Occasionally I consider trying to sleep in; trying to recapture those lazy weekend mornings from college. I don’t know if my body would let me. Maybe I’ve been the hard-driving, workaholic venture capitalist for too long now. Maybe I can never find my way back to relaxed mornings.
Before today I wouldn’t have considered that a problem.
I definitely wasn’t relaxed this morning when I woke up. My body knew before my mind was even operating that January was near.
Without dressing, I went to find her. The need for her was too much to resist.
With her on my lap, talking about what she’ll do after her company is sold, the calm I was searching for when I woke up settles on me. She’s warm and exactly the right size to nestle with me in this chair. I could keep her here forever, doing all my work while she clings to me. And when the mood takes us, I could bury myself in her. We’d never have to leave this room.
The mood is taking me now, and she’s right here in my arms.
I take her chin and tilt it up, lowering my face to hers. Her eyes widen with a kind of innocent surprise that makes me hard as a rock. But when our mouths finally do meet, it’s… sweet.
There’s no other word for it. This kiss ensnares me like honey. If I tried to fight it, it would only pull me in deeper. Only, I don’t want to fight it. I want to kiss her like this forever, to have the taste of January-in-the-morning on my tongue every morning.
Our lips brush again and again, our tongues meeting like shy strangers, and it sets me aflame. Not only with desire but something deeper. Something I refuse to even acknowledge, much less name.
I’ll cling to this sweetness instead.
January wraps her arms around my neck, and the chair shifts as she lifts toward me. Her breasts are pressed into my chest, full and soft, and she’s nipping at my mouth now, still mostly sugar with some chili pepper added.
I wrap my hands around her hips and pull her flush into me, her thighs hugging mine. The heat between us pulses, rises, and soon enough the sweetness is entirely burned away. She’s panting into my mouth, her hands moving restlessly across my shoulders. My fingers tighten on her hips, so lush, and I bite her lower lip.
A stuttering moan leaves her throat. Jesus, but I love that sound.
When my phone rings, I hear it, but it doesn’t quite penetrate my brain. There’s only January and her body pressed against mine, her hands searching and needy, her mouth devouring mine.
When it rings again, I curse. I recognize that ring tone, and I have to answer it. Motherfucker.
I set January down on the desk, keeping one arm around her waist while I answer. If I can deal with this quickly, we can get back to what we were doing.
“Anjie.” I try to sound happy to hear from her. “What’s up?”
“Did I interrupt?”
Of course Anjie realizes she did. She reads people better than anyone I’ve ever met, and she knows all the Bastards like the back of her hand. Except for maybe Dev.
“No.” I tighten my arm around January when she tries to wriggle away. “I wasn’t up to anything. Much.”
January runs her teeth along the side of my throat, making me gasp. It’s half punishment, half sensual, and all turn-on.
“Really?” Anjie’s skepticism is sharp in my ear. “Because it sounds like you’re with someone.”
Yes, the woman we’re going to be giving millions of dollars to this morning. “What exactly do you need?” I put some steel into that. Not to chastise Anjie but more like I’m impatient to get back to work. When really I’m impatient to get back to January.
Anjie’s probably already figured that out too.
“Ultra’s lawyer has given the okay, but he hasn’t heard back from January,” she says. “Could you ask her if she’s read his email yet?”
I go very, very still. “Like, right now?”
“If you could, please.”
I close my eyes. It’s like Anjie’s got a line straight into our brains. I tuck my hand over the end of the phone. “Anjie wants to know if you’ve seen the lawyer’s email,” I whisper.
January’s eyes go wide. She knows? she mouths.
I only nod. Anjie is a force of nature. It’s like asking why a rainstorm keeps pouring.
“Um… yeah. Everything looks fine.” January holds up her hands. What do we do now?
