rolled off her. Of course, it might’ve helped that her boss was the hottest guy I’d ever seen. Or that she was dating Martin who, judging from the stories, treated her like gold. “I’m late,” a voice panted next to me. “Did I miss it?” Kenna’s aviators were pulled down over her eyes but her face was wide with excitement. “You’re just in time. The Alliance guys are wrapping up.” “And how awkward is it?” She craned her neck to see past the camera. “Strangely not. Except when Blake turned left

and James turned right and they almost kissed.” “Those two guys?” she asked, and I nodded. “That I would pay for. Did they decide on a charity for their month?” “Not yet. I suggested erectile dysfunction, but they didn’t bite.” Next to me, Kenna’s shoulders rocked. We watched as the photographer clicked, giving direction to Avery and the other two guys. Seeing three grown men in suits try to look cool together without looking like they were in some weird kind of banker porn was worth the price of admission right there. After a few more minutes, the photographer declared the Alliance guys done and shooed them off. “Next up. Titan!” The photographer called the name off his sheet. I crossed to him, tapping him on the shoulder. “Regrettably, there’s been a substitution. Titan’s not going to be represented, instead we have…” I trailed off. “We’re here! We’re here.” Two men in jeans took over the white backdrop that’d be digitally edited to show various places. One wore a grin, the other a scowl. “Delivered, as promised.” Payton pulled up next to me, her stomach protruding in her cute sixmonth bump. She held out a hand and I fished in

my bag for the twenty. I slapped it in her palm. “Damn, who’s that,” Kenna breathed. I hadn’t noticed her move between us. “Max Donovan. Payton’s boyfriend. He runs Titan games.” And I had no idea how Payton had wrangled him into this. When I suggested Titan could do a month in the calendar, I’d figured there was no way it’d happen. “Not him. The other one.” Kenna nodded to the second guy, who wore a sport coat over a stylish shirt. “He’s single but he’s way too old for you.” “I know. But he’s seriously hot.” Objectively, I had to agree. Riley had lost none of his appeal since I’d met him, and he looked more than happy to pose for the camera. Max, by contrast, shot baleful looks at Payton like he was hoping she’d rescue him. She smiled sweetly. “So,” I asked, unable to contain the laughter. “How’d you swing it?” “Actually it was all Riley. Apparently doing a charity calendar was on his bucket list. He convinced Max it would be better for business if they had the CEO and chief legal counsel represented. But for the record, being pregnant is the ultimate trump card.” “I’m glad you’ve both figured that out.” I watched the way Max’s gaze softened as he stared past the camera at his girlfriend. “I can’t believe

I’m saying this, but I think he might almost deserve you.” “Mmm. Speaking of…” Avery came up behind me, wrapped an arm around my waist. “Duchess.” My grin was smothered by the kiss that descended on me. A worthy sacrifice when the man doing the kissing was one who made my heart stop and my knees give out. “Whoa,” I said when he pulled back. “Stop trying to hit on the management.” “Don’t mind me,” a voice piped up. “It’s not like it took me two transfers to come down here and witness your modeling debut or anything.” Avery turned to wrap his other arm around Kenna. “Your self-sacrifice for the cause is noted.” She rolled her eyes but tilted her head into his shoulder. Even after almost six months, I loved seeing them together. The soft spot he had for her melted my heart every time. “So,” Avery started, turning back to me. “Best July ever?” My mouth twisted, and he dropped his arm. “What. Don’t tell me we’re not July.” “You have some competition.” I nodded toward the backdrop where the camera was clicking rapidly. Riley’s easy grin contrasted with Max’s intensity. I could tell it made for a pretty damned

good shot, even if the photographer hadn’t been screaming, “YES! MORE!” with euphoric abandon. “Those posers? We’re in suits. They look like they’re going to a punk concert. No offence,” he tossed to Payton. “None taken.” She smiled, rubbing a hand over her stomach. Her eyes never left her boyfriend. “Is there any other competition I need to be aware of?” Avery murmured. “Hmm.” I glanced around the set. “The guys from that new hotel were pretty good. I tried to get Jack down here from LIVE, but neither Mia nor I could twist his arm. There is supposed to be a contingent arriving from a chain of personal training studios…so no promises.” “Who decides which business gets which month?” “I do.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. The sharp expression on his face was familiar: his I’ve got an idea face. “So if I can influence you, I’m golden.” I dropped my chin, studying him through my eyelashes. “I suppose.” I couldn’t help the teasing edge in my voice. “OK, I’m getting out of here before this gets weird.” Kenna scooted off, leaving Payton nibbling at a cookie with a dreamy look in her eye.

“So,” Avery murmured, wasting no time looping both arms around my waist and tugging me close. “How might I get the judge to look favorably on us?” Once I couldn’t have pictured him being affectionate in public—but now, the look he shot me said he definitely wasn’t thinking about things you could do in a park. I basked, in the late afternoon sunshine, and his attention. My fingers feathered in the back of his hair. “I have it on good authority she’ll be available for persuasion this evening.” Avery’s eyes glinted. “I see. Anything I need to bring? Money? Liquor?” I waved a finger in a circle at him. “Bring all of that.” My hand reached for his tie. Stroked down the silky fabric. “Mmmm. And maybe this. This is nice.” “You could taste it later.” I pictured it tied in my mouth and felt heat pool between my thighs. Yeah, my guy was all about the dirty talk once he loosened up. And he wasn’t just talk. He could back it all up. He kissed me again, sending shivers through my entire body. A year ago I wouldn’t have believed I’d be seriously dating my former boss. Couldn’t have imagined he was as smart, and sexy, and supportive.

Even though we still fought, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because we loved each other like crazy. As of now, I’m a fan of love. A big one. That doesn’t mean I could ever let go of the sex. The chemistry between us was every bit as electric as the first time, and the intimacy only made things hotter. “Maybe I could get an early print copy of one of those photos,” Avery murmured when he pulled back. “Something to inspire you.” “You want me to look at your picture while we fuck?” I whispered so no one would overhear. “It’s basically you getting off to me—which I happen to know you love—only better.” “How’s that?” “Because I’m getting you off to me.” I cocked my head and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Don’t look at me like that, Duchess. I know you’re up for it.” My face split into a grin. “I so am.”

