Venture Forward (9 page)

Avery’s thought was interrupted by the arrival of their waiter. “Miss Beckett, would you like to order?”

Tina handed him the menu. “Yes, I was actually hoping you could make a few recommendations.”

“Of course. The turbot is quite exquisite, accented with chanterelles and seacress, making for a very beautiful plate. If you’re more in the mood for a meat dish, the beef with morels and ramsons is a wonderfully complex mixture of flavors.”

“That sounds fantastic. Thank you.”

With a half bow, the waiter retreated to the kitchen.

Avery guzzled the rest of the champagne, her head already woozy. Where was that fabulous French bread? It was the only thing that would soak up the alcohol fast enough to keep her wits about her. Heaven forbid she let herself start fantasizing about Peter — er, Paul. As if she’d ever really stopped. “I was so smart to skip lunch. I wish I’d worn my turkey-eating pants. I already undid my top button.”

“Thankfully, my skirt has an elastic waistband.” Tina picked up her glass. “Now let’s get back to Paul Emerson.”

“He didn’t pass on CrowdRok.”

“
Really
.”

“Nope. He never even knew about it.”

“So you’ve been harboring a grudge all this time for nothing?“

“That’s right.” The memory of Paul’s heated stare sent little tingles down her bare arms. “He’s so
sexy
. But this book…”

“It’s the big ugly elephant standing in the way of you two surfing into the sunset.”

“It may not be the only thing. He’s still got a reputation I’d rather not experience firsthand.”

“Sometimes you need to leap before you think. You’re into this guy, so for once, be adventurous and take a chance. Forget the damn book.”

“It’s not just the book.”

“Look, I know you’ve dealt with a lot – with Kevin, with your family. But as your best friend, I’m telling you to let some of it go before you snap like a freaking rubber band. You hold on to way too much, and, unless you get past it, you’ll never find the happiness you deserve.”

“I wish I could. I’m just—”

“A little too controlling for your own good. That book is actually a great example. You wrote it to get revenge on someone you didn’t even know because of something you
think
he did — or didn’t do — as the case may be. Does that sound healthy?”

“It was therapeutic.”

“But extreme. Just give him a shot. If you really feel something, go for it!” Tina clasped her hands as the sommelier approached with two bottles of wine to complement their main courses. She took one of the glasses he poured and swirled the deep red liquid before taking a sip. A low moan escaped her lips. “So delicious, thank you.”

Avery tapped her fingernails on the crystal. “You make it sound so easy, and it’s not. What happens if—”

“Enough negativity. I’m ordering you to check your baggage and explore what— or
who
as the case may be — obviously has your panties in such a bunch. What happens if he’s the one you were meant to find? What if Peter Everly is
the
guy?”

PAUL STARED AT THE
array of periodicals lining the newsstand, registering none of the headlines. In a daze, he leafed through
The Financial Times
. His focus had been shot since the other day at the golf course when Avery Hunter had officially become a permanent fixture in his mind. Going through the motions at work, making half-hearted attempts to engage with his associates, pushing more off on Mia with the excuse that he was preoccupied with SportSensor. It was uncharacteristic and, quite frankly, a little disconcerting. Make that
extremely
disconcerting.

Obsessing about a woman who’d carried a grudge against him for the better part of three years and then blew him off for some other guy was nothing short of pathetic. Maybe some therapy would do him good after all.

Twizzler Bites, Starburst, a copy of
Venture Scope
magazine, and he was ready to head back to work to do something,
anything
, other than fantasize. Maybe the sugar would help screw his head back on straight.

Popping a piece of orange Starburst into his mouth, he paged through the copy of
Venture Scope
, hoping to find a distraction, anything to make him forget how she—

His eyes narrowed at the tiny black print.

“What the
fuck?
”

AVERY DRAINED THE REST
of the champagne and grabbed her clutch from the smooth leather bench seat. Taittinger was her kryptonite. It only took a couple of glasses before the cobwebs set in. Time to make the switch to non-bubbly.

Mia nudged her. “This is going to be the craziest bachelorette party ever! Think they’re ready for our crew?”

Jessica, James’s wife, dangled the empty bottle in front of them. “Not a chance, but we’re dry. Let’s kick it.”

The girls teetered out of the gleaming white Hummer limo in stilettos and tight dresses amid hoots and catcalls from throngs of twenty- and thirty-something-year-old guys lining the pavement outside Ruby Sky.

“Wow, Mia, are you sure you’re ready to settle for just one guy?” Avery snickered. “You’re going to miss out on all these classy prospects.”

Jana, Mia’s sister-in-law and one of the most sought-after indie fashion designers on the West Coast, flipped her long dark hair. “Don’t worry, she’ll have her pick once we get inside.” She waltzed up to the bouncer, seductively puffed out her chest, and, within seconds, they were being escorted inside the club.

