Their Nerd: An MMF Ménage Romance (Two Plus One Book 1)

by Allyson Lindt

  “You’re not. I promise. Where and how soon can I meet you?” He needed her to choose the spot. Any place Antonio knew would be tainted with memories of Justin.

  She chuckled. It was faint, but it was an amazing sound. “I didn’t say yes.”

  “You were going to.”

  “I was. There’s a place downtown on Market Street. They make an amazing Spanish latte. If I say half an hour, does that give you enough time?”

  “That’s perfect. I’ll see you there.”

  It didn’t take Antonio as long to find the place as he expected, and he walked in fifteen minutes early. Emily already sat at a table near the back of the room, laptop out and a mostly empty mug next to her. He crossed the dining area to meet her, and she stood as he got closer. He swept her up in a hug, joy flooding him when she squeezed back tight.

  She buried her face in his shoulder. “I didn’t know if you’d be alone.”

  He hated how much the statement dug under his skin. “Possibly for a long time. Is that the latte you mentioned?”

  She nodded. “My fourth. I should probably switch to something lower octane.” She pulled back, to look him in the eye. “You drop a statement like that and expect I’ll let you gloss over it?”

  “I kind of hoped. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her fingers then made his way to the counter. He ordered her an Italian soda—resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the name—and got a coffee for himself. When he returned to the table, he set her drink in front of her and made himself comfortable in the other chair.

  She fiddled with her straw. “I’m guessing I shouldn’t ask how your morning went.”

  “If I tell you clusterfuck meets Hellraiser, does that give you an idea?”

  She twisted her mouth in a half-smile. “It makes me a curious little monkey. Are you okay to share details?”

  He didn’t know if she meant professionally or personally, and he wasn’t sure it mattered. “High level. What about you? You got tossed in the shit pond too.”

  “But you already know my details. Fired for sleeping with the boss. Apparently sold out by my best friend’s spiteful brother. She took his side, and if that continues we may never speak again. See? Nothing new.”

  Most of it was, but he understood the desire to gloss over and make light of the situation. “It’s funny. Your story’s got a lot of the same details as mine. Boss quit. I told him he was an asshole for it, but I loved him anyway. He doesn’t feel the same, and now we may never speak again.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He didn’t want her pity. “Me too. But I’m not ready to process yet. Give me a few days, and when it really sinks in, I’ll call you sobbing and beg you to bring over beer and ice cream.”

  “Together? You’re on your own. But I’ll be there for the sinking-in bit.”

  “I know you will.” It was amazing how much that meant, which led him to another realization. “You were right about one thing. Well, several, but one in particular.”

  “What’s that?” She looked curious.

  “You would have been a rebound girl if you hadn’t stopped me the other night. You deserve better than that.”

  Her sad expression deepened, and she slid her hand under his. “Seems like we both got a bit fucked over.”

  “It really does.”

  “What now?” she asked.

  It was the last question he was qualified to answer.

  JUSTIN COULDN’T BELIEVE how much of him felt bruised and battered—his heart, his mind, his soul. It wasn’t like when he and Lia broke up. He didn’t know what to do. How to approach Antonio. How to go back to being his friend after what transpired.

  When Lia left, the shock had faded under his drive to build PP regardless of what the board said. The next morning—bam. He had a distraction. That wasn’t working this time. Tuesday bled into Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, leaving them a smear in his mind.

  Antonio wouldn’t talk to him. He worked with his office door closed, and business correspondence came in single-word replies, with any personal questions ignored.

  Friday afternoon, Justin received word from Grant. The board had made its decision on his replacement, and transition wouldn’t be necessary. When Justin reminded Grant he was still a member of the board, he was informed buyout paperwork was being drawn up and he’d have it by Monday morning.

  The news should have bothered him. Instead, it was a relief. He hated not knowing if Antonio would take his place or where their friendship stood, but he felt lighter than in ages, that he was no longer beholden to someone else’s vision for his company.

  Friday night, he hit up the bar. He wasn’t really in the mood to drink, and he definitely didn’t want to hook up, but the background noise kept him tethered to the outside world.

  He was nursing the same beer he’d had for the last hour, when a flash of color caught his eye. A familiar redhead sat alone near the pool tables. She didn’t see him; her attention was on her phone.

  He pulled out the chair next to Emily, and she looked up, startled.

  “Buy you a drink, my lovely siren?” he asked.

  She smiled. That seemed like a good sign. “You can’t afford what I’m having.”

  “No? What are you drinking that a hearty buyout check can’t buy?”

  “A hardcore escape from reality.” Pain cut through the teasing in her voice.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Every single bottle on that wall will get you that.” He nodded at the glass shelves behind the bar.

  “Until the morning after. Then the now rushes back, polluted with regret.” Was she talking about them?

  “Do you regret it?”

  She looked at him, green eyes thoughtful. “If by it you mean you and me, No. I probably should. That seems like the smart thing to do, but I don’t. Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m here to land a shark, or if I’m the predator?”

  “That didn’t work out so well for me last time. I am curious why you’re here.”

