Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2) (14 page)

“Wish him luck for me.” Liz’s smile returned but no longer reached her eyes. “Maybe we should reschedule?”

“You and I can still do something. My boyfriend is gone for the weekend.”

Liz wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It was only dinner. Let’s save it until he gets back.”

“Sure. We’ll do it in two weeks instead.” Chloe wanted to ask what was making Liz squirm, but she wasn’t sure she was reading the body language right. She’d struggled to open up to Jordan—putting words to thoughts that didn’t make sense to her—and they knew each other. She couldn’t explain to Liz why the conversation bothered her.

Liz glanced at her phone and stood. “I’ll see you both then. For now, I should let you get back to work. I’ll follow up with you in a few days, with any questions we have about the contract.”

“Sounds fantastic.” Chloe’s fake enthusiasm echoed in her eardrums, loud and brassy. She hated the feelings crawling through her. The jealousy she shouldn’t feel. The unreasonable doubt. But acknowledging the wrongness didn’t lessen the creeping
blah
.

When Liz told Chloe last Thursday that she wanted to delay their plans, Liz expected to move past the shifted date as if it were another bump in the calendar. Seeing Chloe’s confusion at the news almost made Liz say,
Never mind. Let’s hook up anyway.

She couldn’t let herself say the words, though. It wasn’t something Liz wanted to explain. Lunch with just Chloe was difficult enough. Being alone with either Chloe or Jordan outside a professional environment wasn’t an option. Liz needed the in-her-face reminder the two were a couple. Separate, each was a temptation, and simply considering that filled her with guilt. She didn’t think either of them would struggle with it, but only seeing them together was the best way to remind Liz they were off limits.

As Saturday crept up and then passed, her resolve didn’t stop her from trying her damnedest not to think about not seeing them—and failing. Liz had never dreaded Mondays, but this morning, leaving the weekend behind filled her with melancholy.

Might as well see if she could get some work done. She flipped on her laptop and let the weekend email spill in. She deleted a message from Stew Knapfer, asking for ten minutes of her time, along with half-a-dozen spam letters offering her everything from enterprise-level data to top-tier human resource management.

A note from Jonathan sat near the top.
Call me when you get in.

She frowned at the terse subject line with no message in the body, grabbed her phone, and then dialed.

It only managed half a ring before Jonathan answered. “Liz. Gotta love early risers.” He didn’t sound upset.

“I’m all about the customer service. You can always call me if there’s an emergency, rather than waiting for me to get into the office.”

“No emergency.” His upbeat tone lifted her mood a notch. “I wanted to get to you before your calendar filled for the week, but nothing’s on fire. How was your weekend?”

A little pathetic and a lot lonely
. “Fantastic. Yours?”

“Busy, but worth it. Hey, I’m sorry to cut this short. I’d keep you company for hours if I could, but I’ve got a meeting in five. I’m going to be in your neck of the woods tomorrow—last minute plans—and I wondered if you’d grab lunch with me.”

She did a quick check of her calendar. “It’ll have to be at one, but if that’s okay, sure. Do you want to stop by the office at all while you’re here? Check in with Mercy or anyone else?”

“Nah. Thanks, though. My business there isn’t related, but I have to say
hi
to my favorite account manager.”

“Of course.” Liz kept the cheer in her reply, despite the nudge at the back of her mind that she needed to examine this conversation closer. “Send me the details, and I’ll meet you there.”

“I look forward to it. Talk soon.”

Liz stared at her phone for a few seconds after he disconnected, trying to grasp the conversation and figure out why it struck her as bizarre. Probably because her mind was still half-focused on the weekend’s missed opportunity. She’d never get anything done if she dwelled on that. She stashed regret high on a shelf and turned to the rest of her email.

* * * *

“The first hotel had lost my reservation and was booked solid. They were kind about it, though and called other nearby locations. It was late, and I was tired.” Liz was telling Jonathan about the last vacation she took to Italy. “So when they told me they had a place but their only available room had a broken TV, I told the hotel I didn’t care, and they sent a car for me.”

