Chapter Eleven
Humming from his office to the elevator, Avery punched the button to Nick’s penthouse suite. Everything was falling into place, and he’d be damned if he let his brother’s cranky-ass summons fuck up his good mood.
Leaning against the back wall, he crossed one booted foot over the other and checked his phone.
He hadn’t heard back from Jo—she was probably still sleeping—but tomorrow morning, he’d pick her up, they’d share a light breakfast, then meet one of Linc’s associate realtors to inspect the first property on his list. They’d make a day of it, ending at his place to follow through on last night’s phone fun.
She’d been perfect, and just what he needed.
His energy was up, his mind sharp. He’d slept hard and woke up early, ready to tackle whatever Nick planned to throw at him.
And with the Whitaker numbers finally adding up, putting the acquisition back on track, he was sure it would make up for whatever he’d done that warranted a trip to the principal’s office.
But as he stepped off the elevator and into the dark foyer, his good vibe took a hit. Nick had revamped the entire penthouse, erasing Julie from his life and replacing the light airy space with ebony tile and ash-colored wallpaper. Even the ceiling was gray.
Fucking depressing. No wonder he’s always in a bad mood.
He’d barely touched the bell when the door whooshed opened.
“Come in,” Nick called out.
“Hey,” Avery said as he entered the cavernous living room, sterile and designed much the same as the foyer but with touches of chrome and glass to reflect natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows.
His feet slowed. On the other side of the room, Nick stood like a sentinel guarding the narrow passage between two black leather sofas. Marcus and Spencer sat on one of them.
He’d just walked into a fucking ambush. “What’s up?”
Show no fear. He’d learned that as the baby of the family with three older brothers. Marcus was usually on his side, but it looked like he’d joined forces with the enemy. At least for today.
Nick gestured to the unoccupied sofa. “Sit down.”
“Good morning to you, too.” He flopped onto the one facing his brothers, sank low, and propped his feet on the glass-top coffee table. “I found the problem with Whitaker. The new figures should be in your inbox.”
“I’ll take a look.” Nick tossed something at him.
Avery caught it on reflex and glanced at the flash drive resting in his palm. “What’s this?”
“A dossier on Jo.”
“A what?” Avery’s feet hit the floor as he sat up and waved off the explanation Spencer opened his mouth to offer. He knew what a fucking dossier was. “What gives you the right to dig into my personal life?”
“Because everything you do, everything we do”—Nick pointed at himself and his brothers—“affects Preston Enterprises.”
“Jo has nothing to do with the company.”
“Since the shit show we went through last summer with one of our employee’s involvement in Ben Reese’s schemes, I quit taking chances. Dave Hardy is investigating all new employees and anyone doing business with or getting close to the family.”
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
The information on the drive might offer better insight into what made Jo tick, but the invasion of privacy made him feel like shit. He’d rather get to know her on his own, to peel away layers to reveal the softer woman inside that tough outer shell. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
Spencer cocked a brow. “Is it?”
Wary, Avery asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Nick answered for Spencer, “you’ve never shown interest in anyone past a few hours, and suddenly, you’re bringing Jo home to meet the family.”
“Mom invited her. What was I supposed to do?” Avery cringed inwardly at his defensive tone.
Marcus leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “So, you’re not serious about her?”
Sinking back against the couch, he shrugged. “We’re…having fun.”
“That’s a relief,” Nick said, his voice growing deadlier with each word. “For a minute there, I thought you were doing something stupid, like hiring her to be your plus one to keep Mom off your back.”
A shock of cold washed over him, his skin tingling with betrayal. They knew. How could they fucking know? Only the Sigmas—
Bryce. But not directly. “Was it Kate? Did she tell Melody?”
If Jo found out the girls knew, she’d back out of the contract with Charlotte. Pride would demand it. And she’d never forgive him.
Spencer shook his head. “The girls don’t know.”
“And we want to keep it that way.” Marcus’ warning landed like a velvet gauntlet, soft but with an edge of reckoning.
“Then how did—”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out.” Nick slashed a hand at Avery. “She was fired the night of the engagement party. Hardy said it was because of some incident with you in the back of a catering van in the fucking parking lot, for Christ’s sake.”
Avery’s gaze swung from one brother to the next. “Nothing happened.”
Three sets of brows shot up.
“I mean, yes, I’m responsible for getting her fired, but nothing happened in the van. She actually shot me down.”