THE END

Thank you for reading NSFW! This is a book I’ve wanted to write since PLAY. I’ve never written an office romance (though work almost always factors into my stories), but I love reading them. Most stories focus on the taboo of the bossemployee relationship, playing on the overt power dynamics. What I most love about office romance isn’t the power dynamic of who’s-reporting-to-who. It’s the nature of who we are in the workplace as opposed to at home. It’s the struggle within ourselves—how we see ourselves, how want to see ourselves, and how we want others to see us. Whether we work in an office, from home, or from somewhere else entirely, many of us feel that we

can’t be ourselves at our work. That people won’t respect us if we are. That our weaknesses mean we’re not good enough. That’s what I wanted to bring with this story, in both Charlie and Avery. That’s why this wasn’t a book about a boss sleeping with his admin until finally they get exposed to the public thanks to an unlocked door during a poorly timed oral sex scene. It was a book about what happens when we’re forced to show up in the world differently than how we always have. Than how we’ve planned. Than how we’re comfortable showing up. To be honest, that made it a bit of an odd book to write. I kept waiting for that moment where everything would blow up. It never came. Because by the end of writing, I realized something. NSFW isn’t a story about taboo relationships. It’s a story about the stories we tell to keep ourselves safe. The rules we make that preserve our sense of identity, our feeling of control, our beliefs that we’re as good as we’re going to be and life is as good as it’s going to get. And how if we’re willing to open up, we might see there’s more to us than those stories and rules. I hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you for reading NSFW! If you haven’t checked out Max and Payton’s story in PLAY, you can do that here. Next up is Riley’s story! If you want to be the first to learn it’s coming out, plus score chapters, teasers and bonus materials free, AND land a free book now? Subscribe to my Insider’s List: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/brPb3

Enjoy this book? Here’s how you can help (in two minutes or less) I’m going to share something kind of personal. Something I haven’t shared with that many people in my life… I want to write full-time. There it is. It always seemed crazy, but guess what. After two years of writing on midnight caffeine trips after long days at the office, I’m nearly there. You can help me make the final push. (Yes, YOU!) See, I don’t have the advertising budget of a publishing house. But one thing I do have that’s worth way more? The most amazing readers in the world. Honest reviews are the best way to get the word out about my books. If you loved NSFW (or one of my other books!), I’d be beyond grateful if you

could take two minutes to leave a quick review. Thanks for being awesome, for inspiring me every day, and for helping make it possible for me to do something I love. xx Piper

ALSO BY PIPER LAWSON TRAVESTY SERIES Schooled (Travesty 1) Stripped (Travesty 2) Sealed (Travesty 2.5) Styled (Travesty 3)

PLAY SERIES PLAY NSFW PLAY 3 (title TBC; Coming soon!) STANDALONE Chased

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I read and write stories where the girls aren’t doormats, the guys aren’t asshats, and secondary characters aren’t secondclass citizens. A card-carrying millennial, I have two business degrees and zero hope of starting a fashion label (unlike my Travesty characters). I crave quirk the way some people crave kink, and believe life is too short not to do what—and who— you love. My home base near Toronto, Canada is shared with my wonderful sig other. I know he's the perfect man because not only is he TDH (tall dark & handsome), but he will beta read for me under duress. And really, that's what love is. Beta reading under duress. To my readers: I'm beyond grateful to you guys who make it possible for me to write. Thank you for buying my books. And inspiring me. And sending me wacky ideas. You're the reason I keep doing this. I love hearing from you! Stalk me on: The Interwebs➜www.piperlawsonbooks.com Facebook➜www.facebook.com/piperlawsonbooks Twitter➜www.twitter.com/piperjlawson Goodreads➜www.goodreads.com/author/show/13680088

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book wouldn’t have happened without the support of Mr. L (the world’s best beta reader), my awesome advance team and reader group (special shoutout to Leslie’s Skarsgard-spo), Natasha’s fab designs, Danielle helping me stay organized and making sure I don’t release new books in a vacuum, and the never ending patience of Rachel and Jenny when I write dumb things. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Copyright 2017 by Piper Lawson Books Developmental editing by Rachel Daven Skinner Line and copy editing by Jenny Govier Cover by Natasha Snow This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

Want to try something different? Enjoy new adult romance? Keep reading for my full-length, sexy college standalone, Schooled! The first book in my Travesty series about smart girls, big dreams, and the oh-so-sexy guys who get in the way.

SCHOOLED Piper Lawson

For gutsy girls of all ages who aren't afraid to go after what they want. (And, for those who are afraid but do it anyway.)

PROLOGUE JUNE, TWO YEARS AGO

“Y

ou’ve lost your mind! It’ll never work.” “It has to, Lex.” My best friend, Ava, set her beer down with a thunk on the table between our beach chairs. Mine was next to it, looking even emptier than hers. Ava and I were indulging in a tradition we’d started years ago. Before leaving for college, we’d lie out at night on the deck of her parents’ pool at least once a week and talk about anything and everything. Looking out over the expanse of water, tinted electric blue by the liner and the lighting, was oddly soothing. It was a weird tradition, but it was ours. “My mom would flip,” I stated. Ava shrugged a slim shoulder. “Well that’s just

a bonus.” “You think we can sell our own clothes and make money at it?” “Come on. With my designs and your brain? We can’t fail.” As crazy as it was, the idea sounded eminently more exciting than a finance career. Ava and I had just finished our freshman year of college. She was in liberal arts but had been talking about transferring into fashion design. I was majoring in business, and the only time my mom bothered to talk to me was to see whether I’d read the investment banking internship pamphlets she kept sending. The mounting sense of feeling trapped plus our long-time love of fashion had combined in some kind of heady cloud to produce this evening’s idea. Beer might have been a contributing factor. The slamming of a car door interrupted our exchange. I sat up and glanced over the hedge that provided some privacy between the pool deck and the driveway beside the house. “You were lucky not to get arrested.” Ava’s father’s voice thundered through the night. Ava and I exchanged startled looks. While I didn’t know the “what,” I was pretty sure I knew the “who.” Dylan Cameron, Ava’s seventeen-year-old brother, was marching ahead of his father up the back walkway toward the porch.

There was a striking resemblance between them, though Dylan was taller and dressed in a button-down and jeans. Sunglasses were sticking out of the neck of his shirt even though it was past 11:00 p.m. With his dark good looks and lean figure, he could’ve been an actor in the latest network teen drama. Dylan’s profile looked mildly irritated but otherwise unconcerned. “It’s not what you think. You’re taking it all out of context.” Dylan’s low voice carried on the night air. “I get a call to come and pick you up from a party where there were drugs. What part of that is out of context?” Mr. Cameron clearly didn’t share his son’s laissez-faire attitude. Ava and I would be in plain view were it not for the backs of our chairs. Just my luck, Dylan glanced back as he reached for the handle of the porch door. For a moment his gaze seemed to lock with mine. Assessing brown eyes stared me down. We must’ve been fifteen feet apart, but his intensity made it feel like two. If our positions had been reversed, I’d have been averting my eyes in shame. Dylan, however, looked entirely unselfconscious. I resisted the urge to turn away. After all, Ava and I were here first. It wasn’t like we had planned to eavesdrop. Dylan’s gaze finally released mine as he turned the handle and stepped inside, his father in pursuit.

