3AsherThe Offer
Asher
The Offer
“Are you sure you’re not having an Asher Moment?” asked Harper, and Ash grinned.
“Entirely possible. But hear me out.”
“OK, sure,” said Harper, taking a sip. She sat up straight and tried to look tough, which was adorable on a level equivalent to smol cat videos.
“You got me out of that party and into this drink, so you have bought yourself enough rope to hang yourself. Lay it on me. What kind of crazy did I just attach myself to?”
He looked around the bar. The strands of old-fashioned light bulbs glinted off the copper ceiling panels, giving a warm glow to the scene.
The bartender was checking his phone. The rest of the patrons were cozy in their own booths.
No one was close enough to overhear him.
His now daily sense of paranoia eased down slightly.
“I need a girlfriend for work. I need someone who will be in my corner but won’t need all the fluffiness of actual dating. I need a party partner, but I do not have the time or inclination to put effort into a relationship right now.”
“Nope, still sounds crazy. What exactly is your job?”
“I put together investment packages for new PhDs.”
Harper made a confused noise. Ash paused to take a sip and recalculate his explanation. Most people he knew worked in finance and understood what he was doing. Or they were his brothers who nodded at appropriate times but didn’t give a shit.
“OK, backing up. I started my firm while I was in college. I was getting an MBA. Mason was the TA for my advisor—that’s how we met.
But I was hanging with a bunch of guys in the STEM fields, and I realized that while they were off the charts smart about their fields of research they didn’t always have good advice when it came time to launch their careers.
There’s DARPA where the government will abuse or bury their research.
There’s big pharma who will crush your soul.
And there’s going to work for the University that’s already patenting all of your inventions. ”
Harper made a face. “Those don’t sound like good options.”
“Depends on what you want to do. But behind door number four is the start-up route. But start-ups take capital. They need investors and someone who doesn’t just know the tech but knows how to run a business.
And that is where I came in. I didn’t want to run anyone’s tech start-up, but I knew how to connect people.
I knew what licenses they needed to pull, what software they would need, and what kind of contractors they would need to hire.
And with Mason’s help, I started putting together start-up packages.
I invited Mason to partner up with me when I started the business, but he’d just gotten engaged to Stephanie, and starting a brand new business was too risky for the Van Lankens, so I went solo. ”
“You’re a start-up incubator,” said Harper. She relaxed onto the green velvet of the seat as the faint sounds of jazz buzzed in the background. Her dress melded with the shadows, but her skin glowed in the lights. T
“Yes,” said Ash, as he cleared his throat and took a drink. He liked the quiet atmosphere here. He hadn’t remembered it as being so romantic. Of course, usually, he came with Mason. “It’s a system that makes money for everyone—including me.”
“I don’t see how that means you need a girlfriend. Why did you break up with Emma anyway?” asked Harper, looking puzzled.
This time, Ash felt confident in his answer.
“Irreconcilable differences. Turns out her definition of the truth is different from mine.”
“Ouch. But, well, breakups happen. Why does anyone care?”
Ash paused as a waiter walked by and wondered if he should have tried to have this conversation someplace more private.
“For one thing, she’s Van Lanken and no one breaks up with a Van Lanken.”
“What’s a Van Lanken?” asked Harper, leaning closer to him and resting her chin in her hand.
“I love you so much right now. Maybe we should skip dating and just get married.”
Harper shook her head, disbelief all over her face.
Across the room, a group of women laughed uproariously at a story one of them was telling.
It was one of the reasons Ash liked the bar.
It always seemed more like a hang-out for friends than a date night spot.
He clung to that impression and tried to keep his eyes off Harper’s lips.
“The Van Lankens are one of the twentieth-century robber baron families that built railroads and libraries or some shit. You’ll see their names on buildings and histories of Congress.”
“Doesn’t that just mean that they killed a bunch of immigrants, bribed some politicians, and paid loads of money to get their names over a door?”
“Uh... Yeah, that’s what it usually means,” said Ash, who hadn’t previously thought about it like that. “But they’re related to the Roosevelts, Vanderbilts, and everyone who has shaped politics for the last century and a half.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that being so inbred you could be classified as a sandwich is really a plus.”
Ash froze with his drink halfway to his mouth and tried to decide whether to laugh or gasp in shock. “Are you sure you don’t want to get married?”
