Catching Avery

by M. E. Clayton

  Catching Avery

  Copyright 2018 Monica Clayton

  Published by M.E. Clayton at Smashwords

  All Rights Reserved

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental

  Formatting: Smashwords

  Cover: Adobe Stock

  Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter_1

  Chapter_2

  Chapter_3

  Chapter_4

  Chapter_5

  Chapter_6

  Chapter_6

  Chapter_7

  Chapter_8

  Chapter_9

  Chapter_10

  Chapter_11

  Chapter_12

  Chapter_13

  Chapter_14

  Chapter_15

  Chapter_16

  Chapter_17

  Chapter_18

  Chapter_19

  Chapter_20

  Chapter_21

  Chapter_22

  Chapter_23

  Chapter_24

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  About_The_Author

  Other Books

  Contact Me

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost I have to thank my family for their support! Nothing I accomplish is a success without their love.

  Secondly, I have to thank Kamala for not laughing at me when I told her I wanted to write a book. Also for being my guinea pig and for loving the kooky group of characters that took residence in my head as much as I do!

  And seeing as this is my first attempt at writing, I want to thank everyone who took a chance on me when they bought this book! Please note that this is a completely independent project and any typos, errors or silliness falls solely on my shoulders.

  Dedication

  This is for my husband. You are everything good about Nicholas, Chase and Julian, all rolled into one. You will never know how perfect you are in my eyes. I love you more than you could ever fathom in this life…and the next.

  Prologue

  The Seven Deadlies.

  There's Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Greed, Wrath and Pride.

  So which is the worst?

  First, there's Sloth. Being lazy and unproductive can be just as addicting as drugs or gambling. Your mind and body get used to doing nothing, to being nothing. Sloth can make you neglect responsibilities and make you lose value in yourself and others. Laziness can keep you poor, unfit and a burden on society.

  Second, there's Gluttony. Over indulgence. There's a guilty feeling that comes with gluttony. We feel it when we overeat, when we over spend, etc. I think it's safe to say, we've all experienced gluttony at least once in our lives. Gluttony likes to sneak up on you. There's nothing wrong with having just one more slice of pizza...until you find yourself fifty pounds overweight one day, of course. What's the harm in having ten different purses, when you can only carry one at a time? Gluttony will have you overweight and in debt before you even know what’s hit you. The sneaky little bastard!

  Then, there's Envy. Envy can keep you from making any real personal connections in life. I mean, how can you really call yourself a friend if you secretly hate whenever one of your friends find good fortune? Envy can make you detest everything you own and have worked hard for. Your car, your house, your clothes are all perfectly fine...until your neighbor gets a fancier car, bigger house and designer clothes. Envy can eat you up alive. Envy can turn your soul dark. That's no bueno...no bueno at all.

  Now, let's talk about Lust.

  Lust.

  Lust is a motherfucker of a sin. Nations topple because of lust. Families are destroyed because of lust. People become diseased because of lust. Lust clouds the best of judgments. But to be fair, can you name one thing...just one thing...that feels better than sex? The feel of a man's hands on your body, the goose bumps you get when his lips touch your skin, the heat you feel when you know he's turned on by you, the power you feel because you know there is nothing he won't do to satisfy you, that first thrust inside you and let's not leave out the aria of the entire sexual opera...when he makes you cum. What feels better than that?

  Next, there's Greed. Greed can make you shady and underhanded. It can make you so hungry for more, that you go into debt because your neighbors just bought a Lexus, but you're driving a Toyota. Greed tricks you into believing your life is always missing something. It makes you become an episode on Investigation Discovery because you poisoned your husband for his life insurance. Greed has you always feeling empty, and for some, there's almost nothing you won't do to fill that void. When you're greedy, contentment is a false achievement. You will never be satisfied. Never.

  Onto Wrath. Wrath is the equivalent to temporary insanity. You can literally lose your mind when you are in a state of wrath. Wrath will have you destroying property and it can make you verbally and physically abusive. Wrath will have you looking at a life prison sentence because you've gone and murdered someone in the heat of the moment. Wrath will make you unreasonable. Wrath can make you feared by those you love and who love you. Wrath can consume your soul. It's mind numbing to all things good and peaceful. Wrath is a true monster with no rationale. Wrath can destroy everything good in your life.

  Finally, we have Pride. Pride, pride, pride, pride, pride....it sure is a nasty little guy. Pride can cause an insurmountable amount of pain. It keeps you from saying sorry, when you really should. It is the largest killer of relationships around. It makes life harder because you refuse to ask for help and it kills love because you cannot bring yourself to forgive. A lot of people can forgive mistakes, but when all you can think about is how that mistake made you look stupid? Lying, infidelity, neglect, all that can be worked through...humiliation, not so much. Pride can make you walk away from the best thing that ever happened to you. It can also make you lonelier than you have ever been.

  So, let me introduce myself....

  My name is Avery Christine Ellis and this is a little story about how my night out with the girls was interrupted by these seven sonsofbitches and turned my existence into a Lifetime made for T.V. movie event.

  Chapter 1

  Sloth: Because when it's Friday and you work for a complete asshat, all you want to do is go home and do nothing!

  Avery~

  I love my job.

  Really, I do.

  My boss? Not so much.

  My job would be perfect, if not for him.

