The Invitation 2: Surrender

by Roxy Sloane

  I hang up. A moment later, the details arrive, an address in the Village not far from the bar where I ran into him that night.

  I grab my briefcase and jump in a cab. My nerves are growing. Not about the case, though – after what Adam told me, I know we have it locked up.

  No, now I’m nervous about Ash. He promised me that if I showed him proof, he’d drop everything and give my client what he deserves.

  Now I wonder, is he still a man of his word?

  The cab delivers me to his front door, a brownstone townhouse on a secluded leafy cobblestone street. I ring the bell, and wait on the front steps before the huge front door swings open.

  “Welcome,” Ash grins at me.

  My heart stops. Damn, he looks good. He’s wearing faded jeans that hug his hips just right, and a casual sky-blue shirt that makes his eyes look devastatingly bright. Messy wet hair, bare feet.

  Oh boy.

  “Forgive the mess,” he adds, standing aside to let me in. “I had just jumped out of the shower when you called. My housekeeper is off today.”

  I catch a breath of his cologne, light and familiar, and immediately flash to the thought of him naked.

  Wet, soapy.

  Hard.

  “That’s OK!” I yelp, skittering inside. “This is last minute, I know, but I needed to show you something alone. Away from all the lawyers,” I add.

  “You’re a lawyer,” he chuckles.

  “I don’t count.”

  Ash catches my eye. His gaze is direct. “You always count. Most of all,” he says softly.

  I freeze, suspended in the force field of his stare. My body tightens, my skin prickles hot. Desire hits me in a tidal wave, and I have to scramble to keep it together.

  “So this is your place?” I say, looking around. Wow. The entrance foyer hits me for the first time: stark and bright, with gleaming black marble floors and extra-tall ceilings. “Have you lived here long?”

  “No, not long. I use is as a base for business trips mainly. I’ve been all over these past few years.” Ash gestures to the grand staircase. “I was just eating breakfast on the terrace, if you’d care to join me.”

  “I—” I’m off my guard again but my stomach betrays me, rumbling at the mention of food. Ash laughs. He’s got me and he knows it.

  “After you, then.”

  I climb the staircase, still absorbing the décor. It looks like the photos I’ve seen of luxurious Italian villas, all faded elegance and gorgeous art. There are paintings framed up on the walls, and I pause in front of a stunning oil showing a bustling city square.

  “Rome,” Ash says from behind me. “I commissioned a local artist when I was over there last year.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say wistfully, staring at the beautiful scene.

  “You still haven’t been?” Ash asks. I jolt at his sudden proximity, standing so close behind me so I can feel the heat radiating from his body. “I thought it was number one on your world travels list.”

  I step away. “Not yet,” I say, continuing the climb upstairs. We circle past the first floor landing, but Ash keeps going.

  Just how many floors does this place have?

  “Travel hasn’t been my priority,” I explain. “I’ve been more focused on helping out at home.”

  “That’s right, your mom.” Ash looks over. “How is she?”

  “Good,” I say, unnerved by the personal questions.

  “And Zoey?” he asks, mentioning my little sister.

  “She’s fine too. Just finished college,” I add. “She’s got an internship at a newspaper in the middle of nowhere right now, but she’s doing great.”

  “I’m glad.” Ash gives me a smile, and it’s so sincere, I almost forget why I came here.

  Then I remember. The lawsuit. My client.

  The future of my career.

  “Can breakfast wait?” I ask abruptly. “We should talk about the case now. It’s why I came.”

  His face smoothes into a blank stare. “As you wish.” He leads me to the second floor and down a hallway, opening a set of double-doors. “This is my office, we can talk business here.”

  I look around. It’s the size of the boardroom back at his building: large and bright, with a huge antique desk dominating the far wall. There’s a bank of computer screens showing different stock prices and news reports, and up on the wall, a row of digital clocks display the time all around the world: London, Tokyo, LA. There are comfortable touches too that tell me Ash spends a lot of time up here: a vintage-looking leather sofa in the corner, a pair of running shoes kicked under a chair and a half-drunk cup of coffee on the low table.

