Austen Persuaded (Austen Inspired #2)

1. Chapter 1

S uccess! I cheered silently as my toes finally managed to snag the edge of the scarlet cropped cardigan tossed nearby. I dragged my foot across the smooth linen slowly and carefully until it reached my waiting fingers. My eyes slid to the right to see if I’d caused any stir.

The cardigan in hand, I frowned, realizing the hardest part was yet to come.

I needed to wriggle out from under his heavy arm, which was lying over my waist. Not cradling me but rather lying on me, as though I were part of the bed.

Indeed, I realized mirthfully, I was practically a fixture in this executive suite at the Four Seasons.

A half-seated position was all I could manage, but it was enough to slip the cardigan on over my ivory camisole while his thick arm still lay draped over me. But just as I was adjusting the sleeve, I felt a stir. Him.

“Brandon, I really need to…” I started, but his arm only tightened, his breathing still slow and steady. He was still out cold, but it was early. He’d probably dozed off last night as soon as we’d flipped on the movie—just as I had—after our late night on the town.

I smiled, letting my head sink back into the pillows.

Maybe the morning could wait a little longer.

“Just cancel, babe,” Brandon grumbled, trying unsuccessfully to reach out and tug me back as I giggled and stepped back.

Fully dressed now, I ran my fingers through my rumpled hair. “I would think you’d want me to show up to work, since I do, after all, work for you.”

“Ellen can wait.” He rose to lean on one elbow, his blue eyes sweeping over me lazily. “What’s she ever done for you anyway, babe? Besides giving you the assignments Viviana doesn’t want.”

My usually playful features settled into a frown.

Was he right? Sure, my copyediting workload had its share of boring legal and business books, but so did Viviana’s.

My friend and fellow freelancer had commiserated with me many times on the subject.

It was just the nature of the books the company published, as Ellen always said.

Then again, Brandon would know better than anyone.

He owned Bolder Publishing. Ellen was just the editorial manager.

“Brandon, hon, I’d love some career advice from you, but this is a conversation for another day. I can’t just not show up to a meeting.”

His cheeks dimpled as he grinned and reclined, displaying his sculpted arms over his head, undoubtedly for effect. “I could write you a doctor’s note. Dr. Bolder recommends lots of bed rest. Who could argue with that?”

I felt the corners of my lips tugging upward. He was sure of himself, but not in the condescending way of some men. He knew he was a 10. Maybe an 11.

We were exactly alike in that way.

I sauntered over to him. “I’ll make it up to you tonight after Ellen’s party.” I brushed my lips over his with a light hand resting on his chest and then, with strength I didn’t know I had, rose and headed to the restroom to freshen up.

I stared at my reflection, assessing the state of my tangled red hair and frowning slightly.

In truth, I felt annoyed that Brandon wanted me to simply skip a work meeting.

But just a bit. Whenever I found myself even slightly annoyed with him, I reminded myself I was looking too hard for flaws.

Because he must be too good to be true. He must .

Because Brandon Bolder was, as much as any man could be, perfect.

I'd certainly dated enough men who were the exact opposite—jerks, all of them, but they were fun—for so long I couldn’t even remember how long.

Four years.

Since him.

I ignored the tiny voice, barely even a whisper, in my mind.

Men were jerks, but they were fun. And that was fine. Fun was all I needed.

Brandon was fun. Maybe he was even more.

“I’m having a really hard time finding anything wrong with this one, Viviana,” I said as I sifted through my friend’s closet.

“He’s, he’s …” Unfortunately, my difficulty finding words was not only due to the topic.

As much as I’d tried to ignore it, I’d developed a nasty cough as the day had progressed.

“Your soulmate?” Viviana said, a wide smile on her face. “After all these years, you’ve finally found the one?”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the tiniest whisper in my mind reminding me that, once upon a time, I had found the one.

No, I hadn’t.

“That’s so cheesy, Viv. It’s not like 26 is so old. But I find that—” I paused, staring in the distance as intense eyes from the past stared back in my mind, against my will.

No, I’d never found the one.

A cough rose up in my throat. “Uh, Brandon, I find him so—” I started again hoarsely.

“So perfect?” Viviana flashed an indulgent smile, as we’d had some version of this conversation more than a few times before.

“I’m actually finding it hard to spot anything wrong with him too, I’ll admit,” she continued. She seemed about to say more, but after I sneezed, she gave me a motherly look. “Hey, don’t cough all over my clothes now. Are you feeling OK?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t start your worrying thing. Just a tiny cough, probably just a touch of hay fever.” I didn’t actually know what hay fever was exactly, but it was a common allergy, right? People had allergies in the spring, didn’t they?

“Annie, is Gregory coming?”

After blowing my nose as delicately as I could, I glanced at Viviana and grinned.