The rest of their conversation was muffled as they closed the door. I could make out only dull noises, could distinguish Mr. Cameron’s agitated voice from Dylan’s calm one. “Wow,” I said, turning back to face the yard and sinking into my lounge chair. Ava whistled. Her voice was just audible over the filtration system, which hummed in the background as the pool lights cast an eerie glow over her face. “Dylan’s been kind of crazy lately. Did you hear that two cheerleaders got suspended for fighting over him in the hallway at school?” Ava loved gossip. She didn’t seem to care that it was at her brother’s expense. “Ms. Baron had to physically tear them apart.” I could picture it, our poor former gym teacher trying desperately to extricate fists from hair. The thought made me cringe. I kind of got it. Though I barely knew Dylan, I knew his type. He was the guy that ignited female imaginations and libidos despite zero potential for anything serious. My memory offered up flashbacks from more than fifteen years of time spent at Ava’s. “Remember when he used to be all sweet? Watch movies with us and pack our lunch for the beach?” “You mean before puberty?” Ava’s voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, exactly.” I snickered. We both were silent for a moment. I took another sip of my beer, thinking about what it was that changed us when we entered adolescence. Turned nice kids into bundles of hormones and social posturing. “Did we ever get into trouble like that in high school?” I asked. “Trouble? Yes. Trouble like that? No.” “Here’s to college, and being grown up.” I raised my beer and clinked it against hers.

1 AUGUST, PRESENT DAY

T

he party was already gaining steam when I headed downstairs. Ava and our other roommates, Jen and Emily, had handled the first wave of incomings while I changed into a short black skirt and strappy tank and added some makeup. I left my hair, which was shoulder length and red, to do its thing. It was probably my best feature. My eyes were an unremarkable gray that picked up shades of green when I was agitated or trying to hold something in. Which seemed like most of the time lately. Looking in the mirror I decided Ava was right. I looked pretty good considering my recent and unplanned singledom. Birthday-girl-worthy? Maybe not. But the party had been sprung on me, so I didn’t have much

choice. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to make the rounds. I would smile, laugh, and show everyone I was doing just fine, thank you very much. With luck the crowd would die down early, or maybe move to the bar down the street. I might even get a chance to work on my study schedule for the fall semester of senior year. The one that started Monday. A few dozen faces, some familiar and some not, greeted me as I descended the stairs to the openconcept living and dining area that took up most of the first floor. The town house we shared was just off campus of our state college in San Diego. A newer model, it had hardwood, granite and stainless steel, and didn’t reek of pot. The last reason alone made it a big step up from the typical local student digs. “Happy birthday, Lex!” I was hit with waves of smiles and hugs, some wanted and some tolerated. Though it was nice to see familiar faces, the dull ache in my chest and the occasional sympathetic glance reminded me that many were mutual friends of Jake’s and mine. I’d gotten Ava and our roommates in the breakup at the start of the summer. It wasn’t clear where the others fell. A couple of guys I knew from class were sending me glances of a different kind. I pointedly ignored them, made small talk with everyone I knew, and tried not to think about how many fire

code violations we were committing. The compulsive part of my brain started to kick into overdrive. At one point I had to force myself to stop counting the number of people with my peripheral vision. We weren’t equipped for this much party. As I glanced across the room I spotted Jake Marsden. Shit. Every muscle in my body tightened. He was laughing with a circle of guys and girls. This was the danger of having common friends. Ava wouldn’t have invited him, but Jake showing up probably couldn’t have been avoided. This may have started as a birthday party, but I’m pretty sure it was advertised as “little-b” birthday and “big-p” Party. It was the first I’d seen him in three months and I had to admit Jake looked good. His short, dirtyblond hair still suited him perfectly—the topping on the rest of his great body, earned from playing football at a school that worshipped sports and expected a lot from its heroes. He was several inches taller than my five-five and towered over most of the partygoers who weren’t varsity athletes. Jake and I started dating four years ago in senior year of high school. Jake was that “first crush” guy: the one that makes your head spin and all the other girls send jealous looks because he smiled at you. Jake had transferred from another

school and instantly fit in. We’d been close ever since, even through junior year of college when I’d been taking business and he’d gone into pre-med. He’d even seemed supportive of my dream to start my own label. We never fought. In a way he was the perfect boyfriend: doting without being overbearing. In May I’d won a coveted summer internship in New York with the advertising and accounts group of a major lifestyle magazine. I could still remember Jake’s voice down the line when I’d called to tell him. That’s great, Lex. The pause, then, Listen … you going to New York is a good thing. I’ve been thinking lately that we’re going in different directions, you know? That was the problem. I didn’t know. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d declared that he was actually gay and had decided to run away to become a backup dancer for Lady Gaga. I didn’t like surprises. Especially ones like that. Sure, his dad’s practice was in LA and I would more than likely move to New York when school was done. But that didn’t absolve him of anything. Bottom line: Jake Marsden’s face should appear in the Guinness Book of World Records next to Worst Phone Breakup in History. Part of me never quite understood why he’d picked me in the first place. Jake could have had any girl in school. I always had lots of friends but

was never the center of attention. I was a little too quiet, too studious, too repressed to be an “it” girl. But we’d met at a beach party at the beginning of senior year and somehow clicked. I was flattered, and he’d been charming and sweet. Right up until he’d dumped me out of the blue. I’d had two other boyfriends before Jake. But at twenty-one years old today, an almost four-year relationship was kind of a big deal. Effectively nineteen percent of my life had been spent holding hands, making out, and fused at various bodily junctures to Jake Marsden. I watched him laugh at something one of his friends had said. It looked like the breakup wasn’t weighing too much on his mind. It still bothered me a little. Trying to find myself again post-Jake was harder than I’d expected. Heading back to school, without my internship to occupy me, some of the earlier feelings came flooding back. Even though I didn’t want to be with him anymore, I hadn’t healed enough to want him in my face. Or in my house. I looked around for a distraction. My eyes widened when they landed on our kitchen table. Sitting in the center was a round purple cake made to look tufted with the help of fondant and pearls. An impressive collection of mini-kegs, bottles, and cans surrounded the cake, making it look like a tiny violet island adrift in a sea of impending bad

decisions. My analytic brain did a quick tally and decided we’d amassed roughly enough liquor to sink a war vessel. I made a mental note to murder Ava for throwing this impromptu party, and letting me know about it ten minutes after I got home from New York and an hour before it was set to start. I generally preferred “party lite.” Or even “no party at all.” Glancing back at Jake, my chest tightened a little. I did a quick analysis in my head of the possible ways tonight would play out. I needed to get my brain off my ex, out of OCD mode, and onto something else. Desperate times. I reached for the hard stuff. Alright, Captain Morgan. Permission to come aboard. Two mixed drinks and a shot later, I was starting to relax. I opted for catching up with my roommate Jen and her boyfriend, Jace. Jen told me she met Justin Timberlake while running a half marathon this summer. Only in California did these things happen. Jen was in design like Ava and had met Jace last year playing rec sports. Jen was one of those athletic girls who could turn around and throw on a dress and heels and look instantly glam. Together, they were one of those super cute couples that made you want to vomit. Speaking of vomit … nope, false alarm. I had