  “I’m not sure. Same reason as you?” She shrugged.

  That didn’t help much. “To pretend you’re drinking, but really be a miserable body in a chair?”

  Her smile grew. “Sounds about right. I don’t know. I guess maybe part of me hoped, if I returned to where it all started, I could do that one thing differently, to make it all right.”

  “If you meet future-me while you’re here, will you ask him what I’m supposed to do next?” Justin hadn’t meant to let his uncertainty slip out.

  “Talk to Antonio.”

  Justin eyed her warily. How much did she know? “I’m not the one refusing to talk.”

  “Never said you were. You want a different answer? Do what you wanted to do. License the tech from APPropriate Designs and make PP happen.”

  He’d never phrased it to her like that. “He got to you first.”

  “Got to me makes it sound sinister. He took my call. You didn’t.”

  Jealousy spiked inside. Were they fucking? The thought gouged holes in his chest. Wondering if there was more made the wounds throb. “I haven’t been quite myself for a few days.”

  “Welcome to the club. Talk to him.”

  “You know.” Justin studied her. “You knew before. How long?”

  She ducked her head and fiddled with the napkin under her glass. “How he felt? I figured it out pretty early on. It wasn’t my secret to share, though.”

  The invisible divots behind his ribs pulsed in protest. How did she see something he missed for years? “That’s what’s at the heart of this, isn’t it? Too many secrets. And you can tell me to talk to him as many times as you want; he still won’t have anything to do with me.”

  She frayed the edges of her napkin, shredding tiny triangles and building a pile. Silence settled between them.

  Suddenly Justin wasn’t so enamored with the background noise. “How’s the job hunt going?”

  She scowled. “That’s a mood killer. Um... Not well? I can’t say why no one is
returning my calls, but I’ve got a pretty solid guess in some cases. I’ve never had this kind of trouble landing interviews before.”

  “You’re still looking, then?”

  “You put those pieces together all on your own?” She twisted her mouth and her expression relaxed.

  It was perfect. The idea helped Justin ignore the churning mess inside. “Come work for me.”

  “I’m not sure anyone told you, but you don’t have a job either. Or a company.” She knew everything that happened.

  “I have a plan, though. Or a plan to make a plan.” The rush was fading, his frustration floating back in. That wasn’t right. This was a way to regain control. He had to follow the momentum. “Are you two sleeping together?” No. Wrong question. He needed to get away from thoughts of Antonio.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

  Thank God. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “I should go.” She pushed back from the table and stood. “I’ll think about the job.”

  “Answer the phone next time I call?” It was the best he could manage.

  “I will. And for the record, I nag him to call you as much as I did you to reach out to him.”

  “And?” The relief inside grew.

  “Has he called you?”

  No. “I don’t know what to say to him.” Justin’s mood was on a high-speed roller coaster, and the bottom had dropped out again.

  “The truth.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  She bent at the waist and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t help you there. Call me. And him.”

  God damn it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emily wanted to chuck her laptop out the window. She’d only been looking for work for a week, and it was already driving her nuts. Considering she only had enough savings to live in the extended-stay hotel for another two months, and that didn’t include new hardware purchases, destroying her computer in frustration was probably a bad idea.

  She settled for putting the computer next to her, where she sat cross-legged on the bed, falling sideways, and screaming at the top of her lungs into her pillow.

  Frustration temporarily vented, she rolled onto her back. For as long as she’d been contracting, she’d never gone without work for more than a week or two. Silicon Valley was a wealth of startups and shutdowns, and there was always contract work for an experienced developer.

  She was on her second Monday of unemployment, and she couldn’t get headhunters to return her calls. Lining up interviews? That was a universe she couldn’t even see from where she sat.

  If she believed it was a thing, she’d wonder if she’d been blacklisted. The thought was ridiculous; that didn’t really happen.

  Antonio would bring her back without hesitation—he said as much—but he was still under a hiring freeze until their new CEO was announced. He’d been told there was one, but not given a name. Even if it were an option, though, she couldn’t go back to APPropriate Designs. Her employment agreement with Grant forbade her from returning within six months to any company he’d placed her with as a contractor.

  The job search wasn’t getting her anywhere. If she hit Refresh on her email one more time, she might break her F5 key.

  She sat up and pulled her computer back into her lap. Maybe there was something new on the tech blogs that would point her in a direction. Some startup that didn’t care who she was—only that she had experience.

  She was only two or three headlines into scanning her RSS feed, when her brain stalled.

  Trouble in PParadise for APPropriate Designs?

  She scowled at the headline. Someone thought they were being clever.

  Technology giant and rewards provider extraordinaire, APPropriate Designs, announced today their founding members had been bought out. Justin Conroy and Antonio Bianchi are no longer with the company.

  The official statement from the board of directors is that the company needed to move in a new direction. However, rumors say the CEO, Justin Conroy, got in trouble for fraternizing with a contractor.

  She slammed the lid shut on her laptop. Fucking tabloid trash gossip-mill tech blogs. Why was she following this one, anyway?