“That’s miserable. At least you got some sleep finally.” Jonathan brushed his hand over hers.

“You’d think that.” His friendly gesture clicked off in her head, added to a list of other snippets of odd behavior through lunch. It mingled with yesterday’s call and meeting up with him in L.A., but it still didn’t make sense. “But no. It was an older building. Radiators. Locks that needed keys, instead of being electronic. I swear the lock was about a century old, and it took me about five minutes to jiggle it enough the tumblers let me lock it. Then I pretty much collapsed into bed. I slept for maybe an hour, before I heard scraping and stumbling, and someone joined me in bed next to me. She stunk of alcohol and was out cold the moment she lay down. Apparently I hadn’t locked the door after all, and she was so wasted, she mixed up her room number.”

He laughed and shook his head. “She got your company for the evening. Lucky woman.”

“I never thought of it that way, but I guess so.” The gears in her mind clicked into place, and Liz suddenly saw the whole picture. He was hitting on her. Mercy and Ian both described him as friendly, but nothing like this ever came up. And Liz had seen him with his colleagues. He didn’t hold himself this way with any of them. Crap. What was she supposed to do? She tried to be subtle about looking him over. He was attractive—blond hair, stunning eyes, and a toned build hidden under an expensive suit. But even if he weren’t a client, she couldn’t picture being with him.

Because she wanted to be with someone else. Or rather, two someones. The thought hit her hard enough it knocked her brain off-balance. She had no idea where she stood with Chloe and Jordan outside of a lot of fun, and some really good sex, but somewhere along the way, she fell for them. That was bad. So very, very bad. Not what they signed up for, that was for sure. She knew better. How had she let herself sink into such strong feelings?

“Earth to Liz.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “You still with me?”

She had to say something. Cut this off, before it got out of hand. “I’m sorry. Yes, still here.” What if she was wrong? He shifted in his seat, and when his toe nudged hers, he didn’t pull away. He kept his gaze on her face, something unreadable in his eyes. If she was wrong, he must send mixed signals to a
lot
of people.

“Listen, Jonathan… I enjoy working with you.”

“Random, but thank you. Me too. It’s why I was glad you had time for me today.”

This was about to suck. “But it would be incredibly unprofessional to step outside those boundaries.”

“You haven’t heard my proposal yet. At least give me that.” His confidence never wavered.

He wasn’t telling her she was wrong. Her insides twisted into a knot. “I’m not in the market for any type of a relationship.”

“A what?” He widened his eyes. “Oh, wow. Fuck. I didn’t mean— Yeah, I guess I can see why you’d think that.”

Shit. She was wrong. Now was the point where she should crawl under a neighboring table and hide until he left. “I’m not thinking anything. It was more of a general statement?”

He reached for her hand again, and then pulled back, fist clenched. “I didn’t mean to give you that impression. You’re stunning and a lot of fun, but you’re right. That would be over-the-top unprofessional. I wasn’t hitting on you, though if the circumstances were different, I might.”

“Then what are you talking about, with a proposal?”

“It’s a business proposal outside of what we’re working on now. It doesn’t have anything to do with K.M. or R&T.”

Business. She could talk that. Anything to take the focus off her mistake. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve got a couple of partners… financial, not personal”— he winked—“with whom I’m putting together an angel investment firm. We’re talking to people who have experience with charities, investment work, and numbers, and you’re on the list. That’s why this lunch is unprofessional of me. I’m trying to woo you away from your position, to join us.”

“You can hire account managers in California.” Liz didn’t know what to make of the offer.

“You misunderstand. I mean
join us
. As a partner. This is a preliminary offer. We’d go through fact finding and due diligence. I have a full proposal you can look at.”

“So… you’re using me for my money?” The words echoed in her chest with a hollow ping. It was a lot like George, except this time she knew up front.

“No. Or rather, yes, but not like that. I have an idea what you’ve been through personally. Your story is a lot more intense than mine, but this isn’t like what happened with your fiancé. We’re each coming to the table with our own funds. I need business partners I can trust, and you’re on that very short list.”

