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Authors: Kristen Luciani

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BOOK: Venture Forward
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“I slipped off my board, and it knocked me unconscious. Luckily your brother was there to rescue me.”

Evan sipped his beer. “So you saved her life. Nice work, man. The world would be a lot drearier without her in it.”

Avery grinned. “That’s very sweet.”

“Yeah,
so
sweet.” Paul scowled at Evan, earning a triumphant smirk in return.

“So why are you still hanging around with him?”

“To repay the debt.” A dimple appeared as her lips curled into a smirk. “In the form of free consulting hours.”

That dimple, a perfect complement to her gorgeousness. Fuck, how could she be so incredibly sexy and adorable at the same time? “It’s only fair. Besides, you didn’t have any interest in my other, more
entertaining
, alternatives.”

Thick eyelashes fluttered over the liquid pools of blue gazing back at him. “Darn self-respect always gets in the way of my fun. I suppose you’re not used to hearing that from your other
entertainment
options, hmm?”

Such presumption from those glossed lips. Christ, they enticed him. They looked so soft, so inviting. He’d all but sell his soul to feel them wrapped tightly around—

“I’ve rendered you speechless, huh? Tell you what. I’ll give you a few minutes to think of a good comeback.” Avery gulped down the rest of the champagne and dropped her voice. “Don’t disappoint me.”

His groin sprang to life again as he considered all the ways he’d love to do anything
but
disappoint her. Every sway of her hips in that just-tight-enough skirt made his cock twitch. Time to reposition the tablecloth before it resembled a teepee.

“Ouch.” Evan snickered. “Seems like the lady has your number, bro.”

And there it was, the reality that could reverse the physical effects in two seconds flat.

He’d made a fortune working in finance. It was very black and white. You either had the right answer, or you didn’t. If you did, you could make a fortune. If you didn’t, you were screwed. But women? Gray. Very fucking gray, which was exactly why he didn’t do relationships. Who needed the headaches? But, much as he wanted to deny it, deep down he wanted Avery to be the exception.

“I told you there isn’t anything going on between us.”

Kearney sipped her wine, her voice increasing in volume. “You’re full of crap. It’s so obvious you’re into her. Why can’t you just admit it?”

“Sorry to disappoint you. It’s platonic.”

“Liar!”

“Nope, truth.”

“We’re not blind, sweetie. There were enough sparks flying at this table a few seconds ago to put a Fourth of July fireworks display to shame. Deny it all you want, but you’re delusional.” Kearney slid out of her chair. “I’m getting more wine.”

Paul grimaced at Evan’s amused look. “Please, just don’t, okay?”

“I don’t know what your problem is. She’s hot, smart, and successful. What more do you want?”

“You know I don’t do relationships. And she’s not the type to be a—”

“Fuck buddy?”

“She deserves more than that. Besides, I’m not exactly her ideal romantic companion. Or did that escape you too?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What?”

“You want more than what you have. And it’s not one-sided, either.”

“Are you cracked? You just heard her say—”

“I think you’re way off. She’s into you. Why the hell else would she be here right now, battling the Spanish Inquisition otherwise known as Kearney? For an autographed book?”

“I have a lot of crap to deal with right now. It’s not the best time to get involved with someone.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the articles. How are you handling it? What does A.J. think?”

“He told me to suck it up, that the gossip will eventually die out. In the meantime, my employees are panicking about their jobs.”

“Understandable. You think they’re overreacting, right?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to inspire confidence, but it sucks. Shit’s really hitting the fan. We’ve lost bids on some companies because of this garbage. They’ve actually opted to go with other venture firms, even though we pledged more seed money. That just doesn’t happen.”

“Why don’t you let your publicist set up some interviews about all the work you’ve done with BreakOut? That should help. Show the world how much of a philanthropist you are. Maybe it’ll diffuse some of the gossip. You can’t fix everything on your own. It’s okay to ask for help.”

“No it’s not, and I’d never do an interview under these circumstances. My success should speak for itself. I don’t have to respond to this crap. Let people believe what they want.”

“You’re thinking like a stubborn ass right now, not the owner of one of the biggest venture capital firms in the country. There’s a lot at stake, and you—”

“Look, I can handle this. I’m aggravated as hell, but I’ll figure out how to fix things. I just can’t lose any more investments. It’ll cause too much negative publicity. If I can at least keep things status quo, we can ride it out.”

“Let me know if I can do anything. I’m here to help, if you can swallow your pride enough to ask.”

Kearney appeared, armed with another glass of wine and a Stella Artois for Evan. “You crack into Fort Knox yet?”

“Nope. You wanna try?”

“Actually, I’m going to get myself a drink. I’ll leave you two alone to strategize. Sound good?” Paul bee-lined to the bar in search of something a hell of a lot stronger than champagne. Thanks to the sudden turn in conversation, he was no longer in need of a tablecloth.