always been a lightweight but thankfully not a total pushover. I never got drunk enough to get into any real trouble. I did have to pee though. I excused myself and went in search of the little-known bathroom under the basement stairs. This was one of the perks of partying in your own house. I prayed no one else had discovered it, or if they had, that they’d left it in the same condition in which they’d found it. Winding my way through the crowd and rounding the corner, I collided with a tall form coming from the other direction. Big hands reached out to my shoulders to steady me as I stumbled backward. I had to tilt my chin up to meet a pair of startled brown eyes. Eyes I hadn’t really seen in more than two years, since they had locked with mine across a dark patio. “Lex?” Dylan Cameron’s gaze warmed slightly as recognition set in. “I didn’t see you there.” We’d crossed paths over the last two years at the Cameron house but never had more than a fiveword exchange in passing. Still, though I was sure I’d seen Ava’s little brother, I couldn’t place the guy in front of me. He was taller. He’d filled out, too, his red polo displaying muscles I definitely hadn’t noticed. Otherwise Dylan seemed as coolly untouchable as ever. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” It was true.

Two grades’ difference, though only fourteen months in age, was an eternity in high school. Of course we’d played together as kids, since Ava and her three siblings spanned only six years. But in high school everyone had drifted apart. “Yeah, I’m all grown up now,” he drawled. “Just transferred here. One year on the East Coast was enough for me. Probably for them too.” Dylan grinned. “I start classes next week. The civil engineering program’s the best in the state. I’m fulfilling the Cameron complement of gender stereotypes. Ava sews, I build.” After the two eldest Cameron siblings graduated, there’d always been a bit of friction between Ava and Dylan. Ava joked once that it was because her parents liked her better. While the Camerons had always seemed to me to be great parents, they definitely indulged her. Dylan and his sister weren’t entirely different. Both had been effortlessly popular. But Dylan had somehow fallen off the map. At least, I hadn’t heard any more rumors of the kind that would have had my mother sending me promptly to boarding school if I’d been involved. It surprised me that he was in engineering given his proclivities for partying. As far as I knew it was a pretty demanding major. “Well, consider me dazzled by your scholastic aptitude.” My comment elicited a slow grin. It looked like

it was designed to make teenage girls lose their undergarments. Mercifully I was unaffected. OK, almost unaffected. I had to tilt my head back for my eyes to connect with his. It gave me an excuse to really look at him for the first time in years. Why was it that the good-looking people got all the assets? I should write a letter of complaint to the universe, just as a matter of principle. The Camerons were a good-looking bunch, but Dylan was borne of the deepest end of the gene pool. He would’ve looked right at home on any movie or TV set. Though on second thought, I didn’t know where he would fit. He was too pretty to play the bad boy, his jaw too perfect, long dark lashes framing chocolate eyes, and a sculpted mouth. But he was too edgy to play the male lead. He had that messy-on-purpose hair that looked like some co-ed had been running her fingers through it. He didn’t look like he’d shaven today either. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, bringing my thoughts back to our conversation. “How was your summer? Ava said you spent it partying in Miami or something?” Dylan seemed strangely intent on making small talk. But since ninety percent of the other partiers knew me or Jake, and most of those had chosen sides or had some kind of sub-agenda, Dylan Cameron was one of the most appealing conversationalists available.

“New York, actually,” I corrected. “And more ‘or something’ than partying. I was interning at a magazine.” “Ahhh, yeah my geography was always shit. I was close though.” “Yes. Very close.” I nodded patronizingly. Waited. “New York’s the one with the park. And the statue.” I did my best torch-hoisting impression. Alcohol seemed to melt the filter that came between the thoughts in my head and the words emerging from my mouth. Dylan seemed entertained by it, his dark eyes focusing on mine and the corner of his mouth twitching. “Alright, smart girl. Miami doesn’t have parks or statues?” “Nothing near eight hundred and forty-three acres or three hundred and five feet tall.” I parroted it automatically. I had a brain for random facts. It was a gift and a curse. “Noted.” Dylan shook his head and a fullfledged smile graced his mouth. I did a double take. The smile did great things for him. Not that he needed the help. “The internship sounds cool,” he commented, pushing aside a chunk of dark hair that had fallen into his face in a familiar way that said he did it often. His deep brown eyes bored into mine. He was one of those guys whose intensity made you feel like you were the center of their entire world.

He could’ve been thinking “I know all your darkest secrets” or “I could go for some spaghetti” and I wouldn’t have known the difference when his eyes were on me like that. “The gig was great. I was one of the best interns ever to grace Manhattan publishing. After three months’ practice, I could run a Starbucks order for a department of twenty from memory.” It was one of the hazing rituals in publishing, but one I’d aced nonetheless. “I don’t believe you. I mean, I do, but they’d have to be idiots to have a girl like you running coffee all day. What else did you do?” He seemed genuinely interested, though I hadn’t the slightest idea why. My grateful brain clicked out of party mode for the time being. “Actually, I got to assist on some major accounts and a campaign. It was way closer to real stuff than I thought I’d be doing.” He scratched his head. “You and Ava are still planning on that business thing, right? The connections must be pretty important.” The fact that he remembered at all was unexpected. That he was thinking about what my internship meant for us was something else. Apparently he was not just a pretty face. As if through some kind of sixth sense, I looked to my left and saw Jake heading our way. It didn’t look like he’d seen me, but I was sure he would

soon. “Oh, fuck!” I swore without thinking, and Dylan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. Most people who knew me better than he did would react the same way. I liked to save swearing for important occasions. Like running into asshole exes for the first time after they’ve broken up with you by phone. I looked around wildly to find a place to hide. But my bad luck in the Jake department held, and the next thing I knew he was right on top of us. Jake seemed to notice me only a few strides away. He came up short and looked from me to Dylan and back. I could tell from the tension in his annoyingly still-great body that he didn’t know what kind of reception he was in for. “Hey, Lex,” Jake said finally, his blue eyes on mine. Uncertainty in them, mixed with a hint of what I hoped was fear. Something else I couldn’t place. “Um … how was your summer? The rest of it, I mean,” he added lamely. I flashed the biggest smile I could muster under the circumstances, going for full wattage but only partly succeeding. “The best. New York was amazing.” Every bone in my body wanted nothing more than to deflect his eyes, his attention. What now? I felt something like panic rising in my throat. “Do you know Ava’s little brother, Dylan? He went to high school with us.” It was a shameless

