16. Chapter 16
Avery
The earth rumbled underfoot, trembling and knocking loose rocks from the cave’s roof.
Mira tightened her hold on her blade, resisting the pull of magic that swirled through the air around her.
The sky, once gilded with sunlight, turned dark with storm clouds, and Mira’s knife began to glow in the sun’s absence, the only light left on the bloodstained battlefield.
“Don’t move,” Kael whispered, his words falling thick and heavy.
The gleam of Mira’s knife brought his battle-worn face into sharp relief as he stared at the cave’s entrance.
“If we move…” She didn’t need his warning.
Not when the earth shook again, this time with heavy footsteps.
Lungs heaving, heart racing, she gripped her knife and cursed her hands for being slick with blood and sweat.
She couldn’t afford to lose her hold. The blade was her only hope, and its light seemed to pulse in time with her breaths, growing brighter with each footstep.
The creature emerged all too soon, first its smoking snout and fiery eyes, followed quickly by a body of jagged scales and leathery wings, enormous limbs and deadly talons that scorched the ground with each step.
As it stepped into the howling wind, it turned that flame-cursed gaze directly on Mira, as if it knew she was the one who had awoken it.
It knew she was the only one who could conquer it.
The beast seemed to smile, and Mira’s knife glowed brighter, as if in defiance.
Kael’s hand slowly gripped hers as he looked at her with terror. “Don’t,” he begged. “Mira.”
But Mira had no choice. As much as she wanted to turn and run and never look back, this had always been her destiny. “I love you,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers before prying herself from his grip.
“No!”
She lunged, and the light from her blade exploded into a blinding arc that tore through the storm and—
A hand grabs my shoulder, and I shriek, head flying back and colliding with something hard. Eric reels back, hand pressed to his nose, and it only takes a second before blood starts dripping, bright and red and oh my gosh what just happened ?
I tug my earbuds out of my ears. I turned on some music in an effort to ignore the man sharing my office this morning and actually focus on work, and it clearly worked a little too well because I’m suddenly very aware of how loud my music was as the world goes quiet around me.
Well, almost quiet. Benson has a hand clapped over his mouth, poorly stifling laughter as he looks from me to Eric and back again.
“Eric!” I gasp, scrambling to grab some tissues and toss them at him. He’s moving to the far end of the room as if to put as much distance between me and him as he can, so the tissues float uselessly to the floor. “I’m so sorry! You snuck up on me!”
“He said your name like six times,” Benson says, still chuckling.
“This isn’t funny!” I snap, grabbing more tissues. This time I get out of my chair and bring them to Eric, though my stomach churns a bit at the sight of so much blood. Did I break his nose ?
Eric groans as he takes the tissues and wads them beneath his nose. “Phillip Rogers is here,” he says, his words coming out muffled enough that I’m not sure I hear him right. His wide-eyed expression makes me think I did.
“What?” I ask, tempted to creep down the hallway and see if I can get a glimpse of the lobby. “He’s here here?”
“Who is Phillip Rogers?” Benson asks.
Ignoring him, Eric nods. “He’s here ,” he confirms, which is nice because I’m still not sure I believe it.
“And he’s only here for like twenty minutes.
” He pulls the tissues away but quickly presses them back to his nose when he realizes he’s still bleeding.
Swearing, he glances at the door. “What do we do?”
I gape at him. “You’re asking me ? You’re the one who’s been sending him emails and calling his office for the last six months!
” When Eric first started reaching out to investors, I told him Rogers was a waste of time because he’s the kind of investor who notices legit companies, not makeshift LLCs who don’t know what they’re doing.
There was no way he would ever pay attention to us.
But I guess I was wrong? “Why is he here? And why is he only here for twenty minutes?”
Eric shrugs. “He said he was in the neighborhood and had some time to kill before another meeting. Go talk to him!”
Dizziness washes over me. “What?”
He gives me a little shove, thankfully with the hand not covered in blood. “This could be our only chance.”
“Only chance for what?” Benson asks, coming up beside me. He has his phone in hand and a web page pulled up with Rogers’s picture front and center. “Are you looking for investors? Why?”
“Because we need stability,” Eric hisses, dropping his voice to a mere whisper.
“And Phillip Rogers loves companies like us. He could put a lot of weight behind our name, and his money and influence would help us build better relationships with vendors and venues, even advertising agencies.” He looks at me again, his eyebrows dipping low.
