NSFW Page 18

  He crossed the room in a few short steps, hanging his jacket on the back of one of my wooden dining chairs. Then he approached the boxes. Laid a hand on one; tilted to inspect behind the first stack.

  “Did your grandmother have a lot of assets?” he asked as he turned back to me.

  I stared back blankly. “I don’t think so. It was her and my grandfather, but he died a few years earlier.”

  “Did she keep good records?”

  My heavy feet carried me toward him and the boxes. “If it’s black, that’s good, and if it’s red, that’s bad, right?”

  Avery’s face grew more serious. “I can take a look at the financials.” I didn’t respond, and after a moment he added, “If you want.”

  I crossed to the kitchen and lifted a shoebox stuffed with papers. A stack of envelopes was tied to it with an elastic band. “Plus six weeks’ worth of mail. Apparently she stopped opening it a while ago.”

  Avery blew out a breath, his face a mask of concentration. “You’ll want to start with the will.”

  I went to my desk and pulled out the envelope, handing it to him.

  He glanced at the folded sheets of paper inside. “Everything went to you.”

  “I don’t want it,” I said vehemently. “I don’t want any of it. We were supposed to go to New York.”

  He watched silently. I was talking like a crazy person, but I couldn’t change it.

  “Grab a chair,” he said at last.

  “Why?”

  “Because this—” he waved a hand at the boxes “—is going to take a while.”

  One file after another was dumped on my dining table in what could have passed for the Mount Everest of paper.

  I pulled myself together enough to help. Helping meant filing the things in the way Avery suggested.

  When my stomach growled, I ran out to get dinner while Avery continued, his back straight as he sorted sheets into piles for savings, social security, debts, and investments, and entered numbers into the calculator app of his phone.

  The “good thing,” said Avery, was that there was life insurance. He’d made the thirty-minute phone call while I’d sat in the next chair, staring at the documents spread out on the table and tidying them into neat rows.

  I had a hard time processing…any of this.

  What I could process was how much of a machine he was. How methodical. His ability to take over, to know what needed to be done… If I’d had the capacity to feel, I would’ve felt grateful.

  By the end of the day we had a binder full of materials that were tagged and color-coded using swipes of the pink, purple, blue, and silver nail polishes I’d pulled out from the bathroom.

  “We need this checked by a probate attorney. I’ll call a school friend.”

  I shifted back in my chair, stretching one arm and then the other.

  He shifted a hip against the table. The blue polo stretched across his chest and arms, and I wished I could appreciate it.

  “You should get some rest,” he said finally. I trailed him to the door. “If you need a day or two off work, take it. I’m sure Rose can fill in.”

  “Thanks.”

  Avery’s gaze met mine, and the emotion in it was more than I was prepared for. Especially after what’d hit me for the last forty-eight hours.

  “Something happened Friday. Before you walked out.”

  I folded my hands in front of me. Studied the nail polish I’d been picking at last night and today.

  “I had this idea.” The idea that we were more than fuck buddies. More than the rules we’d made. I swallowed the words as I lifted my gaze to his. “It was a stupid idea.”

  “Was it.” He studied me levelly.

  “Yes. I don’t want to be your cautionary tale, Avery. Not with your sister or anyone else. I know what it’s like to want more from someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

  I didn’t want sex. I wanted him here. His sturdy, confident presence and the way it filled the room. The blue gaze that felt like he could see inside my head.

  “Charlotte…”

  “I’ll see you at work, boss.”

  He nodded once and pulled the door after him.

  I glanced at the phone I’d muted while we were working.

  The voicemail blinked up at me. With a steadying breath, I checked the number.

  The funeral home. To “release” her.

  Emotion hit me like a wave.

  When I jerked the door open, he was halfway down the stairs. “Avery.”

  He turned back, laying a hand on the railing. His gaze filled with concern and questions.

  “I know this isn’t what you signed on for.” My voice shook.

  He took a step up the stairs.

  “We said no feelings. No complications.”

  Another step.

  “But I can’t breathe.” My eyes filled, and I pressed my hand to my throat. “I can’t even…”

  He reached the top step. Avery’s arms opened, and he pulled me into them as my legs gave out.

  I crumbled against his body. I pressed my face against his shirt as we sank to the stairs. His hands found my hair, not playing, just holding, and my grief tore through me like a storm.

  26

  It’s Not about Power

  I blinked my eyes open. I was on the couch.

  Avery’d put me there after I’d cried until I couldn’t.

  I pushed off the pillow I hadn’t remembered tucking under my head and sat up. It was late. Avery must’ve slipped out without me seeing him.

  Except his shoes were by the door.

  The window to the fire escape was open. I stood, padding across the floor to the window and leaning my head out.

  “You’re here.”

  Avery took a drag on his cigarette before turning to me. “You’re awake. How are you.”

  “Better.” I raised a brow. “What about you? You don’t usually carry those around.”

  “It’s been a rough couple of days.” I crawled out to sit next to him, and he braced his arms on the railing.