punt. Familiarity dawned and Jake extended a hand. “Hey, man. You play soccer, right?” “Rugby.” Dylan had resumed what I figured was his default composure, eyes flicking coolly from Jake to me and back. If he knew about our history he didn’t let on. But something told me Dylan wasn’t drawn in by Jake’s easy charm or conversational skills. Regardless of the reason, Dylan Cameron went up another two notches in my view. “Listen, Jake, it was good to see you.” My voice said it was anything but. I didn’t care that I was being rude, just wanted him out of my face. Talking with Dylan had started to take the edge off. This wasn’t helping. Jake’s eyes were cloudy, like he was still trying to put together the right words. They clearly weren’t coming to him. After endless seconds he nodded. “You too, Lex. Happy birthday,” he offered before turning and walking off. I realized this was the first birthday in years I’d spent without him. “Let me guess …” Dylan raised an eyebrow as we watched Jake’s retreating back. “Leading in the polls for Asshole of the Year?” A smile and a joke in the same night? “Running uncontested, actually.” My deadpan response elicited a surprised laugh from Dylan. The

sound warmed my insides. Dylan’s voice, like his appearance, was familiar and different at once. The sound was deep and too rough to be musical. But I could listen to him talk all night. “Well, you let me know if you want me to lay him out for you.” Dylan slapped a fist against his other palm. He was joking, but the thing was he probably could. I didn’t remember hearing anything about him getting into trouble for fighting in high school, but looking him over, it occurred to me that my money would be on him. “Is this service part of the little brother lending library?” I teased. “I don’t have my own, so I get to borrow Ava’s when my reputation is in danger?” I wasn’t used to having my virtue defended, particularly not by an unexpectedly tall, dark, and broody echo of someone from my past. There was something sweet about it. Which was odd, because sweet wasn’t a word I guessed a lot of people used to describe Dylan Cameron. His brow furrowed slightly and he shook his head as if to clear it. “Forget it.” I wondered what had caused the sudden cloud across his face. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but his eye was suddenly drawn away by movement behind me. “Ah, this is your house, right? I’m sensing a situation in need of some diplomacy,” he murmured. Turning to follow his gaze I saw Ava, a five-two

pixie with dark hair and stormy eyes, shouting at a tall blond girl in a miniskirt. While I couldn’t hear any substance over the loud music, this looked like it could get ugly fast. I sighed. “Welcome to college. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stop two girls from ripping each other’s hair out.” He rewarded me with a genuine smile that nearly knocked me off my feet. “Godspeed.” Yeah, the guy had dimples too. Life wasn’t fair.

2

A

pparently three trays of shooters had gone missing from the fridge. Accusations were made. Inquiries ensued. At one point I was worried it would escalate to violence, but I managed to settle the dispute by turning up the objects in question. The trays, mostly full, were being held hostage by a circle of Delta Phi’s playing truth or dare on our back deck. I returned them to the fridge, less what seemed like a reasonable five percent finder’s fee. The party was in full swing. If the neighbors hadn’t been dancing on the dining room table, I would’ve expected them to call the police. I was ready to find something a little less exciting to occupy me. Pre-reading for my

advanced econ course was sounding pretty good right now. I picked my way back through the crowd, heading to the stairs, but pulled up short halfway there. Jake was sitting in one of our armchairs. Perched in his lap was a pretty blond girl who looked like she was trying to devour his head with her mouth. He didn’t seem to be objecting. In fact, his hand was on the back of her head, pulling her closer. My throat burned as the image washed over me. This was not happening. Telling myself I shouldn’t care didn’t seem to make a difference. I stumbled toward the stairs and raced up them. Jerked the door of my room closed behind me and collapsed on my bed. Tears rose behind my eyes, but I refused to cry. I hadn’t cried since my dad left me and my mom more than ten years ago. I wasn’t about to start for some guy who’d cut and run months ago at the first sign of trouble. Jake wasn’t worth it. I didn’t want him back. But seeing him with someone else threw me. Probably because I had no plans to do the same. This summer Ava and I made a pact: no boyfriends senior year. Guys would interfere with our heads, hearts, and most importantly, our business. We’d worked too hard to put the pieces

painstakingly in place to lose it all now. The pact had been mostly my idea, but Ava’d eventually gotten onboard. Still, seeing Jake and the blond had sent my body into panic mode even as my head was telling me it would be OK. I tried to talk myself down. Deep breaths, Lex. In and out. A knock sounded at my door. It was followed by a deep voice, rough and tinged with concern. “Lex? It’s Dylan. Is everything OK?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” My voice almost matched my words. I’m not the kind of girl who needs, or likes, to be rescued. And as far as would-be saviors went, Dylan Cameron would not be my choice. I was about to ask him to leave when the door handle turned. His lean face appeared, silhouetted by the light in the hallway. I’d turned on the lamp beside my bed but deliberately left the overhead off. Dylan slowly stepped in and pushed the door partly closed behind him so only a couple inches of bright hallway shone into the semi-darkness of my room. I hadn’t pictured him as the nurturing type, but given he had two older sisters, he’d likely picked up pieces of shattered female once or twice. It wasn’t clear why he was willing to volunteer the same for me.

He leaned his frame against the wall beside the door and crossed his arms over his chest, like he wasn’t sure where else to put them. “I saw you take off up the stairs like something was on fire. What happened?” “Nothing. Really, Dylan, it’s fine.” He didn’t move, just waited me out. From ten feet away, those brown eyes probed mine as if Dylan was reading everything I was feeling but didn’t want to voice. I scanned them as best I could across the distance between us. There was no trace of pity, just curiosity and compassion. Instead of asking him to leave, I found myself sighing. “It’s stupid,” I muttered. It was embarrassing being exposed this way in front of a near stranger. But he’d been kind enough to come up, and the least I could do was be polite. Mustering all my energy. I sat up, pulled my legs toward me and crossed them. Dylan watched me another endless moment before taking three slow strides toward my bed. “Can I …” He gestured to the bedspread. “Be my guest.” I didn’t know why he was here or why he cared. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Dylan perched on one hip, far enough away that he wasn’t in my space. Still, I felt the mattress sink as he lowered his weight. He hunched toward

me so his brown eyes were peering into my gray ones. I noticed his were lighter than they’d looked downstairs—chocolate shot with caramel—and up close they seemed about a thousand miles deep. “I remember when Jenna Carlisle held her twelfth birthday party the same day as yours, even though her birthday wasn’t until the week after. Everyone knew she did it just to spite you. Half the class missed your party. It was a dick move, but you didn’t let anyone see that it bothered you.” His eyes flickered back and forth on mine, as if he was replaying it in his mind. How could he possibly remember that? I had nearly forgotten it, though it had made me feel like crap at the time. Now that he reminded me, I could recall Ava’s indignation. She’d later started a rumor that Jenna had paid people to go to her party. It had ended with Jenna in tears and half the seventh grade class demanding compensation the first week of school. “So what you’re saying is the world has been out to get me for nine years and I should be used to it by now?” “I’m saying that you don’t need to have it together all the time. No one expects you to be perfect.” Wow. He sounded way too smart for his age. And even if he was utterly wrong, his heart was in the right place.