  The content of the article sank in, as she stared at the wall, and a throb started behind her ribs. That meant Antonio was out too. As of yesterday, he had no idea. Hell. This sucked.

  Her phone buzzed with a text from Cynthia.

  I’m seeing the news. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. You don’t deserve this.

  Emily growled at the screen and deleted the message. Fuck that. She wasn’t in the mood for pity. If Cynthia didn’t care a week ago, it hardly seemed genuine now.

  I’m seeing the news. An afterimage of the text was seared in Emily’s thoughts. It never mentioned her by name, but how many people were talking about it? Enough it stood out to Cynthia.

  Justin’s offer looked better every day. Except he didn’t have a plan, and it would take him a few months to get the ball rolling. If she budgeted, she could hold out that long. Something made her hesitate to accept his offer, and she couldn’t say what.

  He was sincere—she believed that. Despite it being a half-assed suggestion in the middle of a noisy bar, he’d meant it. He was competent, skilled, and had a brilliant platform.

  She wasn’t getting anywhere with her thoughts spinning in circles. She should call Antonio and make sure he was coping with this news okay. The idea settled in with a realization. She couldn’t tell Justin yes, because she didn’t want to be seen as taking sides. If the men stayed on the outs, would she be caught in the middle?

  And if that happened, and someone forced her to choose one or the other, would she do it? Could she?

  Her phone rang, and she scrambled to answer the unfamiliar number. “This is Emily Lowry.”

  “Hi, Emily. This is Terry from Tech Consult Source. I found your resume online.”

  She whispered a silent prayer to every god and demon who might be listening. “That’s great. What can I do for you?”

  “I have a client who’s looking for someone with user interface and database skills, for a temp-to-hire position. It looks like you’ve got a lot of what they want. Can you tell me about your most recent job?” His tone was pleasant.

  This was a nice change. She’d turned interviewing into an art form. This call would be no problem. “Certainly. I’ve got both the skill sets you mentioned, with several years’ experience in each.” She launched into a brief, keyword-filled description of what she’d done with Justin and Antonio.

  “That’s fantastic.” Terry sounded genuine. “It says here that was APPropriate Designs. They’re a client of ours, but they’re not doing much hiring lately. I’m curious how you got in the door.”

  The question sounded like pleasant small talk. She suspected it was more ominous. “I wasn’t on their payroll. I was hired by the investment firm who owns controlling shares.”

  “I see. And your contract with them ended before or after their CEO resigned?”

  Her gut sank. “I believe both happened at the same time.” She could lie and tell him she didn’t know anything about it. Insist things came to a close when they should have. But if they did any sort of reference check on her, they’d get a different timeline from Grant.

  Terry was silent for a moment. “Well, thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I don’t think this position is a good match for your qualifications after all, but I’ll keep your name on file, in case that changes.”

  She wanted to scream that he called her. With a job. That he already said she was qualified for. And—God damn it—why was he making assumptions?

  Instead she said, “I understand. Thank you for your time.” She disconnected, tossed the phone aside, and flopped back on her bed. The harder she fought to ignore the despair creeping over her like a black fog, the denser the feeling got.

  TROUBLE IN PPARADISE for APPropriate Designs?

&n
bsp; Antonio’s anger increased more with each sentence he read in the blog post, as he processed what the vague statements meant. Justin Conroy and Antonio Bianchi are no longer with the company.

  Which struck Antonio as odd, because he sat at his desk, taking a break from working on the development schedule. He was composing an email to the blogger, asking for a correction, when someone knocked on his office door.

  “Crosstown courier dropped this off for you.” The receptionist handed him a thick envelope, then left.

  The return address was Grant’s investment firm. Antonio’s anxiety spiked, as he tore open the envelope and slid out the contents. A letter sat on top of it all, printed on a familiar embossed letterhead. He clenched his fist more tightly as he read. His knuckles ached by the end.

  It was a buyout offer and severance package, with a request he sign and return both by the end of the week. If he needed a lawyer to look it over, he had to submit notification in writing before end of day Tuesday.

  This was bullshit. Antonio might not like the way Justin handled his own resignation, and he might not be interested in running the company alone, but he didn’t have any intention of ditching and running.

  He dialed Grant’s office, irritation ticking through him as he waited for the older man to pick up.

  “Antonio. I’m glad you called, and I’m sorry about the news. I meant to tell you before the press releases hit. I have no idea how that information leaked early.”

  That was one hell of a shitty apology. “I don’t care how the news got out. I want to know why it exists. Justin resigned for himself. I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  Grant sighed. It was a long, drawn-out noise that made Antonio feel he was about to be talked to like a child. “The board feels APPropriate Designs needs a new face.” Yup. There was that condescension. “We’re concerned, given that the two of you always acted in tandem, that your staying on with Justin gone will cause rifts.”

  “What does that mean? Rifts. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I’m not sure how to better phrase it.” Grant’s tone was kind, to the point of being insulting. “You’ve always governed together, and while he resigned, we understand there’s some resentment still. We don’t need that spilling into everyday business on your part.”