19. Chapter 19
Benson
I’m such an idiot. My conversation with Avery at the restaurant keeps running through my head as I lie in my hotel bed, keeping me awake though I’m desperate for some sleep.
I let my guard down, and she wiggled her way through the cracks in my shields and put me at ease in a way only she can.
What is it about this woman that makes me think I can be a different man?
My phone buzzes with a text, and shock jolts through me when I see that it’s Avery.
Avery:
Are you okay?
It is way too late for me to be texting her, but my thumb starts swiping out a reply. Stupid thumb.
Benson:
I’m fine. Sorry for the way I left.
Avery:
Is there anything I can do to help you get that client back?
Technically, I don’t know when I would have fit the client in to begin with, but I was going to try.
They’re big enough that they could push me into the next level and give me connections with other international companies, which is exactly what I need to grow my business into something self-sustaining.
But this particular client needs someone as soon as possible, so I would have had to cut my time with Rose I couldn’t have said no to joining her for dinner if I’d tried.
She makes it so easy to forget the reasons I should keep my distance, and talking to Avery is…
easy. It has been from the beginning. Everything about being around her is easy.
Benson:
I promise it’s not a big deal.
Avery:
Are you sure? Because if it’s going to make paying your rent difficult or anything like that, we can give you a bonus for helping us.
She’s worried about me paying rent? She clearly has no idea what people in my line of work make, but that also might mean she herself is strapped for cash and thinks everyone else is too.
But that wouldn’t make sense. I’ve seen what Rose & Quill brings in, and their numbers aren’t small.
It’s why someone like Phillip Rogers would be interested in investing in the first place.
I groan and roll over, folding my pillow in half to make it easier to see my phone.
Benson:
What is your salary, Avery?
Avery:
Huh?
Benson:
How much are you getting paid as CEO and Creative Director?
Avery:
I don’t see how this is relevant.
I try to picture where she is right now, if she’s sitting at her kitchen table eating that cheesecake I wish I hadn’t ignored or if she’s in bed, like I am. “Don’t picture her in bed,” I mutter to myself and type out a text.
Benson:
I can look it up when I get to the office tomorrow, but I’m going to guess it isn’t enough.
Avery:
We’re being cautious with our salaries.
She was cautious in Italy too, which is part of the reason I tried to buy her things whenever she seemed to be silently telling herself she didn’t need something she wanted. Which makes me wonder again why she thinks I might be struggling to pay my bills. She knows what I spent on her in Florence.
Benson:
One, you should be getting paid more, so that’s my first order of business tomorrow. And two, I live in a tenth-floor two-bedroom condo in the middle of Manhattan and have already paid off the mortgage. I’m perfectly fine.
Her response takes longer to come in than I’d like, but I use the time while I wait to see if I can log in to the R&Q spreadsheets on my phone.
It’s not the greatest setup on this small of a screen, but I can see enough to confirm Avery isn’t being paid what she should.
Thankfully, Eric’s salary is equally pitiful, though I half expected to learn he’s been paying himself more than what he’s giving her.
He may be an idiot sometimes, but he’s not a tool.
When Avery’s text finally comes through, I almost drop my phone in my effort to open it as quickly as I can.
Avery:
Right. I forgot you’re both rich and handsome.
I lift myself up on one elbow, staring at the words on the screen. “Avery Grace, are you flirting with me?” She called me out on my unintentional flirting at the restaurant, but this brazen compliment is new coming from her.
What am I supposed to do with it? Ignore it. That’s what I should do. But my thumb has other ideas.
Benson:
Like I said, I don’t need the Australian job.
That’s not entirely true, given I haven’t found any other international companies with the size and influence I need to expand my business, but I’m not about to tell her that.
Avery:
That sounds like a heist. Like The Italian Job?
Benson:
That’s why I’m so handsomely rich, obviously. Consulting is just a cover.
Avery:
Ah, it all makes sense now! Did I get in the way of the treasure you were going after in Florence?
Benson:
Who says I didn’t get her?
I curse as soon as I hit send and hope she doesn’t read too much into my response. Jewels can be referred to as ‘she,’ right? This is what I get for letting my guard down around this woman. My phone buzzes once, then again, and I’m almost too afraid to look.
Avery:
You says.
But if you ever decide not to be a stick in the mud, you know where to find me.
I stare at the words on the screen until my vision starts to blur.
She is…bold. Bolder than she was in Florence, where she let me take the lead on everything.
Sure, she got braver as the week went on, but she still went with whatever I planned for her, down to crashing the reception.
While she’s been pulling me into conversation and brainstorming at the office this week, she hasn’t openly flirted like this.