  “Your meeting with Redpath,” I realized. In all the chaos I’d forgotten. “What did he have to say?”

  “They’ve had a recruiter looking externally for potential hires for the director role. The committee’s decided I’m not ready for the promotion. It’s over.”

  He shifted, putting out the cigarette and placing it carefully next to him. There was a garbage dumpster in the alley below, but he didn’t toss it. Like he didn’t want to forget he’d smoked it.

  Something pinged dully in the back of my head. News that’d come in yesterday after I’d left.

  “Maybe not.” I hit ‘forward’ on the email that’d come to my personal account.

  Avery lifted his phone, a question on his face as he clicked into email. Then his expression froze. “Wait. This is my program.”

  “With a few enhancements. Riley said one of his guys was able to code in the changes you wanted. It might not look pretty, but it works. Which means—”

  “I can show Redpath there’s an accountability trail. And if he’s true to his word, there’s no reason I can’t test it this week. Before my review. And before they decide about the director job.” His blue gaze met mine. “Charlotte. This is a game changer.”

  I kicked my feet over the edge, noticing the neon orange of my toenails against the gray and brown of the alley below.

  “I don’t understand why you’ve spent all your time as an assistant. You could’ve moved up by now.”

  “I hate it,” I said. “The politics. The old boys’ club. It’s bullshit. I know you get along in what whole world just fine, but some days it’s all I can do not to scream.”

  “So what will you do when you leave.”

  “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t fit in at Alliance, but I don’t know where I will fit. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever fit in anywhere.”

  Avery’s gaze darkened. “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid to decide what you do wa
nt. Because then you’ll have no excuse not to go for it.”

  “Stop it,” I blurted. Avery stiffened next to me. “I can’t do this. You. Here. Talking like you know me. Like we’re together.”

  “You don’t want me here.” The hurt in his voice only made it worse.

  “I want you everywhere, Avery. When you’re with me, I’m happy. When you’re not, I wonder where you are. And that’s the problem. Because we’re playing office or house or whatever the hell you want to call it, but we’re really nothing.”

  Avery reached for another cigarette. Tapped it on the railing a few times before setting it, unlit, next to the other one.

  “Charlotte, you don’t wake up one day and decide not to spend your life with someone. You know the only secret to success I’ve learned? Have one thing that matters. One goal, one prize. Anyone who gets in the way is the enemy. When you start to care about people, you get distracted. More than that, you get weak. And then you end up sabotaging the very things you swore meant the most. I’ve watched it happen. Hell, I cleaned it up. Relationships are messy. Someone’s strong, someone’s weak. It’s not worth it, and it sure as hell isn’t fair.”

  I considered my grandparents. “What if they don’t have to be a power struggle? What if it’s not about being equal? It’s not about each of you individually, but how you are together.

  “It’s like…” I glanced at my toes. “You mix red and yellow and you get orange. More red and less yellow just makes a different shade of orange, but it doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful. It still works.”

  Avery’s blue gaze searched mine. “You really think that’s true.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s better than spending your life alone, isn’t it? I mean, it gets lonely at the top. Maybe that’s what happened to Hollister. Maybe he wasn’t a selfish asshole. Maybe he just wanted someone.”

  His conflicted expression broke my heart.

  Movement on the sidewalk caught my attention. I shifted to get a better look at the old woman holding the hand of a small girl with red hair. The girl tugged her back, squatting by a tree to point to something at the base.

  “I want to do something for her. To honor her. We were supposed to go on this New York trip, but now…”

  He shifted beside me, standing and holding out a hand. “I have an idea.”

  27

  We’d Have Fun Trying

  “Where should we do it?”

  “Staten Island Ferry.”

  “Hmmm. Something more public.”

  “Radio City Music Hall.”

  “Meh. Wait. I’ve got it.”

  Twenty minutes later, I was in Central Park with the least likely person in the world.

  Avery strode alongside me, wearing tailored shorts and a polo and sunglasses. My flats padded lightly on the asphalt.

  “She told me stories about her and my grandfather coming here. I think they used to make out in the bushes,” I said as we made our way to the section call the Ramble. “It reminds me of Sleeping Beauty. Some princess in the castle in the woods.”

  Avery glanced around. “You want to do it here?”

  “Yes.”

  I took out the box that contained some of my grandmother’s ashes. The rest I’d saved for my family, whenever I saw them next.

  This had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, I felt a little foolish.

  I cleared my throat. “Grams. You’ve been there when no one was.” I felt Avery’s gaze on me. “I’m not ready to let you go. And maybe you weren’t ready to leave. But we’re parting for now. Thank you. For being just what I needed, when I needed it.”

  I dumped the ashes I’d brought.

  I’m not sure what I’d expected—that they’d flutter down like fairy dust. The breeze did pick them up, sweeping some past us. Others coated the shrubs.

  “Hmm. Not as elegant as I’d expected, but I think she’d appreciate the sentiment. Is this even legal?” I mused.

  “Absolutely not.” Avery put an arm around my shoulders as we walked back through the park.

  “This was a really good idea. Thank you.”

