Venture Forward (13 page)

“Maybe it was a convenient excuse to see her again?”

James shot Chris an exasperated look. “Lay off. It’s none of your business. Paul, just give us a call about the next meeting, okay?” He grabbed Chris by the arm and pulled him out of the room. “Why don’t you go say hello to your fiancée?”

Paul stared out the window. The last thing he needed was to get wrapped up in someone else’s problems. Christ only knew, he had enough of his own.
But it was futile; walking away was no longer an option.

“
WE HAVE GREAT NEWS
for you. Take a look at
this
!” Carly pointed to her monitor.

“The New York…
Times
?”
Fuck. “You told me this was near-impossible for a first-time author.”

“I know! But all the buzz propelled it to the top. The bestseller list is based on volume. You’ve gotten the attention of national publications, both online and print. Sales are skyrocketing, all thanks to those silly little venture capital tabloid articles. Who would have thought that techies notice anything
not
written in binary?”

Avery stared at the screen. There it was.
The Monster on Sand Hill
by T.A. Powell. But it was a mistake! She didn’t mean any of it!

Carly scrolled through her iPhone screens. “Requests for interviews are really pouring in now.”

“I told you I can’t—”

A loud knock made her jump, and a gorgeous blonde appeared in the doorway. “Avery Hunter! It is such a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh.” She descended upon Avery like they were long-lost relatives. “I’m Rochelle Harrison, head of your PR team.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she shot a glare at Carly. “Um, as I was saying
,
I need to keep my real name under wraps.”

Rochelle waved a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Your identity doesn’t leave the walls of this building. We understand the desire for anonymity, especially under the circumstances.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well, the subject matter, of course. You’re a start-up superpower in Silicon Valley. This is based on your story, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but it’s still fiction… obviously an embellishment. Things didn’t happen exactly as I wrote them.” She wiped her clammy palms on her jeans.

Rochelle nodded. “There are a couple of reasons why this book is so white-hot right now. First, everyone is obsessed with Silicon Valley. The start-up world represents excitement, anticipation, innovation, hope, and dreams. People love reading about true-to-life stories from entrepreneurs. There’s a certain aura associated with that.”

“What’s the second reason?” she asked, gnawing at her thumbnail.

Rochelle and Carly exchanged glances. “There is a tremendous likeness between your main character, Peter Everly, and a certain infamous venture capitalist named Paul Emerson. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

No, no, no…

“I know there’s been talk about the book being based on him but—”

“Look, I don’t really care who your muse was. What I do care about is keeping up the momentum of the media frenzy. You wrote a book about the rocky road to success for a fictional startup CEO in Silicon Valley, and how the company’s future was jeopardized by a ruthless, sketchy venture capitalist named Peter Everly. Of course industry insiders are going to think it’s about Paul Emerson, and that link is the primary reason you’re on the bestseller list. People want to believe the book is about him. He’s a public figure with plenty of notoriety — a fixture on the Palo Alto scene, a frequent mention on page six of the
Post
, a celebrity in the world of entrepreneurship and finance.”

Carly chimed in. “We need to capitalize on this if we want to continue growing your following. This is the most exciting launch we’ve had in years. You want this book to be as successful as possible, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, but I just don’t—”

“That’s all we need to know. Rochelle will make sure we get the most press coverage we can command.”

She toyed with her earring. “This could be really bad for Paul Emerson. I mean, in his line of work, any negativity can really impact his business dealings.”

Rochelle smiled. “Don’t worry about that. There’s no such thing as negative publicity. I will take care of everything. Your cover is perfectly safe, and this book is going to reach new levels of fame.
Trust
me.” With a quick air kiss, she was gone, leaving a cloud of perfume in her wake.

Paul would never escape unscathed. The reality made her blood run cold, even though the office temperature was stifling. Any negative perception would drive away prospective investments and now, the end result of her misdirected anger and guilt were about to crush his livelihood. In her mind, writing the book had given back some of the control she’d lost at a time she needed it most. It was a way to assuage her grief. But it could never bring back Tara, and it never made her feel whole again. Instead, someone else had unexpectedly penetrated her barriers and satisfied her emotional needs. How ironic it was the monster himself.

“
I HAD A FEELING
I’d find you here. Are you insane? This place isn’t safe at night.”

Avery’s eyes flew open, startled by the voice. Yeah, lying on a desolate beach at dusk, alone in a string bikini, probably wasn’t her brightest idea. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“It would appear so.” Paul dropped to his knees and handed her a North Face fleece jacket. “Put this on. It’s a little cold to be lying around in your bathing suit.”

“You want me to cover up? That’s not your typical MO.”

“I’m not saying I don’t enjoy the view, but if you catch pneumonia, it’ll really slow down our timeline with the sensors.” He flashed a playful smirk, making her heart lurch.

“And here I was, thinking you might have some other reason to keep me healthy.” She sat up and slid her arms into the warm jacket, inhaling the cologne-infused fabric. Mmm. Prada. “Thanks. So what are you doing here? Sunset surfing?”

“I was looking for you.”