  I wish we could curl up on the couch and talk like old friends, but Ash takes a seat behind the imposing desk. He gestures to the chair on the other side.

  I sit, my nerves returning. “Do you have a copy of Kellan’s original code?” I ask.

  Ash frowns. “We turned that over, like you asked.”

  “I know, but did you ever look at it?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not a programmer. That stuff doesn’t mean anything to me. I saw the final result, that was enough for me. I had my experts talk me through it.”

  I swallow. “Load it up. There’s something you need to see.”

  Ash gives me a careful look, then gets up and moves to the far wall. He lifts a painting down, revealing a safe embedded in the wall. “If my grandmother’s diamonds go missing, I’ll know who to call,” he warns, but his tone is light.

  “Not my style.”

  “Really?” Ash looks over. “I think diamonds look good on you.”

  I freeze. What diamonds? Did he see me wearing the key?

  “At graduation, remember,” Ash adds smoothly, turning back to the safe. He enters a combination on the keypad, then presses his thumbprint to a scanner. “You had on tiny diamond studs.”

  “Those were fakes,” I say, exhaling in a whoosh.

  “Oh.” Ash reaches into the safe and pulls out a hard drive. He closes up behind him, then brings the drive over and slots it into his desktop computer. He hits a few buttons, then swivels the screen around for me to see. “What am I looking for?”

  “An easter egg,” I tell him.

  He quirks an eyebrow.

  “A virtual easter egg,” I correct. “Adam told me that sometimes, developers bury secret messages or games in the code. You don’t know they’re there unless you hit the right combination. Like an insider joke.”

  Ash’s expression darkens. “And there’s one hidden in VideoMine? Why didn’t Kellan tell me? This thing hits stores in a month.”

  “Kellan didn’t tell you, because Kellan doesn’t know.” I take a slip of paper from my briefcase, and read off the instructions Adam gave me. “Is the program running? Hit shift, alt, f-5 and then asterisk.”

  Ash does as I tell him. The screen seems to freeze for a moment, then turns black.

  “What did you do?” Ash demands. “Is this some kind of virus?”

  “Wait a second,” I tell him, praying to God that Adam didn’t just use me as part of an elaborate plot to get revenge. If I made Ash screw up his whole system…

  Suddenly, a graphic appears on the screen. A stumpy green tree waddles into view. The Stanford mascot.

  “What the hell?” Ash exclaims.

  The tree waves. A speech bubble appears. “Cardinals rule!”

  The screen glitches again, and then the regular VideoMine window appears.

  I sit back, exhaling with relief.

  “That’s the easter egg Adam wrote into the code,” I explain. “In an early draft, which he totally forgot about. He never imagined Kellan would be dumb enough to keep it. But I guess your genius programmer didn’t even bother to check the program he’s claiming he single-handedly developed,” I add in a scathing voice.

  Ash doesn’t reply.

  I stop. This is it, I realize. The moment when I find out just what kind of man Ash is now. He’s got millions riding on this, and I already kn
ow, he hates to lose.

  The easter egg proves Adam wrote at least some of the code, but that doesn’t mean Ash has to roll over. He could offer us a massive settlement to keep this under the radar: buy out Adam’s share ahead of the launch, and keep the whole thing quiet.

  Keep Kellan rich, and himself even richer – by doing the wrong thing.

  So what’s it going to be?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I look at Ash again. His expression is blank, impassive as he stares at the screen. He drums his fingers on the lacquered desk.

  I can’t take it.

  I get up.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, suddenly looking back to me.

  “To prepare my statements. We’ll file a motion to dismiss and issue a press release first thing Monday morning.” I feel a pang. “It doesn’t matter if you keep your promise or not. We’ve won.”

  I thought this would feel good. Victory, just the way I wanted. But instead, it’s hollow.

  The case is over. Ash will go back to England now – or whichever far-flung destination he calls home this week. I’ll return to Los Angeles, and that will be it.

