Chapter 3 #2
Gabby had talked her into taking the meeting in the first place.
As the COO she was the ‘business’ side of the company, she knew she would never sell, but Gabby seemed to think that there was a point in taking this meeting, at least to just hear whoever this was out, so Avery had let her run with it.
“Just see what they say,” Gabby told her. “No commitment. Just information.”
Avery had agreed. Reluctantly. But her gut already knew the answer. She wasn’t fucking selling. Not to some anonymous tech shark with a sleek pitch and a checkbook the size of their ego.
She hadn’t spent two years pouring her blood, sweat, and actual tears into this app just to hand it over. Not after everything had it cost her. The sleepless nights, tweaking the code when she couldn’t get it just right. The holidays spent debugging. The breakup that shattered her mid-launch.
Her fingers hovered over the trackpad for a moment before she opened a folder titled Investor Decks. Not because she was prepping to pitch, she wasn’t, but because if she was going into that room tomorrow, she wanted to be sharp. Armed. Unshakable.
Avery believed in what she built. Believed in love. Still. Even after Brit.
Even after waking up one morning ten months ago to find a note on the counter and an Instagram post 48 hours later of Brit on vacation with a 21-year-old poli-sci major named Shayla.
Six and a half years. Gone like it meant nothing.
But Avery still believed. In love. In second chances. In something real.
That’s why she built Lilith. And no fucking tech mogul with a golden pitch deck and a smile built for boardrooms was going to take that away from her.
After nearly an hour of reviewing her numbers, tweaking a few projections, and angrily scribbling the word hypothetical across the top of her notepad, Avery finally shut her laptop with a sigh.
Even if she could calculate a fair offer for her company, it didn’t matter.
She wasn’t selling. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
Still, the tension in her shoulders was impossible to ignore.
She stood, stretched her arms over her head, and decided to take a long shower, wash her hair, and start getting ready for drinks with the girls.
Something about a hot rinse always helped her transition out of work mode and into human mode.
But as she was walking toward the bathroom, towel in one hand and her favorite lavender hair mask in the other, her phone rang.
Her heart skipped, which was ridiculous.
She hoped it might be Quinn. But she knew it wasn’t, because Quinn didn’t even have her number.
She glanced at the screen anyway, hopeful, but it was Ally. Her sister.
“Allison,” Avery said dryly as she answered the call, pressing the phone to her ear.
“Wow. We’re choosing violence today?” Ally’s sarcastic voice came through the line. “You full-named me like I’m about to get grounded.”
Avery grinned, sinking onto the edge of her bed. “Hi, sister. What are you doing?”
“So… hypothetically,” Ally started, dragging the word out.
Avery immediately braced herself, rubbing her forehead. Nothing good ever started with hypothetically. “Yes?”
“If I created a profile on Lilith… would you be able to see all my matches and conversations?” Ally asked.
Avery couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. God, she loved her baby sister. Ally was three years younger than her, thirty-one and a chaotic bisexual tornado in the best possible way.
“No,” Avery said as she walked into the bathroom, flipping on the shower. “I mean—I could, technically. I have backend access. But user privacy is a top priority on the app. Even for annoying baby sisters.”
“So… you wouldn’t snoop?” Ally asked, teasing.
“I haven’t yet,” Avery shot back, leaning against the counter. “Are you finally on Lilith?”
“Maybe,” Ally said lightly.
“You match with someone?” Avery pressed.
“Maybeee.” Ally’s voice went guilty and singsong, not really trying to hide it.
Avery rolled her eyes and laughed. “Al. Is this a short call or a long call? I was about to get in the shower and I need to know if I should put you in the waterproof case or not.”
“Long-ish,” Ally admitted. “Take me in with you.”
Avery nodded to herself, popped her phone into the shower case she kept mounted for audiobook marathons and gossip emergencies, and stepped into the steam.
“Alright,” Avery said, adjusting the water temperature. “What’s her name?”
“Daisy,” Ally said. Then she launched into the full backstory. They’d matched a few weeks ago, had been texting constantly, and were finally meeting for dinner tonight. Ally was half-convinced Daisy wasn’t real, but everything checked out. And apparently, she was hot.
Avery laughed through shampoo, conditioner, and exfoliation, tossing in sisterly advice while scrubbing behind her ears.
“And what about you?” Ally finally asked once she paused for breath. “How was your night?”
Avery smirked, leaning her forehead against the cool tile wall. “You want the PG version or the I’m going to regret telling you this version?”
“Oh, come on,” Ally urged. “You owe me.”
So, she told her. Not every detail, but enough. She told her about meeting Quinn. The suit vest. The bar. The hotel. The fact that it was probably the best sex of her life.