Nick folded his arms across his chest. “Then why are you paying her ten thousand dollars every time she attends an event with you?”
“What the fuck?” Avery jumped to his feet as a tidal wave of anger rolled through him. “You accessed my accounts?”
“No, I accessed hers,” he said as if that made it better, “and there’re three deposits for ten K that align with your dates. It’s all on the drive, along with a background check and a family and criminal history.”
Criminal history?
“She’s clean, by the way.”
“I could have told you that.”
“But now you know for sure.”
Avery drove his fingers through his hair and began to pace. “This is fucked up.”
“No more fucked up than what you’re doing,” Spencer snapped. “When I told you to find a girl to throw Mom off the scent, I didn’t mean hire one.”
“I’m trying to help her build her fucking business.”
“Which is honorable, but—”
“Don’t fucking patronize me.” He spun to face his brothers, pointing the flash drive at them.
“Since you know so much, I guess you know she lives in a shit neighborhood, in a shit apartment that was broken into the night she got fired. She drives a shit car. And she still said no when I first offered to pay her. I don’t know what happened to change her mind, but I’m sure it was something equally shitty.
As for the money, she asked for ten thousand for five weeks.
” He jammed a thumb in his chest. “I’m the one who changed that, so fuck off. It’s my fucking money.”
Spencer and Marcus looked at each other.
“So you’re not just having fun with her?” Spencer asked. “Or using her to deter Mom?
“What?”
“You actually like her.” Marcus’ brows rose in disbelief.
“Well, yeah. She’s smart, funny, talented, pretty.” And sexy as fuck. “What’s not to like?”
And what the fuck does me liking her have to do with anything?
“No, I mean you like her-like her.”
Wait, what? And what are we, ten?
“If that’s the case,” Spencer jumped in, “why would you fuck it up?”
Marcus swiped a few screens on his phone and handed it to Avery. “It’s all over social media.”
Avery looked down at the screen, and a blast of dread froze the air in his chest, its icy fingers seeping outward and chilling him to the bone.
The image staring back at him was damning.
It was taken the night before at Pulse when he was talking to Blaze.
The girl between them had just offered to fuck him.
Her hand sat on his leg. His hand covered hers. The whole scene reeked of intimacy.
The lead on the story was just one more loose pebble in the crumbling cliff he clung to. Is the Fairy Tale Over?: Guess Cinderella’s Shoe Didn’t Fit.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Melody is ready to rip you a new one,” Spencer said.
“Charlotte, too,” Marcus added. “And I swear if Jo bails on her because you can’t keep your dick—”
“I gotta go,” he breathed. He needed to get ahead of this before Jo saw it. Yet his feet were frozen to the floor.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Nick countered. “We have to figure out how we’re going to spin this.”
Avery turned on him, anger burning away the shock. “You had your chance to strategize.” He took a step forward. “You fuckers ambush me and wait until now to drop this bomb on me? I—” He shook his head. He was wasting time. “Fuck you all.”
Dropping Marcus’ phone on the couch, Avery shot toward the elevator. He had to get to Jo.
God, Jo.
This was exactly what she’d asked him not to do. To be fair, it was before he agreed not to fuck around. Not that he had, and not that it mattered.
The picture of them together at the library benefit had gone viral, and social media had painted a romantic tale of her as his girlfriend. This goddamn picture would make it look like he cheated. She’d look like a fool. She was gonna be pissed.
He swung back around and jabbed a finger at Marcus. “You’re the fucking PR Specialist. Get that shit down. I don’t care what it costs.”
Outside the elevator, he slid the drive into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and paced the gloomy foyer that mocked him. He’d thought nothing Nick would say or do would wreck his good mood. Hell, he didn’t need Nick to do that. He’d fucked up all on his own.
How the fuck was he going to explain this?
It’s not what it looks like?
He scoffed. She’d never believe it.
And yet that was the text he fired off to her.
The messages he’d sent earlier showed as delivered with read receipts. This one failed to deliver. His gut twisted, tighter, sharper with every second that passed. By the time he reached the parking garage, he knew he was fucked.
She’d fucking blocked him.
****
“When are you going to unblock him?” Brooke fingered the petals of the first bouquet of roses to hit Jo’s doorstep this morning.
“I dunno.” Jo stuck a sheet of white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies in the oven and set the timer. “Maybe after he’s done a little more groveling.”