  I’ll never see him again.

  “You thought I wouldn’t keep my word?”

  Ash’s voice stops me halfway to the door.

  I turn.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. I meet his eyes, that intense gaze that looks right through me.

  A shadow passes over his face. He reaches for the phone on his desk and hits a speed-dial button.

  “Greyson,” he barks. He turns it to speaker, and I hear his snotty lawyer on the other end of the call.

  “Yes, Mr. Pierce, how can I help you?”

  “We’re dropping the lawsuits against Adam Granger. File the paperwork right away.”

  “But the launch—“

  “I said drop it!” His voice is commanding.

  There’s a pause.

  “Yes, of course. Anything else?”

  “Set a meeting for me with Kellan Williams tomorrow morning. I want to look him in the eye when I tell him that his life as he knows it is over.”

  Ash hangs up with such a fierce expression, it makes me shiver. I wouldn’t want to be in Kellan’s shoes when Ash turns that anger onto him.

  Ash sits back. “Your client is now free to do whatever he wants with the program. But I’d like a chance to talk to him. I believed in his product when I thought Kellan invented it, and I still believe in it now. I want to back him and launch this thing. With a few modifications,” he adds with a grin. “I may be a Cardinals fan, but I don’t think everyone will agree.”

  Reality crashes through me. This is big! I always said VideoMine could make millions, and now Adam is going to get the credit – and payout – he deserves.

  And Ash came through. He did the right thing.

  I don’t know which means more to me.

  “I’ll let Adam know you’re interested,” I tell Ash with a nod. “You guys can figure it out.”

  Ash rises to his feet. “Looks like you got your win, after all. Happy now?”

  No.

  “Yes, thanks,” I lie. “But what about you? You had a whole launch planned, this is going to cost you.”

  “Let me worry about the details,” Ash replies. “In the meantime you should call your client and tell him his brilliant, beautiful lawyer just made him millions.”

  His compliment comes out of nowhere.

  “Do you have to be somewhere?” Ash adds, stepping out from behind the desk. “My offer of breakfast still stands.”

  I pause, torn. I want to stay, but the case is over. I should get as far away from this man as possible before he hurts me all over again.

  “Stay, JJ,” Ash says softly, and I feel my heart clench with longing.

  I nod. “Fine. But you better have bacon.”

  He laughs, showing me to the door. “For you, anything.”

  I try to pull myself back together as I follow him upstairs to the roof. There’s a gorgeous terrace that covers the width of the whole building, set with exotic plants and even a small, gleaming pool. In one corner, a table for two is waiting, laid with white linens and a sumptuous breakfast spread.

  “This view is incredible,” I tell him, taking my seat. On one side, I can see the river, and on the other, all of New York looms up, glittering in the morning sun.

  Ash settles opposite and pours me a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice from a cut-glass pitcher. I take a sip. The flavor bursts against my tongue, so fresh it’s like he picked the oranges five minutes ago.

  I look around just to check. No citrus trees.

  I sigh, finally relaxing after my last stressful twenty-four hours. “This is the life – if you have a hundred million to spare,” I add with a laugh.

  Ash smiles. “You know, I resisted inheriting my family’s fortune for so long. I couldn’t see anything but the responsibilities, duty and pressure. But once I was able to reorganize the estate, direct funds to the things I thought were important, well… I’m very grateful for what I have. I don’t take it for granted for a minute.”

  “Plus, there’s bacon,” I add with a grin as a uniformed man brings out two plates heaped with fluffy scrambled eggs, pancakes, and crisp, salty bacon.

  “That’s definitely a bonus,” Ash agrees.

  “Thank you,” I murmur as the staff member makes his retreat. I look back at Ash. “I thought you said the housekeeper was off today?”

  “That was the chef,” he smiles.

  “Well la-di-da,” I tease.

  He laughs. “Eat up, darling. Your eggs are getting cold.”