She wasn’t even trying to be subtle. She must have it bad for him.

“As if Brandon would go anywhere without him. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this, but he’s just as keen on setting up you and Greg as I am. Brandon speaks well of you to Greg.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize … well, then.” She looked away and laughed softly, though her warm brown eyes showed a touch of uncertainty. “I hope we live up to your expectations.”

“We? You’re speaking in ‘we’ now? That has to be a good sign,” I said with a grin as I sat next to her on the bed, outfit selection forgotten for the moment. “Tell me everything! I promise I won’t cough on you.”

Viviana didn’t speak at first and instead played with her wavy brown hair, and I frowned.

It wasn’t the first time I suspected she didn’t really trust me.

It was as though we weren’t truly friends on an equal level but were still mentor/mentee as we’d been in college.

I’d been a junior who still hadn’t chosen a major when we met, and Viviana had been in the master’s English program.

We’d become fast friends as she guided me through my newly declared English major and capstone, among other things. Things I’d prefer to forget.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell,” she said at last. “Gregory is Gregory. Rude, cold, but also unfairly hot.” We both laughed.

He was definitely all those things and probably worse.

He was a snob of the highest degree. But the hot/cold thing was kind of intriguing to her, I could tell.

And I couldn’t blame her—I’d probably be a bit smitten myself if Brandon hadn’t occupied all my thoughts lately. “It’s just—”

I didn’t hear the rest as I began to cough again.

Stupid, stupid cough.

I can’t be getting sick. I just can’t.

“Annie, are you sure you’re OK to go out tonight? I’m sure Ellen would be fine with you sitting this one out,” Viviana said, her brows furrowed as she searched my face, which likely featured a reddened nose and tired eyes by now. She picked up a water bottle from her nightstand and took a sip.

I scowled. “You’re changing the subject. You know, you’re not as good at that as you think you are.”

She nearly spit out her drink and laughed. “Well, maybe, but you really do seem ill. I am starting to worry about you.”

“I’ll be fine.” I walked back over to the closet, dodging the piles of clothes I’d discarded on the floor because they weren’t up to my party standards.

“I would press you for more deets, but I need to focus. I wish we had time to go shopping. You just don’t give me much to work with here, Viv.

And I— achoo! —I still have to do my hair, but we will continue this conversation later,” I warned.

If I was going to find the perfect dress for my friend in this dated, minimalist wardrobe, I was going to need my full concentration and creativity.

I sighed, looking again between the discarded heap and what remained in the closet before a series of sneezes overtook me.

Early on at the party, hosted at Ellen’s more than comfortable house in the neighboring city of Edina, Viviana looked increasingly concerned as my coughing worsened. She and Brandon traded looks before encouraging—no, commanding—me to go home.

“We haven’t even eaten yet,” I pouted, though I had no appetite. Honestly, I hadn’t been able to taste or smell food all day. Viviana was right; I was feeling progressively worse, and it was becoming harder to hide it. But I couldn’t bring myself to miss a party with my potential soulmate, could I?

“Annie, babe, I think Viv’s right. You should call it a night. You look …” When Brandon saw me blanch, he backtracked. “I mean, you look gorgeous as always, even sick, but you are sick. You should go home and get some rest.”

“Oh, I can't just abandon you. I’m fine!” I protested with all the feeling I could muster.

“You’re not, love,” he said. When he started lightly massaging my shoulders, I couldn’t think of anything but his warm hands. “Go home—I’ll bring you some chicken soup tonight after we’re done here.” His breath warm against my face, he added for my ears alone, “and maybe a real massage.”

It’s a good thing my face was likely already reddened from all the sneezing and congestion.

“Oh, if you insist,” I said, biting my lip to hide a smile.

I sighed and looked at Viviana, forcing the fuzzy-headed feeling to clear before I spoke.

“Be sure to keep Brandon company. Maybe if you’re sober, you can give him a ride to my place afterward? ”

Gregory appeared out of nowhere and offered to take Brandon home himself. “Brandon will be fine without you,” he barked. “Go home before you infect the rest of us.”

Although Brandon’s best friend was being a jerk as usual, Gregory was probably just protective of his friend. I ignored him and pulled Brandon close. “I’m going to miss you so much,” I whispered.

“Will you though? You’ll be passed out on cold medicine,” he said with a pouty expression and then chuckled. His hands roamed down my back until I giggled and pulled them away.

“Not now, hon. Germs, you know. We will have an epic makeup session when I feel better. Which will be tomorrow, if I have anything to say about it.” I wanted to kiss him but settled for a forehead nuzzle and stepped away reluctantly.

Sighing, Viviana mumbled, “Probably too late for that.”

“What—” I started to ask, but when I saw her glaring at Gregory, I shrugged. It wasn’t worth interrupting whatever was going on between those two.