“Jesus,” Ally said, laughing. “And you didn’t even get her number?”
“It was just sex,” Avery insisted, reaching for her towel.
“Mm hmm,” Ally hummed knowingly.
By the time Avery stepped out of the shower, they were both giggling like they were in high school again. They said their goodbyes, promising to FaceTime soon, and Avery padded back into her bedroom, towel-wrapped and glowing.
She pulled on a soft black tee and high-waisted jeans, ran a brush through her long dark hair before curling the ends lightly, and tossed on a leather jacket.
Her eyeliner was perfect on the first try, a miracle, and by the time she grabbed her keys and bag, she felt like herself again.
And maybe just a little giddy. She was ready to see her girls.
Birch and Vine at seven. Let the interrogation begin.
* * *
Avery walked into Birch and Vine just after seven, the familiar hum of soft jazz and clinking glassware greeting her like an old friend.
The space was warm and dimly lit, all exposed brick and vintage wine posters, with a vine-draped chandelier swaying gently overhead.
Her boots clicked against the wood floors as she made her way toward the back corner booth where her friends were already waiting.
A glass of red wine sat at the empty spot they’d saved for her, condensation beading at the stem like it had been poured only minutes ago.
Of course, they knew her order. A charcuterie board was spread across the table.
Thin slices of prosciutto and salami, wedges of brie and sharp cheddar, bunches of grapes, Marcona almonds, and little ramekins of fig jam and grainy mustard.
That was when it hit her. She hadn’t eaten a single thing all day.
“Avery Franchesca Rossetti,” Gabby announced as Avery slid into the booth, one perfectly manicured brow arched in mock judgment.
Avery mirrored the expression, setting her bag down beside her. “Gabrielle Yael Cohen?”
“You’re late,” Gabby scolded, though her tone held more tease than heat.
“By three minutes,” Natalie cut in from across the table, already defending her as she reached for her wine. “Leave her be.”
“Yeah, and Noella isn’t even here yet,” Andrea pointed out, popping a grape into her mouth and gesturing toward the empty seat.
Gabby huffed dramatically. “Noella is always late.”
“And I’m only three minutes late,” Avery said, shrugging out of her coat and draping it behind her. She reached for her wine. “Ally called. She was filling me in on this girl she has a date with tonight. She met her on Lilith.”
Gabby gasped dramatically, her wine glass frozen halfway to her lips. “She’s on Lilith? Wait, do we know her match’s name so we can stalk?”
“We do,” Avery said with a smirk, reaching for a cracker and loading it with sharp cheddar, pepperoni, and a dollop of jam. She took a bite and sighed. “God, are we eating eating? Because I just realized I forgot to eat today.”
“Yeah, all I had was a protein shake and a granola bar at nine,” Natalie said, grabbing a piece of brie and shoving it onto a slice of apple. “I’m not sitting through dinnertime and not ordering food.”
“Agreed,” Andrea nodded, setting her glass down. Then she leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully. “But wait, Avery, if you were too busy to eat, does that mean.” She let the implication dangle, a wicked glint in her eyes as she looked between them.
Avery swallowed, then nodded solemnly, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. “Yes. I had sex all morning. And then promptly passed out like the dead.”
Andrea snapped in approval with both hands, while Gabby clapped softly like she was proud. Natalie let out a low whistle.
That was when Noella rushed in, slightly out of breath, sliding into the open seat. “Hi, sorry, sorry. I got caught on the train.” She looked around the table. “What did I miss?”
Gabby turned to her immediately. “Ally’s on Lilith.”
“And Avery had sex all morning,” Andrea added.
“With the mysterious bar girl,” Natalie chimed in, grinning.
Noella blinked once, then twice. “Okay, wow. I miss one glass of wine and everything happens.”
Avery laughed, shaking her head as Noella reached for a piece of prosciutto. “It’s been a day.”
They ordered entrees, flatbreads and pastas, plus a few sides for the table, and the conversation flowed as easily as the wine.
Avery told them everything. Not every detail, but enough.
Okay, a lot. About the way Quinn looked when she walked into the bar.
About the flirting. About the kiss. About the hotel. And yes, about the sex.
She blushed once or twice, but mostly she beamed. Her friends listened and laughed.
“Wait, what did she say before she kissed you?” Andrea demanded.
“Did you at least make her work for it?” Gabby added.
“Did she stay?” Natalie asked, softer than the others.
They interrupted and demanded more specifics, and when it was her turn to sit back and listen, she realized how good it felt just to be here. Wine in hand. Stomach full. Heart light.
It was a night of warmth and laughter, easy friendship and good food, the kind that steadied her, and for the first time in a long time, Avery felt something loosen inside her. Not hope exactly. But something that could turn into it.
* * *