And I am finding this side of her a little too attractive. What is it about confident women that I can’t resist?
I can either shut her down, or I can play along, and I know which one would be more enjoyable. She knows this can’t last, so she knows any flirting I do is for the fun of it.
I groan. Does she know that? Things are different now that we’re not bound by anonymity and an end date.
She’s made it clear that our week in Italy meant more to her than what it was supposed to, so if Avery is flirting with me right now, it’s because she wants something to exist between us.
Something I can’t give her. If I give into the temptation she’s presenting right now and flirt back, there’s a high chance she’s going to end up hurt when I have to leave.
I should end the conversation here and go to bed. Hopefully to get some actual sleep. But the idea of shutting this down and being nothing but colleagues with this woman makes my chest ache, like I can’t breathe.
“That’s a good sign that this is a bad idea,” I mutter to myself, my stomach twisting as I type out another text. I’m going to regret this. But the screens and distance between me and Avery are making me feel reckless, and that feeling is not something I’ve ever been able to suppress easily.
Benson:
I think the real stick in the mud here is the woman who has been going to work at six in the morning.
Avery:
I was thinking about sleeping in tomorrow.
Benson:
No you weren’t.
Avery:
Well now I’m definitely sleeping in.
Benson:
I’ll believe it when I see it.
She doesn’t respond for a minute, during which I pull up the pictures I have of Avery because I haven’t been able to delete them, no matter how many times I tell myself I need to.
I’m already making a mistake by texting her late at night, so I might as well make things worse and get a reminder of how truly beautiful she is.
When Avery’s next text comes in, I stare at it for a long time.
Avery:
What do you do when you’re not at the office?
Obviously you hike, because you and Eric went up the canyon last weekend, but what else? When you left yesterday, did you go straight to your hotel room and binge watch reality TV? Or did you run an ultramarathon and go clubbing when you finished?
She’s doing the thing we avoided in Italy, asking for details. Instinct is screaming at me to get the heck out of here and put up the walls that have kept me safe for the last thirty-five years, but…
But the grass is so much greener on Avery’s side, and I won’t be able to see it if there’s a wall in my way.
I sigh and settle in, getting comfortable.
Benson:
Those are two very different choices.
Avery:
Curious minds need to know.
Benson:
I usually hit up the gym and read a book.
Avery:
I knew it!
Not the book part.
What are you reading right now?
I glance at my nightstand, where Dani’s romantasy novel is waiting for me.
I didn’t let myself dive back into it tonight because I knew I would stay up too late to get to the end, though at this point that argument is pretty moot because I’m not sleeping anyway.
Do I dare admit I’m reading a romance? I could say it’s to better understand the company and the book that pushed Rose & Quill into the big leagues, which wouldn’t be a lie.
But I’m also genuinely enjoying the storyline and the compelling way Dani crafted her characters.
I should tell Dani as much, but idiot that I am, I deleted her number that last night in Florence.
I settle on a different truth.
Benson:
I’ve been reading a lot of Sanderson lately.
Avery:
Fantasy? Really?
Benson:
Should I be offended by your shock?
Avery:
You don’t strike me as a fantasy guy.
Benson:
What kind of guy do I strike you as?
Avery:
The kind who reads self-help books and listens to podcasts.
Benson:
I do that too, but not when I want to unwind at the end of the day.
Avery:
Huh.
Huh . That’s all she says, which means I have no idea what she thinks about my reading preferences.
It only makes me wonder again about what might have happened if she and I met at a book club.
Eric caught her fancy without being a reader, so either she’s not a fan of fiction readers, which feels unlikely, given her choice of career, or there was something else about him that caught her eye. I wonder what it was.
Before I cave and ask, I type out a different text.
Benson:
It’s late. You should get some sleep, since we both know you won’t be sleeping in.
Avery:
Don’t tell me what to do.
For a second I worry I’ve overstepped, but then she sends a winking emoji.
But it’s the one that’s also blowing a kiss, and my breath catches in my throat.
I won’t pretend I’m fully versed in emoji language, but that one feels like it means more than a regular wink.
It’s flirty and bold, like she was at the restaurant tonight.
“Avery Grace, what game are you playing?” I mutter and try to figure out what I can say to that.
With my casual approach to dating and women in general, I rarely flirt over the phone, so this is out of my wheelhouse.
Giving up on any sort of a clever response, I search through the bank of emojis to try to find one that might work as a reply.
I settle on the “rock on” symbol, the one with the pinky and forefinger held up, and lock my phone before I get even more caught up in this conversation. It’s probably the wrong thing to send, but what else is new? I never have the right words when it comes to Avery Baldwin.