“I’m concerned for your mental health. Why does being married to me sound appealing?”
“Because then I could follow you around and watch you traumatize people with the truth. It would be hilarious.”
“You can do that without a ring.”
“Legally, though?”
Harper chuckled and took a sip, her eyes twinkling over the rim of the glass.
She was beautiful, but she clearly didn’t get what dating a Van Lanken meant to his social sphere.
She would never agree to his plan if she didn’t understand the need.
Ash looked for the right words. This was what he was good at.
“Ever since I broke up with Emma, everyone treats me like I’ve gone insane.
I didn’t realize it then, but there was the perception that I had the old money seal of approval and the deep pockets that go with that.
For the record, their pockets aren’t that deep—old money runs out eventually.
And maybe I could ride it out, but I’ve got a couple of big projects dropping soon, and for the first time, I’ve been asked to vet the purchase of a firm with the US government.
I know that doesn’t sound big, but I’m not a lawyer, and I had to go through some base-level Top Secret Clearance bullshit to even get on the team.
Also, I’m pretty sure my brother had to swear on a stack of Bibles and the Marine Corps handbook that I’m not a terrorist.”
Harper looked confused.
“My older brother was in the Marines. He owns his own Security firm now. But the point is, now is not a good time for people to think I’m not with it.”
Ash didn’t add the part about industrial espionage. He could not afford for anyone to know about that, and while he was crazy enough to ask Harper to fake date him, he wasn’t crazy enough to reveal the company-sinking secret to a near stranger.
“But short of posting my financial records online and getting a letter from a psychiatrist swearing that Asher Valkyrie is totally sane, there isn’t much I can do to convince everyone that the company is fine.
Investors are a finicky lot. I can’t afford the aura of instability. I need to look normal.”
“Valkyrie... Wait a minute... Your brother owns Valkyrie Development?”
“Yeah! That’s Forest. He builds stuff. My oldest brother Rowan is Valkyrie Security. They provide security for businesses and people.”
Harper stared at him, her expression puzzled. “Um…No?”
“No?”
“That is not factually accurate.”
Asher didn’t think anyone had ever told him he was being inaccurate about his own family before.
“Yes. Those are their companies.”
“OK, well, I don’t know about Valkyrie Security, but Valkyrie Development does not just build stuff.”
“I drove past three job sites with his banner on them on my way here, and he was talking about a new tunnel contract thingie last time we went out.” He thought.
Possibly. There had also been a lot of drinking, delicious donuts, and passing out at Rowan’s.
It had been a brotherly attempt to cheer him up from his breakup.
It had worked. Mostly. Except for the hang-over and the fact that he hadn’t told them the truth about why he’d broken up with Emma.
But there was no way he could tell Rowan what had happened after Rowan had vouched for him with the FBI.
Harper facepalmed herself. “That project already has a documentary crew following it. It’s going to be on World’s Biggest Builds. He’s importing the drill heads from Germany, and they will come through the Panama Canal because they’re too big to fit on a plane.”
“Oh.”
That was a different order of magnitude from putting up some houses. Ash hadn’t realized that Forest was working on an international stage. No wonder Forest seemed so stressed these days.
“My firm did the Emergency Plan for the job—it’s a showcase project on their website. It was one of the reasons I thought they would be cool to work for and why I moved here.”
“So you moved because of Forest,” said Ash, trying not to feel incredibly jealous. Asher loved his brothers. But for once in his damn life, he would have liked to have been the cool one.
“Well, it was one of the data points on my spreadsheet. It wasn’t the one that beat San Diego, but the chart I made showed...” Harper trailed off, blushing. “I mean... I just... I like spreadsheets,” she muttered and took a quick drink.
“I bet your spreadsheets are the prettiest.”
“They say I use too much pink,” said Harper.
Ash felt like a cog had clicked into place. This was now a negotiation.
“I see now what the problem is. I should have prepared a PowerPoint on the advantages of being my girlfriend.”
“No!” exclaimed Harper, looking alarmed. “I don’t need PowerPoints to be your girlfriend! I’m not that much of a nerd!”
“But a spreadsheet would have helped, wouldn’t it?”
Never ask why. Why made people defensive. Always ask what.