Avery linked her arm with Jana’s. “Pretty impressive. It’s nearly impossible to get into this place. What did you tell him?”

“She didn’t need to say anything! Check out her boobeezz in that drezz! What guy in his right mind would turn her away, unless he wazz blind?” Rachel, Chris’s sister, slurred.

Avery regarded Jana’s ample cleavage and nodded. “Rachel’s right. You look fabulous. I can’t believe you had a baby a few months ago.”

“And I’m not even nursing. Can you imagine what they’d look like if I
was?
” Jana snickered, stumbling forward as her heel got caught in a groove on the carpet. “Oops!”

“Your creative design genius sure hasn’t suffered from lack of sleep. That dress will sell out like crazy next season.”

“Excuse me, girls, but can we please find the bar and table the boob talk until we get another drink?” Jessica tapped her foot and held out her hands. “See? Empty!”

Avery’s body pulsated from the vibrations of deafening electronica. A yelp escaped her lips as fingers grasped her backside. She spun to unleash a few choice expletives at the offender but was greeted by flashing lights and crowds of faceless sweaty bodies. “Screw this, we’re not standing around here all night. Someone just grabbed my ass.”

“You’re lucky that’s all he grabbed.” Jana snickered.

Mia shot Avery a confused look. “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

“I’m getting a table. It’s a special occasion.”

“No way, I can’t let you do that. It’s too expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a pretty generous expense account.” A few minutes of flirting with the VIP host yielded them the privilege of their own private space, accessible only by elevator and worth every freaking penny.

The hostess, clad in a skintight, leather mini-dress and sky-high heels, escorted them to a large couch-bed surrounding a table overflowing with ice buckets and glasses. A clear half wall gave them a perfect view of the dance floor, which, in Avery’s mind, was so much more enjoyable than being packed together like wet sardines. Blech.

“This is awesome.” Mia gave Avery a quick hug. “You’re the best!”

“Anytime, love. Now we can finally have another drink.” Avery pulled out a chilled bottle. “Who’s ready for round two?
Jess?
”

PAUL LEANED AGAINST THE
bar in the VIP lounge, nursing his scotch. Much as he despised the club scene, the pulsating music made it impossible to think. So there was the silver lining.

A.J. nudged him. “Hey, have you seen Mitch?”

“No, but I’m sure he’s out on the dance floor, hooking up with some twenty-year-old. We’ll find him later, probably passed out in a corner.”

“You need to get over yourself. We’re supposed to be supportive friends tonight. Suck it up.”

“It’s been a crappy day.”

“Mitch is having a rough time with the divorce. He needs a little pick-me-up. Stop being such a dick about it.”

“Fine.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a lousy liar.”

Paul sloshed the amber-colored liquid around the glass and took a long gulp. “You don’t have to believe me.”

“It’s the article, isn’t it?”

“What article?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.
Venture Scope
. That’s what has you so pissed off?”

“It’s a big fucking deal.”

“
Venture Scope
is like the
Us Weekly
of the venture capital world. Nobody takes that rag seriously. It’ll blow over in no time. Just ignore it.”

“Easy for you to say. It’s not your picture next to the headline.”

“It may not be my picture, but don’t fool yourself. I already got the call.”

“The governor must be thrilled about your affiliation with a ruthless and shady venture capitalist, the likes of which inspired a fucking novel. Good thing he’s not campaigning right now, or he’d be all over my ass, too.”

“I can handle my father. And, for the record, I don’t give a shit what he says or thinks about this. You shouldn’t either. It’s a bullshit article, and you’re an easy target.”

Whatever happened to responsible journalism? Who was their fucking source? The conjecture would crush his business, but did they give a shit about that when they ran the story? No! “Can I take legal action against those
Venture Scope
assholes?”

“You can, but it’ll only look worse for you. Don’t pull a Tom Cruise. Guy sues for every little dipshit thing, and it only makes him look like more of a tool.”

Mitch stumbled over with a pretty young brunette on his arm. “Hey!” He squeezed the girl’s arm affectionately. “These are my buddies. They wanted to show me a good time. I think I’m finally back to normal, guys.”

Could this night get any better?

Mitch put a hand on Paul’s shoulder, clearly struggling to focus. “What the fuck is up with that
Venture Scope
article? Everybody’s talking about it. Who the hell wrote that book? Some chick you banged and then kicked to the curb?” He snorted with laughter. “Sure seems like someone’s got some unresolved issues with you.”

“Change the subject, Mitch. I’m done talking about it.”

A.J. nudged him with another glass. “Drink this. It’ll be forgotten by tomorrow. Mitch, be a gentleman and ask your new friend if she’d like a drink.”