  “You already had the trip booked.”

  “I’d cancelled the hotel. And I can tell you it wasn’t the Ritz-Carlton.” He’d reserved the place without asking and had ignored my protests when I found out. For once, I was grateful for his high-handedness. “Are you sure this isn’t coming out of Kenna’s tuition?”

  “We’re good. You’re not the only one with some savings in the freezer.”

  When Avery had suggested last weekend on my fire escape that we keep the trip, I’d thought he was crazy. But I’d called the airline, and, given the situation, they were willing to transfer the ticket.

  Avery and I’d spent the morning wandering around Manhattan looking for just the right spot. It had felt good to carry her around. Almost like she was there with us.

  “You almost done in the bathroom?” he hollered through the door after we’d made our way back to the hotel.

  I turned off the dryer. “Almost. You can’t rush this.”

  “The show starts in an hour.”

  “Have you ever known me to be late?”

  “Yes.”

  I opened the door to find him facing the other way. My hand still on the door, I waited for him to turn around.

  It was worth it.

  Avery’s handsome face froze. It looked like he’d choked on something, and I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my mouth.

  “I’m going to hell,” he pronounced.

  “Why?”

  “Because this trip is about your grandmother, but I’m not thinking about her right now.”

  The dress was the color of red apples. It had wide straps and was scooped at the neck. My nude strappy heels made my legs look longer, and my curls had been straightened and pulled back into a high ponytail.

  I trailed a hand down his chest. Avery wore a crisp linen suit that made him look like a royal on vacation.

  I forced my gaze to him. “Hey. I want to thank you. For this weekend.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Oh. This wasn’t the thank you. I was just introducing the topic. I’m thanking you after the show. Explicitly.” I leaned in and grazed my mouth over his ear.

  “Damn it. You sure we need to see this Kinky Boots thing?”

  “Yes.”

  We managed to get to Times Square and into the theater. We talked the whole time, falling into the easy rhythm we’d seemed to have found lately.

  At the theater he held the door for me and gave me his jacket when I was cold. By the end we trailed out, laughing.

  “You seriously liked it,” I questioned. “You didn’t just want to score points so you can get in my…boots?” I teased as we set off down Forty-Second Street.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m getting inside you later.”

  “Good thing you’re cute.” I snuck a look out the corner of my eye. “Look at us. Here in the big city. We should commemorate it.”

  An idea struck me.

  “Wait here.”

  I ran into a tourist shop and bought a red and white ball cap that said “I Love New York” on the front. I stuck it on Avery’s head.

  He stared back at me. “So what was really in that G&T you ordered back at the theater?”

  “Don’t move. I’ll be back in five minutes. Ten max.”

  “Charlotte…”

  “Trust me!”

  I dashed into the hotel at the edge of the street.

  With a ten-dollar bribe that turned into twenty-nine when I explained my request to the clerk, I got two minutes on a west-facing balcony in the empty penthouse.

  “Where the hell were you? I was starting to think you’d abandoned me,” Avery griped when I returned a few minutes later.

  “Oh, it’s worth it. Look!” I showed him the picture with the crowd. “It’s like Where’s Waldo. Only it’s you.” He studied the picture for a moment, then his attention turned to me. “Did yo
u find you? Oh, come on. Don’t give up. You have to—”

  My voice was cut off when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him.

  The only thing better than kissing Avery? Kissing Avery in Times Square, surrounded by bright lights and chirping crowds and the feeling that anything is possible.

  The last week had been an emotional rollercoaster, but this? Being here with him? It felt right.

  “So let’s hear this thank you,” he said when we returned to our hotel half an hour later.

  “Sure. It actually has two parts.” I produced a box from my luggage and unpacked it on the king-sized bed.

  “What the hell is… Poker?” Avery frowned. “You got dressed like that to play poker?”

  I grinned. “We’re playing strip poker.”

  Avery’s gaze went hungry again, and he looked down my body. Taking in my one-piece dress and lack of shoes. A cocky grin pulled at his mouth. “Duchess, you’re going to lose.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  I dealt out the cards and we played the first hand. He lost and stripped off his shirt.

  The next hand, I took off my dress.

  Underneath I had a slip.

  Next went his pants. My second slip, which I’d put on for exactly this reason. His sock. And the other one (which I’d argued were one item).

  The next hand I lost.

  Avery studied me. “You can’t have fit another damn thing under that hot as fuck dress. Let’s see it, Merriweather.”

  I rose from the bed and pulled the slip over my head.

  His gaze devoured me as I stood in my orange lace bra and panties. I’d bought them this week thinking of him.

  “This, right here.” He swallowed. “This might be worth everything you’ve ever done to me.”

  He lost the next hand. He almost didn’t play it, he was so busy scanning the rise of my breasts over the bra, flicking to the silk between my thighs.

  “I’m waiting, Waldo.”

  Avery’s finger hitched in the top of his boxer briefs. With a disgruntled sigh, he tugged them off. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

  But my attention was lost on his cock, which was already lengthening between us.