“What should I have put in my presentation? You should know that I will feed you and give you bribes. Post-it Notes and erasable highlighters, for instance. Or one of those tablet things that translate handwriting into text.”
He’d talked too much. He should have let the question hang. The silence would have convinced her to answer.
“Your bribe offer is organizational office supplies?” Harper asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know you want them,” said Ash challengingly, leaning closer. He was certain that he was right. Girls who liked spreadsheets always needed erasable highlighters.
“That is not the point,” she said breathlessly. “And this is ridiculous. You can’t just offer me gifts to be your girlfriend.”
She was having trouble with the idea. Ash needed to normalize it.
“Lots of people do it. There is a shocking amount of quid pro quo in rich people dating. Dating a Van Lanken was eye-opening in that regard.”
“I’m not a rich person,” said Harper sternly. “I date people because I like them.”
“But this isn’t dating,” said Ash. “It’s going with me to lame parties and pretending that you’ve been my girlfriend for at least a month and that I always buy you everything.”
“Asher!” Harper protested, laughing.
“Seriously, I’ve got a party, two fundraisers, and one networking social next week. I need to make an appearance at each of them for about an hour.”
“That’s something nearly every night of the week,” said Harper, looking shocked.
“I know! It’s horrible. It’s very difficult to be an introvert when I keep having to see people. I don’t like it.”
“But I don’t like it either!”
“Of course not! But if we were together, I could say I had promised to take you someplace more fun, and then we could leave early!”
He could see that the appeal for sympathy was working, but he needed more. He couldn’t double down on sympathy without sounding pathetic. He needed something that appealed to her practical side.
“I bet your firm is billing you out at, what? Two-fifty an hour? Then there’s the weekend—that’s time and a half. I should be paying you at least twelve hundred a week. And I would because it would be worth it to me, but Indeed won’t post job listings for a girlfriend.”
Laying out the figures made Harper look surprised and then thoughtful. She didn’t date for money, but money had some appeal.
“But honestly,” he added with a smile, “You’d be doing me the biggest favor. What can I do to make you change your mind? I really would buy you whatever you wanted.”
“Anything I wanted?” Harper’s voice wavered and went up a notch.
“Yes. Diamonds? Whatever bag is the bag these days?” There was a sarcastic note in his voice and Ash knew he’d misplayed it by the frown that pinched Harper’s eyebrows.
She wanted something, but she wasn’t about status symbols.
She definitely wasn’t Emma. He consciously corrected his tone and went for something funny.
“How about a pony? I can’t do unicorns yet, but I’ve got a guy who’s working on it.”
“What?”
“Pretend I didn’t say that last one, but I think you want something. What is it?”
Harper took a nervous breath and a big sip of her drink.
“Um…What about cash?” Harper’s voice wobbled and she looked like she was moments from crying. Whatever she was about to say was stressing her out.
“That too,” said Ash, he sensed he was close to closing the deal, but he was puzzled. “How much do you need?”
Her hand was shaking around her glass. He wanted to scoot around the table to hug her. Whatever it was, she didn’t need to be that nervous about it.
“I need ten thousand dollars,” she whispered, and he tried not to laugh at the minuscule amount.
“Absolutely,” said Ash, nodding and holding out his hand. “It’s a deal.”
“A deal?” she repeated, staring up at him with those doe-eyes. “Oh. No. I think I drank my drink too fast. I can’t...”
“Yes, you can,” said Ash confidently. “We’re going to have a great time, and your ten-grand problem is going to disappear.”
“No one will loan me the money,” she whispered.
“I’m going to give it to you, no strings attached,” he whispered back. “Why do you need it?”
Her hands fluttered nervously around her glass, but she finally got the words out.
“I accidentally lost someone’s engagement ring.”
“Eee,” said Ash, making a sympathetic face. “And it never got found?”
“No. And they spent twelve grand on it. I gave them some already. But I need ten grand to make it go away.”
Harper was a nerd. An adorable, fashionable, gorgeous nerd, and someone was making her miserable over a stupidly small amount of money. That annoyed Ash. He was going to fix it. And possibly also spoil Harper rotten while he was doing it.
“Ten grand, post-it notes, and a tablet thingie. Smoak and Ash – the dynamic duo. Done.” He held out his hand again, and Harper tentatively put hers into it.
“Done,” she repeated.