“I’m flattered, but I don’t think that’s something I can get into. It’s not on my radar for the future.”
What is?
She hid a wince, as the conversation with Chloe about careers flooded back.

He handed her a card. The logo on it was a stylized dollar symbol with a halo over it. “This is my non-K.M. contact information. Let me send you the proposal, and bounce the idea around in your head for a week before you tell me
no
.”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m not in the market for that kind of”—
Opportunity?
That sounded weak—“investment.”

He shrugged. “My loss.”

The conversation wilted after that. Within a few minutes, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Liz wished him a safe flight and sank into her car. She let the silence wash over her for a moment.

* * * *

Jordan flicked the scroll wheel on his mouse up and down, causing the screen to bounce. He didn’t process what he saw. There was no reason. He’d studied the information to death. Four employment offers from different companies, all good money and benefits. All reputable game developers and distributors. Regardless of where he went, he’d make more money than before. So why was he hesitating?

They all promised him creative freedom. He had that at Rinslet too, at least on paper. He had a good idea from trade shows and conversations with colleagues what each company was like. Digital Media was the only one he hated to even consider. He’d worked with them when they purchased Cord way back when, for less than a year. It was a miserable few months. Restrictive. Suffocating. His exit was embarrassing for them and cemented Jordan’s name in mainstream geekdom.

He wasn’t anyone then, but he had executive experience now, which meant negotiating power. Respect. The only reason DM’s offer still sat in front of him was accepting it felt like giving Rinslet the finger. Everyone he talked to—about anything, not only the offers—seemed to have advice—pit all of them against each other for more money; a nicer office; a hot assistant. He just wanted to go wherever he could create again, and he only got vague answers when he asked about that.

His email chimed, and he Alt-tabbed to his inbox. He was shocked to see the alert message filled with his name. Several sites were talking about him and—the fuck? He didn’t believe the summary. Couldn’t fathom it was true. He clicked through. Sure enough, his offers were all out on the internet, complete with job titles and company names, for the world to see.

That couldn’t possibly be good. It wasn’t as though there was a non-disclosure agreement in place, but there was an unspoken understanding not to discuss details. If it were only one company, he’d assume someone there talked to the wrong blogger and the information went viral. With it being a full list, hints pointed to him being the one to spill the news. Would it ruin his chances with any of them?

He needed to make his decision now, rather than wait around to find out. He spun in his chair, trailing his gaze around the home-office walls and shelves. Artwork and figurines stared back. Limited-edition collectibles he’d designed for different events. If he signed them, could he sell them for a little cash? That might give him enough to go into freelance. Pick up design jobs as he found them.

The idea didn’t sit better with him than the offers he couldn’t pick between. It wasn’t because of the money, though he wouldn’t make much, but there wasn’t a lot of potential.

Questions and indecision hammered against his brain, shouting for attention and answers he didn’t have. He left them running on auto-torment and turned his attention to his newest piece. The sketch was done, and he’d scanned it in, to start digitizing it. Falling into the familiar motions of filling in lines, smoothing out curves, and adding shadow helped distract him.

He didn’t realize nearly three hours passed, until his phone chimed with a new text from Chloe and he saw it was almost six.

Her message was short.
Working late. Miss you
.

He sent back a reply.
Don’t forget to eat. I’ll see you when you’re done. Love you
.

The alerts had piled up while he worked, as well. What was it about him that was so fascinating? He skimmed the list, assuming most were the same. One caught his eye, though. The post from Stew Knapfer.

Jordan clenched his fist, as he waited for the page to load and then scanned the article deriding all four companies for even considering hiring a criminal and bully like Jordan. “
Fucking asshole
,” he screamed at the walls.

His focus was shot, as irritation raged inside. That was libel, wasn’t it? He could sue Stew for it. Which would probably require a lawyer, which they didn’t have money for. Maybe he’d order pizza instead.

As if summoned by the thought, someone knocked. Jordan wasn’t in the mood to be social, but if someone was coming to the door, it was probably important. When he looked through the peephole and saw Liz, he was surprised. He opened the door. “Hey.” An unexpected smile nudged his lips. “We didn’t have plans, did we?”