Chapter 8
Avery
By the time Avery finally shut down her laptop, the office was nearly empty.
The clock read six-thirty. Quinn had stayed until six. That surprised her. And honestly? She’d seemed fine. Professional. Quiet. She’d asked good questions, took notes, didn’t hover, didn’t try to take over. Just watched. Observed. Listened. And looked unfairly sexy doing it.
Every time Avery glanced up from her desk, Quinn was there. Hair smooth and neat, pen gliding across her notebook, legs crossed under the table, focus razor-sharp. It was infuriating. And distracting.
Avery spent half the afternoon reminding herself that staring wasn’t productive, and the other half wondering if Quinn was thinking about last night too.
When she got home, she kicked off her heels and went straight to the kitchen. She poured a LaCroix into a stemmed wineglass and collapsed onto the couch. Netflix, Hulu, Max. Scroll, scroll, scroll. Nothing stuck.
She was mid-debate between Bridgerton and a murder doc when her phone buzzed.
Ally: Got time to talk?
Avery smiled despite herself. Exactly the distraction she needed.
Avery: Yes. Call now.
Moments later, her phone lit up with a FaceTime ring. She answered and grinned at the familiar sight, her little sister sitting cross-legged on her bed, hair up in a messy topknot, an oversized sweatshirt swallowing her frame.
“Ally. What’s up?” Avery asked, tucking her legs under her.
Ally hesitated for half a second, then blurted, “I really like them,”
Avery blinked. “Them?”
“Daisy,” Ally said quickly. “They use she/they pronouns, but I found out they actually prefer they/them. Their family isn’t ready to use it yet, so they let both slide. But I….yeah. Daisy.”
Avery’s smile spread. “Oh, I love this already.”
Ally groaned, flopping backward on her bed. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting. I’m listening. Go on.”
Ally peeked up at the camera. “We’ve gone out twice since Saturday. Coffee first, then dinner last night. They’re funny, Av. Like, easy to talk to. I didn’t even check my phone once. But I don’t know… I’m kind of scared to like them.”
“Because of Sam?” Avery asked gently.
“Yeah,” Ally admitted. “That breakup just… took a lot out of me. I don’t want to rush into something and screw it up. Or worse, get hurt again.”
Avery leaned her head against the couch cushion. “You’re not screwing anything up by liking someone. You’re allowed to have good things, Ally. You just have to give yourself permission to let them in.”
Ally smiled faintly. “Says the woman who hasn’t dated anyone seriously in what, two years?”
“Wow,” Avery said dryly. “Coming for me on a Wednesday night?”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Avery took a sip of her drink. “But for the record, you’re right. I haven’t been ready. I think Brit kind of ruined that for a while.”
Ally’s face softened. “Well, I mean it’s normal to feel a little defeated when your girlfriend of years cheats on you and leaves you a note breaking up with you.” She sighed. “But she didn’t ruin you. She just… made you forget what it feels like to trust people for a bit.”
Avery exhaled. “You’re getting way too wise in your old age.”
“I’m thirty-one. That’s not old.”
Avery laughed. “You’re still the kid who thought eyeliner was a personality.”
“Yeah, well, look at us now,” Ally teased. “Talking about our emotional damage and pronouns.”
“Progress.”
For a moment, they just smiled at each other. Then Ally leaned forward. “Okay, your turn. What’s going on with you? And don’t say ‘work,’ because that’s not a personality either.”
Avery hesitated, swirling the bubbles in her glass. “You remember that woman I told you about? The one from the bar?”
“The really hot one you slept with and then discovered was trying to buy your company?”
“That would be the one.”
Ally’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my God. What happened?”
“Well,” Avery said, “we may have… done it again.”
“Avery.”
“I know,” she groaned. “I know. It was a terrible idea.”
“And?” Ally prompted.
“And it was…” Avery trailed off, rubbing her temple. “Hot. Stupid. Complicated. She’s impossible to read, Ally. One minute she’s all business and bullet points, and the next she’s—”
“Making you lose your mind?”
“Something like that,” Avery said, smirking despite herself.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Avery sighed. “She’s shadowing the company this week. She’s actually… good at it. Smart. Polite. Doesn’t overstep. And when she talks business, I—” she stopped, shaking her head. “I hate how much I like listening to her.”
“Sounds like you’re into her brain as much as her suit,” Ally teased.
“Don’t make it sound romantic.”
“It doesn’t have to be. But maybe it’s not just sex either.”
Avery frowned. “It can’t be anything, Al. She’s literally trying to buy Lilith. There are ethics. Boundaries.”