We sat in silence for a moment before Dylan offered his arm. I blinked. Whether it was the booze, the confrontation with Jake, or just the unfamiliar feeling of a kind person wanting to help, I leaned in. He wrapped his arm around me and I breathed in deeply against his chest. It should’ve been weird but it wasn’t. There was no tension in his body. As his calm seeped slowly into me I felt the knots in my stomach start to relax. It was nice just to be held. It had been a long time since I’d had that. Dylan’s shoulder was warm and he smelled like home. With my face pressed against his dark Henley he could’ve been any nice, normal guy. He didn’t say anything, just let me sit there for minutes, prolonging my imaginings. I wasn’t used to letting people be there for me; this felt like a stolen moment. I could’ve stayed there forever. Instead I forced myself to move. He might’ve been Ava’s brother but he wasn’t mine. I sat up and faced him. “Thanks, Dylan. For … you know.” And I meant it. “This crap with Jake, though, it won’t happen again. I’m swearing off guys.” He nodded like he understood. “Switching to girls?” He arched a dark eyebrow. My faced scrunched like I was considering the

question. “I’m leaning toward celibacy. Girls are crazy too.” The corner of my mouth twitched despite my foul mood. “Sounds like a plan. I know of a great convent if you’re in the market.” “Please. I’m so ready for things to be simple, you know? I would love to have one outfit to choose from in the morning. Eat porridge for breakfast. Live vicariously through other people’s drama.” My nose scrunched a little. “Though I’m not sure I want to go to any convent you’re … familiar with.” He seemed perplexed, his eyebrows drawing together slightly. Then understanding dawned. “What are you saying? You think I’m a player?” “I’m sure I’m not the only one.” “Seriously?” His eyes darkened, clouded. “Maybe I am. But you don’t even know me, Lex. Not really.” He was right. He’d been nice enough to come make sure I was OK, and here I was giving him shit. Still, I wasn’t a total pushover. “So that rumor about Principal Green suspending two cheerleaders for fighting over you in the hall in junior year wasn’t true?” Beyond that I’d never paid attention to his social life since we moved in different circles. Except when the gossip made Ava’s radar and transcended two grades.

“Not my fault.” His gaze hardened like he was remembering something he’d rather forget. “You can’t hold me accountable for the actions of hormone-ridden teenage girls, especially ones I wasn’t even dating.” He sighed. “I don’t know how we ended up talking about me. I came up here to talk about you. But as long as we are, can you do me a favor and just forget everything you think you know about me for a second?” I was taken aback by his tone. “I’ll try.” My voice sounded wary even to my own ears. “If it helps my image, my social calendar is remarkably empty at the moment,” he volunteered. “And with your ringing endorsement a second ago, is it any wonder? You know, ‘girls are crazy’ and all.” The tension that had arisen moments ago at the mention of high school rumors seemed to leave his body again, mirrored by a smoothness returning to his voice. “Sure, but I bet you broke a lot of hearts back East when you came here. It’s funny, though, now that you mention it, I can’t remember you dating in high school. Did you never bring girls around?” By around I meant his house. I’d spent more time there than my own, so it felt natural calling it that. “You don’t remember because you and Ava were so much older and cooler.” He didn’t add that he and Ava hadn’t really gotten along. For some reason, bringing up high school this time didn’t

seem to make him uncomfortable. “If it wasn’t about clothes, or football players, or celebrities it wasn’t on your radar. What if I told you I haven’t had time for girls?” I rolled my eyes, one immature habit I’d never been able to break, and shoved his shoulder. Or tried—my hands were barely able to move him an inch. “Yeah right. No time for girls? Even when they’re pulling each other’s hair out over you?” Dylan’s eyes fell to my floral bedspread, and he seemed to lose himself in thought again. But then they flicked back to mine and when he spoke again his voice was matter-of-fact. “Pretty much. I needed a full scholarship to make tuition. It wasn’t an option for Ava because of her grades and major. But Mom and Dad lost some of their savings and they couldn’t afford to put us both through after Kate.” The eldest Cameron had graduated from pharmacy school and just moved to Illinois to practice. Ethan, their other sibling, was in real estate and hadn’t gone to college. “I logged about twenty hours a week in extra credit projects and tutoring senior year. Between that and rugby, which the guys begged me to stay on the team so they could have a run at state, I didn’t have time for dating that year. Or anything else, really. I thought I might get a rugby scholarship but messed up my knee midway

through the season. When I got an academic scholarship to Penn State, I jumped at it.” I was floored by his words. Everything had seemed to come easily to him. Though I hadn’t seen much of him the last few years, I’d always assumed it was because of partying and crazy stunts, not a roster of academic and service commitments. He misinterpreted my reaction. “Believe me, my parents were just as shocked as you are that I managed to score the free ride.” Dylan suddenly looked uncomfortable, like he was surprised he’d said what he had. “But don’t say anything to Ava, OK? She doesn’t know. I mean, she knows about the scholarship but not about the money thing.” I nodded, not understanding why he’d told me. Or why it was so important to keep it a secret. Dylan and I had grown up on the fringes of one another’s lives with only the odd intersection. I’d never figured there was much beyond the talk. Or maybe you just never cared enough to look, part of me chided. He’d been something of a paradox, the bad boy with enough mass appeal to become the most popular guy in his year despite his screw-youall exterior. But I’d pegged him as being so focused on cars and girls he had no time for scholarships, like most guys his age. “So why did you come back?” I asked.

He thought for a moment. “I always wanted to be here. But the scholarship and other things made Penn State look pretty good last year. I studied my ass off hoping to get a transfer closer to home. Guess I lucked out.” He let out a breath. “In any case, I’m glad to be back. And maybe if I’m lucky I can have a semi-normal college experience.” I tried to lighten the serious mood by cracking a smile. “Well, Dylan, you got your wish. A goodlooking kid like you will catch up on the, ah, extracurriculars in no time.” Somehow it didn’t have the desired effect, causing him to frown instead. “I’m not a kid, Lex. Don’t assume I haven’t been through just as much as you have.” Something in his steady gaze made me uncomfortable. He had changed a lot from the Dylan I’d known. Or more accurately, the Dylans I’d known. I remembered him through flashes, impressions over the years. The smart one who’d tried to convince his mom he couldn’t go to school the day he lost his first tooth because he clearly needed surgery to re-attach it. The timid one who’d been afraid of storms, willing to play Barbie with second-grade Ava and me just to have company when the thunder started. The serious one in junior high who’d peer at you thoughtfully from under dark hair and dark lashes when your paths crossed, like he could see inside your head. Then there was the one in high school—

the athlete and the partier, beloved by guys and girls alike. Well, apparently not as much of the girls as everyone had assumed. I didn’t know which Dylan was sitting in front of me—one of those or another entirely. Chalk it up to yet another surprise. It was starting to feel like I could build a Jenga tower out of them. The guys I thought I could trust left me, and the ones I thought had perfect lives were holding them together with duct tape behind the scenes. Dylan’s voice brought me back from my wandering train of thought. “Anyway, if you’re so much older and smarter,” he said, “what’d I miss while I was up to my ears in textbooks and jockstraps?” His sudden playfulness was unexpected. Despite his mood swings, I found myself thoroughly enjoying our conversation. “You mean because you didn’t date?” He nodded. “Well,” I mused, “on the bright side you missed out firsthand on the whining, the catfights, and a hundred varieties of high maintenance that is teenage girls.” “I like your optimism. Although some of that definitely came through osmosis living with two older sisters. What about the downside?” I looked at him strangely. I would have normally flushed, but given my current state of mind and partial inebriation I was footloose and