  I dig in. I’m hungry, sure, but focusing on my food is a welcome distraction from the house, the view, and most of all, the man lounging opposite me, sipping his coffee and looking totally at ease.

  I want him.

  I try to ignore how he makes me feel, the ache in my chest when we’re together. I have someone who wants me – a man who drives my body wild. Any woman would kill to have someone lavish her with attention, gifts, and crazy-hot orgasms.

  But what about your heart?

  I look up, and catch Ash watching me.

  “What?” I ask, self-conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. I just… I’m happy you’re here, that’s all. I always hoped we’d get to see each other like this again. Remember that diner we’d go to after pulling an all-night study session?” he adds.

  “Yes!” I exclaim. “With the amazing waffles and fifty-cent coffee.”

  “We had some good times,” Ash says. His eyes catch mine.

  My heart stills.

  “We did.”

  “And that last night we spent together…” he pauses, and his expression takes on a hungry, possessive edge.

  I shift in my seat. “I thought you’d forgotten that even happened.” I look away.

  “No.” Ash’s tone makes me look back again. “I wouldn’t…” he frowns. “I remember everything.”

  So do I.

  Every touch. Every hard thrust. My breathing turns shallow. I feel my thighs clench. I can’t help how my body responds.

  “We never kissed,” he says softly. I gulp. “That night, we did everything else – sometimes twice,” he adds with a grin. “But you never kissed me.”

  “Maybe you were the one who didn’t kiss me,” I point out, feeling flushed.

  “Touché.” Ash smiles. His eyes linger on me, drifting down to my lips. Oh lord. My stomach flips, imagining his mouth on mine.

  “So tell me what you’ve been doing,” I say briskly, reaching for my juice. I gulp at the cool liquid, trying to pull myself together. “You said you’re only in New York for business. Where do you call home these days?”

  “Nowhere and everywhere, I guess.” If Ash is thrown by my sudden change of subject, he doesn’t show it. He sits back, taking another sip of coffee from a fine china cup. “There’s the country house in En
gland, but that’s always been my mother’s home, not mine. I travel for business, so I’ve been all over. Paris, Sydney, LA.”

  Ash stops, a guilty look suddenly crossing his face.

  I stare. “Los Angeles?” I repeat, confused. “When were you in LA?”

  Ash looks away. “I spent most of last year out there.”

  Realization crashes through me. He was in LA, the same city as me – the city he knew I was moving to after grad school.

  And he never once got in touch.

  I look down, suddenly on the verge of tears. Rejection slices into me, painful and sharp. He could have talked to me any time he liked, but he chose not to.

  He didn’t care enough to make the call.

  I swallow back the sting in my throat. I should leave right now, but I can’t stop myself from asking, “Why didn’t you look me up? You told me before that you wanted to call me, but you were right there the whole time. You didn’t even have to call,” my voice rises, ringing with pain. “You could have stopped by the office and said ‘hi’ in person!”

  “Look, JJ, the timing just wasn’t right,” Ash blusters.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I had stuff going on in my life and I didn’t want to involve you,” he protests vaguely. “But it’s over now. We’re both in the same place.” Ash leans forward and takes my hands. He clasps them tight, looking directly at me. “There’s nothing standing in our way now. We can pick up where we left off that night, JJ. We can make this something real.”

  I wrench my hands away. “There’s no this anymore,” I get to my feet, betrayal flooding through me. “I’m not some toy you can just put down and pick up again when the timing is right for you.” My voice is scathing as I echo his weak excuse.

  “You don’t understand,” Ash tries to interrupt me, but I turn and hurry for the stairs. “JJ!” he calls after me.

  I run blindly, back into the house and down the winding staircase. Heavy footsteps echo after me. Ash follows, catching up.

  “Please, just listen to me.”

  “For what?” I demand, not slowly. “More of your excuses? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Isn’t it?” I whirl around angrily. “This has always been about you. You chose to cut me out, you chose to live in my city and not once reach out. And now you chose to fight this lawsuit when you saw it was me on the opposing team.”