“Something certainly has your knickers in a twist. Although, as I recall, you never really left them on long enough to get to that point.”

Paul froze, a tight grip on the highball glass the bartender had just handed him. The voice chilled his insides. How the fuck had she found him?

His eyes narrowed as he slowly turned. “You’re back.”

Rochelle laughed and flipped her long blonde curls. “I couldn’t possibly stay away any longer. Did you miss me?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, it just so happens I’ve taken my career in a new direction, away from all the cattiness of the tabloids. I decided to apply my skills to the literary world.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard? I’m leading the PR effort for Steve Fuller’s new novel. Isn’t that exciting? And to think I’d see
you
here.” She trailed a finger down his arm. “It’s been way too long, don’t you think?”

“Not nearly.”

“You shouldn’t be so quick to walk away. Maybe I’ve changed.” A nasty smile appeared on her ruby-red-painted lips.

“Maybe so, but I sure as hell haven’t. Stay out of my business.”

“Or what?” Gone was the syrupy sweet voice. Venom spewed from the proverbial viper’s mouth. “Where will you banish me off to next? That is,
after
you use me to get what you want?”

“Trust me, I have no intention of being anywhere near you again.”

“I don’t know about that. Call me crazy, but I’m thinking our paths are going to cross again
very
soon. I hope you’re ready.”

 

 

CHRIST ALMIGHTY, WHAT THE
hell had she been thinking, shooting off her drunken ass mouth like that? Insisting she wasn’t interested in him and then basically offering herself up on a platter. No mixed signals there! So much for abstinence…

But Avery had an itch… one that desperately needed a good scratching. That sexy fuck-me grin made all her apprehensions dissipate into thin air, until it dawned on her that the itch wasn’t the issue. Realistically, anyone could satisfy
those
carnal needs. But she didn’t want just anybody. She wanted him, the one who was sure to give her the ride of a lifetime and then shatter her heart into smithereens, because sex was the only dish on his menu. Allegedly, anyway.

After a glimpse in the restroom mirror, she pulled out an eyeliner and reapplied the black kohl, smudging it for a smoky effect. The alcohol had grabbed hold of her sensibilities faster than she’d expected. But when it came down to taking action, would she?
Could
she?

A quick glance at the phone confirmed her suspicions. Tina was in the absolutely-definitely-fucking-A-
yes
corner.

Just go for it. Tell him you want to be more than friends. Jump his bones already and stop making excuses!

Avery sighed, dropping the eyeliner back into her makeup bag.

It wouldn’t mean anything to him. He gave glimpses of being relationship-worthy, but then the walls went up. It would just be about sex.
The next thought jolted her from the champagne-infused fog. She wanted more.

The lounge door swung open, and Rochelle Harrison strolled in, a look of surprise masking her perfectly made-up face. The girl seriously looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Avery swiped a wand over her lips to refresh the slick gloss.

“Avery! How are you? Isn’t it crazy that we’re running into each other at a book launch, of all places?” Rochelle giggled. “And it’s not yours.”

Steve was published through Yardley? How the hell had she missed that? “This really isn’t the place to discuss it. You know I can’t be associated with—”

“Oh, stop worrying. We’re alone in here. And your secret is absolutely safe with me.” She pulled out a Chanel lipstick and smoothed it over her puckered lips. “I saw you with Paul Emerson earlier. I didn’t realize you actually knew him. Your concerns about all the book publicity make sense now.”

“Y-yes, we’re colleagues. I’m consulting on a project for him.”

“Interesting.” Rochelle looked into the mirror and fluffed out her curls. “So the irony isn’t lost on you, then.”

“I’m, um, not really sure what you’re getting at. I mean, I don’t even know him that well. Like I said, it’s only this one proj—”


Really
. And yet here you are together at a party. Or is it all part of that one project?”

“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business. I told you, the book is fiction. The media is barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps they see things very clearly. Just saying.” Rochelle tapped a pink-lacquered fingernail against her cheek.

“I already told you—”

“Your dealings with Paul Emerson are your business. I’ll keep on top of the media so things don’t spiral out of control.” She turned to leave and paused, her hand on the door handle. “Just keep in mind, the road to success is often paved with unanticipated casualties.”

Avery’s mouth grew so dry she could barely choke out the next words. “Please make this stop. I don’t want any casualties. It’s a
novel.”

“The tabloids can be pretty vicious, but Yardley stands to reap great rewards with increased interest in your story. It’s a business, after all. You of all people should know that. Have fun tonight.” With a final toothy grin, she disappeared.

Palpitations warned of an impending panic attack. Paul, Rochelle, Steve, Yardley,
Paul
. This was all hitting way too close to home for her liking.

 

BOOK: Venture Forward
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