censor-free. “Well, the obvious one is sex.” Dylan quirked an eyebrow. “I mean, it kind of is something you need two people to do. Or, I guess, more than two is fine also.” The words spilled through my filterless brain and out my mouth, ending with a lift that suggested I was waiting for a response. This moment brought to you by hard liquor. “Alexis Caine. Are you asking about my sex life? Like, for posterity?” Dylan looked amused as he turned to face me on the bed, legs crossed, his posture mirroring mine. Our knees were touching. I shouldn’t have noticed, but did. Could feel the warmth of his body on my bare legs through his jeans. I wasn’t sure how to respond. His mouth twitched and suddenly he burst out laughing. It was a rich noise that sounded real contrasted with the dull roar of laughing and music that wafted up the stairs. I had the random thought that I would do just about anything if he would keep laughing like that. “Well, since you seem to be prying all my secrets out of me, why stop now, right?” He folded his arms across his chest as if steeling himself for my reaction. “I’m not a virgin. But it has been awhile. Junior year, Amy Street. We dated for two months, but she moved away with her family.” I failed miserably to hold in a snort of laughter. That was miles from what I’d been expecting.

Dylan caught up quickly. “Stop. For the record, she didn’t move the day after we had sex.” “Mhmm. It would explain a lot, though, wouldn’t it?” Teasing him was the most fun I’d had all night. Probably longer than that. I had found a crack in his perfect composure and was enjoying picking at it. For once I wasn’t the target of someone else’s darts. “It was a family decision.” His eyes implored me to understand. But he wasn’t taking himself too seriously either, and the glint in his gaze suggested —what, that he was actually having fun? “A family decision to get her away from you and your badass moves?” “You’re an ego crusher, Lex.” He feigned hurt. “I’m sure you can take it.” “Uh-huh. Listen. Guys are more delicate than you think. But between you and me, because I never really had a girlfriend, I’m a little light on all the … sex-adjacent stuff.” He gestured dismissively with one hand. “All those early teen years of truth or dare, making out in the back of the car, groping on the couch?” I nodded like I knew what he was talking about. Though Jake and I’d done some of that, I wouldn’t have characterized it as a life phase. “Never happened to me.” Dylan put his hands on my knees and inclined his head toward me. His dark eyes were earnest and self-mocking. “I will

deny it if this ever leaves the room, but my cumulative sexual experience totals about the length of an episode of Breaking Bad.” His admission shocked me. First, it was because I didn’t know how he’d managed to escape female attention for that long. Second, I had no idea why he was telling me this. I forced my mind back to the conversation at hand. Which might not have been the best idea after all. “Before you start worrying about me dying alone, two girls have asked me out since I got here.” Apparently girls at our school were smarter than East Coast and high school girls. “So as of now I have two dates and zero moves. I’ve spent so much time with guys and books I hardly know what to do with girls. Who aren’t, you know, my friends or sisters.” Dylan ran a hand through his dark hair, shoved it out of his face. “Or your sisters’ friends.” It seemed funny at the time. “Exactly.” The dimple had returned, next to a self-deprecating smile. This was where things went hazy. All I knew was that it was a pretty messed up night. It pissed me off that guys like Jake would be making out with evil coeds at their ex-girlfriend’s party. It also pissed me off that guys like Dylan, who were basically decent, were left out in the proverbial cold. I needed to do some karmic realigning.

And how exactly are you going to fix this? The teeny, tiny sane part of me asked from a faraway place. I shushed her. Me and the Cap made a good team. “I am a woman of science,” I began, “and as such, believe an objective test is in order.” Dylan raised his brows skeptically. He evidently didn’t know where this was going. That made two of us. “In English, Yoda.” I ignored the age barb and instead stretched up and squared my shoulders, my chin jutting out. “Kiss me.” What the hell did I just say? I was a girl who rolled my clothes for optimal packing and alphabetized my books, for starters. Asking for any kind of bodily contact with my best friend’s little brother, no matter what the circumstances, was completely off script. Dylan was evidently as floored as I was by my proposal. In fact, he looked at me like I’d grown a second head. Which seemed like an overreaction. I was pretty sure I wasn’t that hideous to look at. “Listen, Lex,” he began as he started to get up, “I appreciate the effort to make up for my recently lackluster social life, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. For one, you’ve been drinking.” The problem was that while alcohol changed me in some ways, like losing the filter, it didn’t in

others. When I got an idea in my head I was just as tenacious as usual. “And you haven’t?” “No.” My hands grabbed Dylan’s arms—whoa, muscles—before he could rise and pulled him back down. “I’m not drunk.” He looked skeptical but didn’t try to get up again right away. “I’m not,” I insisted. “Try me.” “Twelve times eighteen.” “Two hundred and sixteen.” My response was a bit slow but I knew it was correct. “The capital of South Africa.” “Pretoria.” Faster this time. “First Democratic president of the United States.” Dylan had leaned in and narrowed his eyes, sensing he had it in the bag. Dig deep, Lex. “Andrew Jackson.” I put my elbows on my knees and rested my chin on my fists. “Serving from 1829 from 1837.” I smiled sweetly. “Any more? I could do this all night.” Dylan looked at me with admiration and something I probably could’ve identified had I been completely sober. While I appreciated the win, it wasn’t clear where that left us. As he opened his mouth to no doubt cite one of a thousand possible reasons this shouldn’t happen, I pre-empted him, channeling my brief tenth grade stint on the debate

team. “Dylan, listen,” I started matter-of-factly. “First, it’s one little kiss. We’re both grown-ups. No big deal. Second, there’s nothing here.” I gestured to the air between us. “We’re practically family, minus the ick factor. Given circumstances that were admittedly beyond your control you are in desperate need of an unbiased third-party opinion.” He opened his mouth to talk and I clapped my hand over it. His mouth was warm under my fingers, but I ignored the feeling. “Third, I have no stake in this, so can be completely honest. If you suck, I’ll tell you.” That sounded way less harsh in my head. But if there were rules for what I was suggesting, I hadn’t the slightest idea what they were. I dropped my hand from his startled face. Dylan Cameron probably wasn’t used to being told to shut up. But I was getting impatient. Life had been playing roulette with my emotions all night, and I was sick of being on the receiving end of whatever was handed down to me. I wanted to decide something for a change. The exasperation lit a fire under me and I threw up my hands, literally. “Oh come on, Cameron, it’s one stupid kiss. To cap off one stupid, heinous night. What are you so afraid of?” Not one of my finest debating moments. But something sparked and the caramel fired in the