“Avery, I can’t go back out there like this! ”
And I can’t go out there at all! This isn’t my area of expertise, and I am the last person who should be trying to pitch our company to a guy whose net worth is more than I can dream of. My sheer terror must be written all over my face because Eric’s shoulders drop in defeat.
“No.” The word comes out of Benson’s throat in a growl, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. “If this guy’s help is something you want, you can’t let this opportunity pass you by.”
The only reason I’m not crying right now is because my whole body feels like it’s shutting down. “I…I don’t… I can’t…”
“Just show him the presentation you showed Sonny yesterday,” Eric says, and then he’s gone, rushing to the bathroom and leaving my office silent except for the whoosh of my blood pulsing through my ears.
I might pass out.
“That presentation wouldn’t even convince my parents to invest in us,” I whisper, shutting my eyes tight as if that might shut out this situation.
My panic rises, leaving me dizzy. “How is it supposed to convince Phillip Rogers? I’m going to mess this up and scare him off and we’re going to run out of money and Dani’s going to hate me because no one will be able to read her book and—”
“Avery Grace!” Benson’s gentle shout cuts me off, bringing my gaze to him.
His lips are pursed, his brow furrowed, and when he realizes he has my attention, one of his hands rises to stroke my hair.
The gesture feels so familiar that it hurts, and I stare at him like I’m seeing him for the first time.
“Will you calm down? If you’re half as passionate about Rose & Quill as you were about random architecture in Florence, then you’ll be fine.
Tell Rogers why you love this place, and he’ll have no choice but to want to join you. ”
Easy for him to say. Benson is the kind of guy who oozes confidence, and I doubt he’s ever felt unsure of himself. “I don’t—”
“Come on.” He grabs me by the elbow and starts dragging me out of the office and into the hall.
I fight him, grateful that the lobby is offset from the hallway and hiding me from view as I struggle, but I can hear Lynda’s soft voice conversing with a rich, masculine baritone. “I can’t!” I argue. “This isn’t my area of exper—”
“This is your company , Avery. No one is more expert than you.” Benson groans quietly when I dig in my heels, turning to glare at me. “You didn’t hesitate to try the lampredotto,” he says on a breath. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“That was cow stomach,” I whisper back. “This is my career . My whole life!”
“So don’t abandon it!”
Fear and guilt and worry all mix in my stomach, leaving me queasy and wondering if I’ll be next to rush to the bathroom. But Benson takes advantage of my weakness and tugs me forward, hard enough that I fly past him and stumble into the lobby.
Phillip Rogers stops mid-sentence, looking from Lynda to me with his eyebrows high.
He matches his picture, a solid man with a solid dark beard peppered with gray.
He’s wearing a bird-patterned button-up shirt, dark-washed jeans, and Vans, which isn’t what I would have expected from a businessman of his esteem, and his casual attire suddenly makes him feel much less intimidating.
“Miss Baldwin, I presume,” he says, and the British lilt of his smooth voice is almost soothing.
He is not at all what I expected.
Benson nudges me from behind, breaking me from my surprise.
“Yes!” I squeak, holding out my hand. This is my company.
I’m the expert. I can do this. I’m not sure I believe my inner thoughts, but I do my best as I say, “It’s so nice to meet you.
Unfortunately, Eric got tangled up in something, but I don’t want to waste any more of your time.
I know you don’t have much to spare.” I gesture to the door to the balcony, where we keep a table and chairs for moments like these.
When we get outside and settle at the table, I realize Benson has followed us, so I reluctantly make the introduction.
“Um, Mr. Rogers, this is Benson West. He’s…
” Should I say he’s here to help us build our business, or would that interfere with Rogers’s interest?
Eric would know the answer to that, but he’s too busy bleeding.
“I’m an old friend of Eric’s,” Benson says, grasping Rogers’s hand in a firm handshake.
He sits next to me, far too close for my comfort because it’s already difficult enough to concentrate without his fresh scent filling my nose.
“I’m in town for a few weeks to help maximize the marketing strategy of Rose & Quill in the coming years and ensure the company establishes themselves as a strong contender in such a competitive market. ”
Rogers lifts a thick eyebrow. “An outsider?” He clearly doesn’t approve.