Apparently she doesn’t want anyone to know about us. I haven’t exactly been shouting it from the rooftops, but I don’t care that Anjie knows. Anjie runs my life pretty much, as she does for the other Bastards. She’s the one who arranged for the clothes yesterday. She’s handled gifts and reservations for my dates before, but she’s never teased me about them—which means she knows exactly how bad I have it for January.
There’s a knock at the door. And there are the clothes for today.
“Can you get that?” I ask January. I smile, as charming as can be.
She stalks off to the door, still looking piqued.
I turn my attention back to the phone. “January says its fine.” I drop my voice. “And Anjie, could you tone it down a little with her? She’s…”
“Skittish?”
Skittish isn’t right. More like wary. Afraid. I don’t want her to have the slightest excuse to slip away from me.
“Maybe. Look, could you run a background check on her previous employers? All the funders, coworkers, and founders she’s been around. See if you can find anyone who’s suspicious.”
Anjie’s already done a background check on Ultra’s current funders and employees. And followed up any whispers about potential buyers. Fuchs has supposedly been sniffing at them, but if he really had been, he would had offered January so much she’d have never come to us.
I suppose I ought to be grateful to the cold bastard.
“What’s happened?” Anjie asks. “Is there something in particular I should be looking for?”
“No, just a hunch.” More than a hunch—I know January’s hiding something. She was hiding something this morning when I came in.
If she’s going to hide things, I’m going to search them out. If I’m putting all this money and time into her company, I deserve to know everything. And maybe I can find out what’s got her so spooked.
“All right,” Anjie says. “I’ll take care of it. Anything special I should order in for lunch today?”
“Hmm, maybe some of that roast chicken from the place in Bernal Heights? And something rich for dessert. Oh, and a bottle of Cristal.”
There’s a brief pause. Maybe I have surprised Anjie.
“Ooh, you do like her. How did she like the clothes?”
I hear January taking the clothes from the delivery man at that moment, pleased shock in her voice.
“She loves them,” I say.
“You picked them out. I only did the ordering.”
True, but I’m not telling January that. Let her think it’s more magic.
I bid Anjie goodbye just as January walks back in, hugging the outfit to her chest. “Are you going to do this every day?” Even though she’s rolling her eyes, there’s a happy sparkle in her voice.
Suddenly I’m embarrassed like I haven’t been since college. Because yeah, I do want to make her this happy every day.
“You’d run out of closet space,” I say.
“Oh, I’m already out of that.” She does a twirl, the skirt flaring out. “How did you know my size?”
“I have a practiced eye.”
She goes very still, the skirt settling around her legs. “Of course.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here.” I say it because she looks sad—and like she’s ready to bolt. I want her happy and by my side.
“Only? But this place is a seduction den.”
“What the hell is a seduction den?”
“The picture windows, the breakfast ordered in, the stuff in the bathroom…” Her voice dies as realization dawns. “You really did all that for me.”
I’m annoyed because she�
�s seen too deep. I’m raw where’s she looking. “I told you so.” Instead of letting her dig deeper, I change the subject. “We’re signing the papers today. Are you ready?”
She lets her arm fall, the skirt brushing the floor as she does. “I suppose I have to be.”
I want something more from her—happiness, gratitude, undying devotion. Not what sounds like second thoughts.
I’ll just have to work harder to impress her. To snare her as she’s done to me. It’s the only way to regain my balance with her.
Chapter 13
My second visit to Bastard Capital is somehow even more nerve-racking than the first.
It’s not the money this time; it’s Mark and how possessive he’s being. Or maybe not possessive. He’s not warning anyone off, but he is smiling at me, just for me, and occasionally touching me, like to remind himself he can.
Boyfriend-like, my stupid inner voice says. I tell her to be quiet because we haven’t discussed anything like that.
He takes me through the building to his office, nodding to all the junior people along the way. He keeps his hand at the small of my back, a clear stamp of… something. And holy wow are there a ton of people working here.
Once we’re in his office, he sits me on the sofa. A fresh cup of espresso in the most beautiful demitasse cup is already waiting for me.