“But… why?” Maybe he really did want to discuss the sensors. Her rapid exit didn’t leave time to work through the next steps. Surely Alison could have set up another meeting. A shiver ran through her, and she burrowed further into the fleece.

“Something was up with you earlier. You ran out of the meeting, and I was concerned.”

The moments shared right before Chris and James arrived… What was he going to tell her? The intensity in his eyes indicated it wasn’t work-related. Her pulse quickened. Could it be… was it even possible? “You were—”

“Do I look like more of a stalker now?”

“Little bit.” She toyed with the end of her ponytail. “You really came to check up on me?”

“Well…” He averted his gaze, an unreadable expression masking his face. “…we’re friends, right? I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I called the office, but Divya said you’d left for the day.”

He wanted to be her friend.
Friend
? The word made her stomach clench. Of course he didn’t expect anything more. She’d made it crystal clear there was no future for them, especially when she was about to anonymously bludgeon his career and reputation. Unfortunately, her heart had begun humming a very different melody, and there was nothing she could do to shut it the hell up.

Her hand suddenly developed a mind of its own and grazed his muscular arm. When did her limbs become so goddamned bold? Fluttering erupted in her belly as she regarded the unspoken question in his eyes. Definitely not the look she’d expect from a friend. Tiny hairs on the nape of her neck stood at attention, despite being cushioned by the plush fleece lining.

A hundred jackets couldn’t provide the same feeling of warmth as his arm slung around her shoulders. Such a simple action, yet the effect was anything but. “Better?”

Snuggling closer, she nodded. Every last nerve ending tingled under the pads of his fingertips. Even the thick lining couldn’t blunt the impact. “Much.”

They sat in silence as the bright orange sun set over white-capped waves until her voice shattered the still air.

“I had a sister. Tara. She died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She got sick with lymphoma when she was eleven. It tore my family apart. My dad couldn’t cope. Tara was my mom’s sole focus, and she barely acknowledged us.” Avery stared at the sky to keep her tears in check. “My dad and I were always close, so at least we had each other. But it wasn’t enough because he left.”

Paul’s arm tightened around her, but still he remained quiet.

“When Tara went into remission, the doctors felt confident about her prognosis. But they didn’t expect…” Her fingers absently trailed across the cool sand. “The cancer came back right after I graduated from college, and I moved home to help. None of the treatments worked, and she eventually needed a bone marrow transplant. My mom and I were both compatible, but the doctors all agreed I should be the donor. Her body rejected the marrow, and she was gone a couple of months later.” The tears flowed, but it felt good to finally let everything out.

“My mother and I… we don’t have…” A sob escaped. “Things aren’t great between us. She never recovered after Tara died. I always felt responsible because I was the one who should have been able to help, and I failed her. Failed everyone.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, especially if the doctors were on board with the decision.”

“Logic doesn’t make me feel better. My mom is all I have left, and she only wants the daughter who’s gone. In her mind, she lost everything when Tara died. Because of
me
. I’d given up so much, but it wasn’t ever enough. I tried for a while to make things better but…” An unexpected surge of passion ensued as Paul’s hands clasped her trembling ones, entwining their fingers. They felt so warm and strong, so connected. No, she couldn’t entertain those thoughts. Friends comforted one another. There wasn’t room for anything else between them. He was just trying to be supportive, nothing more. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

“I asked.”

“Yeah, I guess.” A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “She was a really talented singer and musician. That’s why I started CrowdRok, so she could achieve her dream of becoming a performer. I needed to make sure she had a chance. I wanted to at least give that to her before she died.”

Crazy as it seemed, the emotional burden Avery had been carrying for so long lifted with each word spoken. Everything felt lighter. She’d never let anyone that far into the recesses of her mind and heart, and it was strangely liberating.

Paul stroked the back of her head. “You’re an amazing woman. I’m sorry your mom can’t see that. But you can’t blame yourself. You did everything you could.”

Avery breathed in his delicious scent. She wanted to believe something more than just friendship had driven him out to the beach that evening. There was an unfamiliar sentiment in his deep-set gaze… and what she’d long given up on… hope. A dull ache settled in her chest. How much longer could she keep up this charade? A friendship built on lies and deceit because of the mess she’d created would lead to potential disaster if he ever found out her secret. But telling him the truth guaranteed a loss she just couldn’t handle.

IT WASN’T LONG BEFORE
the press was all over Avery’s book like a hobo on a ham sandwich. She couldn’t even blame Carly and Rochelle. Yardley Press stood to make a fortune if the book hype picked up momentum. And Paul… well, he was in the epicenter of the media blitz.

She stabbed the Up button next to the elevator. Mia had asked her to stop by for some SportSensor resumés, and the thought of seeing Paul made her skin crawl. He hadn’t divulged much to her about the fallout, but she knew the publicity was devastating to the startups he was trying to fund. From what she’d heard and read, companies were pulling away to protect their reputations, and competitors were scooping them up left and right. It was like some kind of tag sale for venture capitalists. The playing field was level again. Blue Coat had always held control in the past and handpicked its investments, outbidding all the other venture firms. Payback was a bitch.