“Boundaries you’ve already crossed,” Ally pointed out. “Twice, if I’m counting right.”
Avery groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
“You love me.”
“Debatable.”
Ally’s grin softened into something gentler. “You’re not broken, Av. You’re just scared. Maybe this thing with Quinn isn’t supposed to make sense yet. Maybe it’s supposed to shake you up a little.”
Avery sat quiet for a moment, staring into the fizz of her drink. “She definitely shakes me up.”
“Then maybe stop pretending you don’t like it,” Ally said. “Just… be careful, okay?”
“I will.”
“Good. Because I’d like to meet Daisy but not have to console you within the same week.”
Avery smiled. “Deal.”
They talked for another ten minutes, about work, Daisy, their parents until Ally’s phone battery dipped into the red. When the call ended, the apartment felt too quiet again.
Avery set her phone down, sinking deeper into the couch. Her chest felt both lighter and heavier, like talking about Quinn had clarified things and complicated them at the same time.
She stared at her reflection in the black TV screen, lips curving into a rueful smile.
She was in trouble and for once, she didn’t know if she wanted to fix it.
* * *
By Friday morning, Avery had nearly convinced herself she was fine.
The week had gone by without incident. Mostly.
She and Quinn had settled into professional distance.
Polite hellos, efficient handoffs, nothing personal.
They hadn’t been alone together since lunch on Wednesday.
Every meeting had been buffered by Gabby or a team lead, and Avery hated how careful they were.
She hated how good Quinn looked standing across the room, cool and unbothered, taking notes like she wasn’t the same woman Avery had had on her knees four nights ago.
She hated that every time Quinn leaned over to look at something on a monitor or asked a quiet question during a presentation, Avery’s body reacted like professionalism was a language it refused to speak.
So when Gabby breezed into her office at nine sharp, two coffees in hand, Avery was grateful for the distraction.
“Good morning, Av,” Gabby said, setting one cup down on the desk before lowering herself into the chair across from her. “Your lifeblood. Vanilla oat milk latte, extra shot.”
“Thank God,” Avery replied, wrapping her hands around the cup. “If I have to hear the phrase cross-functional synergy one more time, I might actually combust.”
Gabby’s mouth curved slightly. “Quinn?”
“Who else?” Avery said, taking a sip.
“She does love her jargon,” Gabby said, settling back in her chair.
“She loves control,” Avery muttered.
Gabby gave a small shrug. “That too.”
She crossed one leg over the other and pulled her tablet onto her lap. “Alright. Before she heads back to L.A., let’s just check in. How did the week actually go?”
Avery leaned back in her chair. “It was fine. She was fine. Stayed in her lane. Asked smart questions. The team didn’t hate her. The devs actually think she’s funny.”
Gabby huffed a quiet laugh. “That tracks.”
“Don’t,” Avery warned, narrowing her eyes.
“I’m not praising her,” Gabby replied calmly. “I’m looking at how she operated in our space.”
Avery watched her carefully.
Gabby tapped her pen lightly against her tablet. “From what I saw, she wasn’t disruptive. She didn’t try to override anyone. She observed. She asked. She listened.”
“She was calculating,” Avery said.
“Probably,” Gabby agreed evenly. “That doesn’t automatically make it bad for us.”
Silence settled between them for a moment.
“We don’t have to decide anything today,” Gabby continued. “I just don’t want us reacting emotionally to something that deserves a strategic review.”
“It’s not emotional,” Avery said, her tone sharper than she intended.
Gabby lifted a brow but kept her voice even. “Then strategically, we wait. We review whatever she sends. Numbers. Structure. Terms. If it doesn’t work, we say no and move on. If it does, we evaluate.”
Avery stared down at her coffee. “I don’t want to report to her.”
“That’s valid,” Gabby said. “Then that becomes a negotiation point. Or it becomes a deal breaker. But we make that call once we see the full picture.”
Avery rubbed at her temple, exhaling slowly.
“We built this to last,” Gabby added, her voice steady. “Whatever protects that long term is what we look at. Not pride. Not chemistry. Longevity.”
Avery gave her a look. “You sound like my sister.”
Gabby smiled faintly. “Then maybe she’s reasonable.”
“I hate that you’re calm about this.”
“I’m not calm,” Gabby said, standing and smoothing her skirt. “I’m cautious. There’s a difference.”
She paused at the door. “Just don’t close the door before you know what’s behind it. That’s all I’m saying.”
Avery nodded once, though her jaw was tight.