“Can you sit tight while I make some calls?” he asks.
I only nod and fold my hands in my lap. Then I think better of it and pull out my laptop. I’m not going to sit here like the bored girlfriend dropping into the office against her will. I’ve got stuff to do too.
I pull up the Ultra Slack channel and enter the general chat room.
I’m here, getting ready to sign the papers!
Instantly Doc pings me back. What is the office like? Is it as gorgeous as Mark?
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. His expression is intense, stony as he talks into his phone. Whatever is going on, it’s not a friendly call.
Somehow the heavy set of his brows and the firm line of his mouth turn me on. Of course. But he looks every inch a man not to fuck with, and what I can say? It’s potent as all hell.
They have amazing coffee here, I type back. Doc doesn’t need to know how gorgeous Mark is.
I heard they have one of those crazy Japanese drip systems and a full-time staffer just to run it.
Oh boy. I haven’t seen anything like that. Not that it would surprise me if they did.
Did he get you new clothes today too?
Awesome. So Doc knows I spent another night with him.
I look down at the dress I’m wearing. It’s a gorgeous slate blue that makes my skin glow and hugs my curves like it was custom made for me.
Maybe it was. Maybe Mark took my measurements when I was sleeping.
Yes. I don’t elaborate. What’s up with the stack today?
Hallie pops in then, followed by Meryem, and the chat is completely engulfed by work.
I sneak another glance at Mark and jump when I see he’s watching me. There’s so much heat in his gaze it’s going to burn up all the oxygen in this room. Judging by how tight my lungs are, maybe it already has.
“You look incredible,” he whispers to me.
I point to the phone in his hand. His smile twists into wickedness.
“Do you think they can hear me?” he asks.
I’m almost certain they can or at least know he’s talking to someone else, whispering sweet nothings to her. But I also think he wants them to hear.
A frisson works its way down my spine. I want them to hear too. It’s a little dangerous, and I have no idea who he’s talking to, but I want them to know Mark Taylor is telling me I look incredible.
“I’m trying to work.” I make that prim but also teasing.
“So am I.”
Liar. Okay, maybe he is doing some work, but he’s also trying to seduce me. In his office of all places.
But our first sex was on a desk. Maybe he wants to christen this desk too. We’d have to close all the curtains—two entire walls of his office are glass, one with a view of the corridors and one with a view of the atrium. I can see a man with a heavy beard, working in one of the offices across the atrium. I can’t quite tell, but I think it’s Finn. Elliot’s got a beard too but not the wild tangle that Finn does. Finn looks like a lumberjack stuffed into a suit.
He catches me watching, and his teeth flash white in the middle of his beard. He even waves.
I can’t do anything but wave back since he seems genuinely happy to see me.
“I’m going to have to tell Finn to stop flirting with you.” Mark’s voice is mild as water, but there’s a bite of vinegar there too. Not that he’d ever choose me over his brothers.
“He’s harmless.” Compared to Mark, he’s a damn teddy bear.
Mark snorts. “That’s what he wants you to think.”
“Are you scared?”
He sets the phone down, glancing up at me. “Of him? No.”
Meaning that he’s scared of me? But that’s ridiculous. I’m about to sell him part of my company. Part of myself.
And I’m giving him all kinds of other parts of me when we’re alone. He’s got all the power here.
There’s a short knock at the door. “Are you ready? Oh, she’s already here!” The office manager greets me with a wide smile. I was expecting someone older, but she actually looks a few years younger than me. “We’re so happy you’re joining our family of start-ups!”
So this is the famous Anjie who knows I’m sleeping with Mark without him telling her.
Her hair is done in some kind of elaborate style from the thirties, her makeup is utterly flawless with ruler-straight eyeliner and the most perfect shade of red on her lips, and her silk dress has tiny angels and devils printed on it.