depths of his eyes. My words had landed— evidently the boy couldn’t resist a challenge. I had this. “One kiss?” he asked warily. I nodded. Dylan’s eyes scanned my face, though I hadn’t the first idea what he was looking for. “Fine.” The word sounded tight, like he wasn’t entirely convinced, but at least he’d said it. I wanted to crow in victory. Because of the way we were sitting, our faces were only inches apart to begin with. Looking over the planes of his face, obscenely long eyelashes hooding chocolate eyes, his full lips parted, awareness suddenly ran through me. It felt like we’d gotten closer together though I was pretty sure neither of us had moved. Suddenly I was less sure of myself. The kiss had seemed harmless enough when I proposed it. Now, with Dylan looming larger than life in front of me with broad shoulders and tanned skin and unreadable eyes, things weren’t so black and white anymore. Dylan inclined his body toward me slowly. He paused with his lips a couple of inches from mine. Through partly lowered lashes I could see the skepticism etched on his defined features. What the hell was he waiting for? Impatient to get it done—I needed to get studying if I was going to salvage anything of this bizarre evening—I closed the space between us

until we were breathing the same air, a millimeter apart. He had no out. The smallest twitch would bring us into contact. Dylan smelled like mint and something else, something headier. Based on the challenge in his eyes earlier, I was willing to bet he wouldn’t back out now. He didn’t. The light touch of his lips was fleeting on mine. I’d intended only to assess, but my eyes fluttered closed at the first touch. His mouth was just the right mix of hard and soft. A tingling lasted for seconds after his lips left mine, then faded into nothing at all. I felt strangely exposed until Dylan’s mouth came back. This time it was firmer, lingering. His lips brushed. And they clung. My eyebrows rose in surprise as little sparks ignited in my brain, pinpricks rising along my arms. Warning bells went off somewhere in the recesses of my mind. Dylan’s mouth moved over mine, still slowly, but more purposeful by the second. The kiss was deceivingly casual, like Dylan himself—smooth on the surface with an edge just underneath. It struck me suddenly that he was right: I didn’t know him at all, and it might be more than a little bit dangerous to assume I did. His lips slanted over mine, coaxing, asking for things that couldn’t be put into words. It felt like he wanted my permission to explore, to savor. I

wanted to let him do that and more. The realization shook me. I sucked in a breath, consciously willing my hands to stay at my sides. After a moment, or five, he pulled back. Well damn. It was going to take me a moment to regroup—from his kiss and from my reaction to it. I blinked, trying to focus on the denim of his jeans until my eyes uncrossed enough to meet his gaze. Our knees were still touching. Whoever had told him he didn’t have any moves was flat out wrong. Part of me wanted to see his eyes. I didn’t trust myself to look up quite yet, though I could feel his eyes on me. “Well.” Was that my voice? I cleared my throat. “That was—” My words were cut off as I felt fingertips on the back of my neck, searing my skin as he pulled my mouth back to his. That’s when Dylan Cameron really kissed me. The heat of his mouth crushing down on mine was like a drug. Dylan’s thumb stroked the length of my jaw and when his tongue slipped out to part my lips I opened, half from surprise and half instinctively. Suddenly shocks were going straight down my spine. Warming me in other places. I felt completely helpless to resist him or what was growing between us. He tasted like sin. The ridiculous thought drifted through my suddenly hazy brain. Dylan’s

mouth on mine was raw. He moved with a conviction that did strange things to my brain and my body. He was unpracticed, but the way I reacted to him couldn’t have been more perfect if he’d kissed a thousand girls. This was definitely not part of the plan. Dylan explored my mouth with his bold tongue. Every other thought was forgotten except for the feeling of him overwhelming me. His fingers were on the back of my neck, caressing and then tightening to pull me closer. It was like his mouth was trying to bypass my brain and speak directly to my body. Like it knew there was something between us and was asking, is this what you wanted? Until now I’d been on the receiving end but couldn’t be still anymore. His mouth had lit me on fire and my reaction was completely unpredictable. My hand reached up of its own accord, sliding up his muscular chest and around his neck until my fingers fisted themselves in his hair. I used the leverage to hold him to me harder as my mouth started moving under his. Dragged, slid. A breath hitched. His teeth grazed my lower lip and a bolt of hot lust shot through me. I heard a low moan and didn’t know if it was me or him, but it was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. Dylan rose up onto his knees and his other arm

reached around my back to haul me closer. The strength that pulled me against him definitely did not belong to a kid, and the move brought the front of my body flush with his. His fingers fisted in my loose hair and he pulled down, forcing my head back more and opening my mouth under his. My blood was thrumming in my veins and I could feel my heartbeat every second, everywhere. The heat in my stomach, and lower, was driving me crazy and I arched my body toward him. If this was a game I wasn’t sure if we were winning or losing anymore. My brain had left the equation long ago and the only thing I knew with certainty was that I needed to feel more of him against me. Harder. Closer. His chest pressed against my breasts, his hips fitted against mine, and … oh God. This was spiraling out of control. I was practically climbing my best friend’s little brother, who happened to be in the process of turning me inside out with his mouth and hands. On my bed. This had to stop. My eyes opened a crack and it brought me back to reality. Summoning willpower I didn’t know I had, my hands pushed Dylan back harder than I’d intended. He let go of me instantly. I could hear our breathing, shallow and mismatched in contrast to the steady beat from downstairs. It took seconds for my vision to refocus. When it did, I could see Dylan had turned to sit on the

side of the bed with his feet on the floor. He was slightly hunched, gaze on the floor, eyes dark and a little stormy. Welcome to the club. A tiny part of my libido wanted to celebrate that I’d made a dent in Dylan Cameron’s too-coolfor-school exterior. Too bad doing it had almost killed me. Dylan’s composure came back before mine. He turned his head to meet my gaze. “Well,” he asked in a coarse voice, “scientific enough for you?” I cleared my throat. “That was …” Hot as hell? The dumbest thing I’ve done in recent memory? “You definitely have the right … foundations.” My gaze fell to the bed at the intensity of his stare. “Foundations?” His voice caught on the word and I couldn’t tell whether he was going to laugh or groan. I coughed. Smooth. “Yes.” Forced my eyes back to his. Dylan’s eyes were still cloudy, but his voice had leveled. “Well, thank you for the advice. And the experiment.” He looked like he wanted to say more but got up. He paused at the doorway. “It was good catching up, Lex. Happy birthday.” Then he left. Studying was forgotten. I had a hard time getting to sleep. For the first time in months it wasn’t Jake I was thinking of. When I finally stopped tossing and turning, I dreamed of dark hair and dark eyes.

Hell. This was not how I’d intended to start the school year.

Get the rest of Lex and Dylan’s story in Schooled! Book 1 in a sexy and sweet series about best friends, big dreams, and the hot-ashell guys that get in the way. Keep reading now…