She’s also got more tattoos than a sailor, winding down her arms and up her shoulders and chest. I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting in an office manager, but she wasn’t it.
Mark smiles at her with deep friendliness and familiarity. Jealousy pulses through me. This woman is utterly gorgeous and works with him every day and gets smiles like that from him.
“Anjie,” he says. “I know you’ve already got everything ready.”
She winks at him. “Yep.” She holds out a hand to me. Even her manicure is completely perfect. “I’m Anjelica, but you can call me Anjie. You must be January.”
I shake with her, horribly aware of my one chipped nail. I would have fixed it, but Mark didn’t think to include manicure supplies in his guest bathroom. “Um, yes. Thanks for arranging this and getting me the meeting…”
And the clothes and I guess you know that I’m sleeping with him, which I don’t know how to feel about.
Anjie tucks my hand into her elbow as if we’re old friends. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad we’ll have some more women around here. And I love your dress.”
A nasty thought occurs to me. “You picked it out, didn’t you?”
“Pfft. Mark did. I only ordered it.”
Mark groans. “Thank you, Anjie. That’ll be all.”
She winks at me now. “He’s so cute when he’s flustered. But you already knew that. And I’m so glad you two were able to reconnect.”
We both go still.
“Reconnect?” I ask.
Anjie lets me go, propping a hand against her hip. “Well, yeah, you knew each other in college. Mark’s talked about you of course.”
Mark talked about me. Before I asked for a meeting. Anjie knew about college.
I don’t even know how to process that. Judging by the expression on Mark’s face, he doesn’t either.
Anjie isn’t finished. “So when you called for a meeting, I made sure Mark would be there.”
I should be angry or maybe shocked, but she looks so pleased I feel instead as if I’ve been hit with a fairy godmother’s wand. Not one of the nice fairy godmothers but one of the more modern, snarky ones.
“Thank
s, Anjie,” Mark says dryly. “I’m glad you always know what’s best for me.”
“Of course.” Her smile never dims. “I’ll just get everyone else, and we can start signing.”
Once she’s gone, I send Mark a look. “So, we’ve been managed, hmm?”
He sends me one much more intense, hotter than the one I’m giving him. “Are you complaining?”
No. No, I don’t think I am. I suppose I’ll have to get used to being managed by Anjie too once I sign those papers. Like a good little minion, I head out to the conference room.
The Bastards assembled together in one room is quite a sight. A really hot sight, although Mark is hottest of all. There’s Logan, desperately beautiful but also with an air of sadness. I remember Callie and how strained she’d looked, like she was about to shatter. Logan has the same look in his eyes.
Then comes Finn, who couldn’t be more different from Logan. He’s got a massive beard, eyes that never stop twinkling, and a nose that’s been broken more than a few times. The press is always referring to him as the redneck programmer, which makes him sound like a rube. But he’s not—he might be the smartest guy in this room, at least in terms of pure coding genius. Rumor has it he used to hack into the NSA in college, just to leave memes on their computers.
Paul is sitting next to Finn, looking suave as all get out. He’s the money man, the one who provided the stake for the first test of their stock market algorithm, the test that made them all rich. He’s also the most pedigreed one here, coming from a family with long-standing wealth. But he’s taken his inheritance and increased it a hundredfold. He’s no lazy trust fund baby.
Elliot is across the table from them, sitting on his own. He’s the one who doesn’t belong even though he’s Logan’s brother. As far as I know, he’s never typed a line of code in his life; he’s a lawyer. Their lawyer, to be specific. He’s wearing heavy glasses and a three-piece suit in gray tweed, but he’s not going for a hipster vibe at all. No, he’s wearing that entire getup completely unironically, as if looking like an extra straight out of some Jimmy Stewart film is exactly how a lawyer of today should be. It would be adorable if not for the expression on his face, which is pinched and scowling. Like he’s very upset at this interruption in his routine. The way he’s set up his pens and paper, everything exactly parallel, proves it.
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