  I was one of many administrative assistants who worked for SMA Global, Inc. SMA was one of the top ten investment firms in the world. The firm was founded by Nicholas Savage, Julian Moretti and Chase Alexander, about ten years ago. The company’s reputation as a money maker spread quickly and within six years, SMA cemented itself as a financial power house.

  The story goes that they were childhood friends-like kindergarten childhood friends-from Oakland, California. They grew up in one of the roughest neighborhoods aro
und and at the ripe old ages of 16, they made a pact to become better than how they were being raised. Nicholas was the investment genius, Julian the financial guru and Chase was the client magnet.

  All three were very much a mystery as far as their personal lives were concerned, though. If you were to look up any of their interviews or public speeches, you wouldn’t be able to find any mention of their families or details about their younger years. Once, during an early interview with Chase, he was asked why none of them ever spoke about anything before the birth of SMA Global, Inc. His simple response was, ‘The only time anyone cares about anything that has to do with us, is when we’re making them money. We couldn't make anyone money before SMA, so why talk about it?’

  That shut the reporter up.

  It was rumored that Nicholas once told a reported to, ‘Take that sheet of questions you have in your hand, roll it up and shove it up your ass...sideways.’ Now, supposedly, they will not agree to any interviews unless it is contractually stipulated that no personal questions are asked and Julian rarely conducts any interviews at all. Makes you wonder what the hell their childhoods were like. At least, it makes me wonder.

  And then there's also the fact that all three of them are gorgeous as sin. I. Mean. Gorgeous. It was truly unfair for people to be that beautiful. I mean, have you ever seen someone so stunning that you were struck dumb by their beauty? How in the hell are us average humans supposed to behave when we come across these earth bound gods? I’m usually a bumbling idiot when in the presence of such greatness. I mean, what do you expect, really? I was taught that staring was rude, but come on…cut a girl a little slack here. If it wasn’t for the laws of society, I’d be all over those beautiful strangers. I swear society’s rules exist just to keep us from making new friends.

  But even in the company of The Beautiful People, those three men would still stand out. They were all well over six feet, with Julian being just an inch or so taller. Nicholas had dark brown hair, the shade of melted chocolate, with eyes the same exact shade, while Julian had inky black hair, with hazel eyes and Chase had brown mocha coffee colored hair, with bright blue eyes. And while I’ve never seen any of them in anything other than a suit, they sure filled the hell out of those suits.

  The three of them often decorated the covers of financial and business magazines, and I’d be lying if I said I was never tempted to wallpaper my bedroom with those covers, because individually they came off as intimidating and powerful, but when they were all together….it was like mortals gazing upon the Gods of Olympus. They were hot as hell!

  However, it's not any of them three that makes me want to slit my wrists by noon. I'm not that high up on the food chain to work directly for any of them. They are my boss' boss' bosses. And my boss is a one of a kind douche canoe.

  One. Of. A. Kind.

  William Spillner was his given name, but you can call him The Billster. Yes....The Billster. Of course, unless Mr. Savage, Mr. Moretti or Mr. Alexander are around, then he's William or Mr. Spillner. He has short man syndrome to the point where-I may not have a PH.D.-but even I knew when a person was in dire need of professional couch time. He's that bully who thinks his position as boss makes him more attractive than he really is. Of course it would help if he was any kind of attractive to begin with, but he's not…at least, not to me. I prefer my men to not be short, slimy and lazy.

  That's just me though.

  He's 5'6" on a good day and has the beginnings of a pot belly, with no wife’s home cooking to blame it on. He's 42 and already going bald, which wouldn't be bad, if he just let himself go bald. But he's holding on to his remaining hair with a vengeance. It looks like someone tried to attach a layer of blonde weave to the middle of his bald head. It looked ridiculous.

  I'm not sure how he got his job with SMA, but he must be smart as hell behind the scenes, because I'm not seeing anything else remotely appealing about the fool. I have been working for Mr. Douche Canoe for a little over three years and why am I still here you ask? Because the pay, even at my level, is enough to live comfortably on, the benefits are great, I work Monday through Friday, 7am to 3:30pm and the company has such a strong, positive reputation, that I feel proud telling people I work for SMA Global, Inc. The work is challenging and I believe I am good at it. Or at least, no one has ever told me otherwise.

  Now, D.C.'s (Douche Canoe) boss is Ian James, and while I don't come across him often, his reputation is that of a fair and hardworking division manager. He's reportedly quiet and level headed. While, luckily, it hasn't happened yet, if D.C. ever crossed the line, I feel confident that I'd be able to go to Mr. James and report him. Why some of these other women working under D.C. haven't...I have no idea.

  So, here it is, 3pm on Friday and D.C. has been on my helmet all week that all I want to do is go home, eat dinner, take a bubble bath, be in a pair of pajama pants by 7pm and then finish reading Eleventh Grave In Moonlight. Hopefully I can fall asleep with the book still in my hand (yes, I still buy hardcopies) and not wake up until 10am on Saturday. I want to be lazy. Laaazzzyyyy!

  "Hey, Hooker." I looked up to see one of my best friends, peeking her head over my cubicle partition, easing all thoughts of The Billster from my mind.

  "What up, Hoe?" I automatically replied and Quinn rewarded me with a big, cheesy grin.

  Quinn Erikson became my lifeline when I started working for SMA. On day one, she took me under her wing and showed me all those little things that no one thinks to tell you. She showed me all the tricks to the copy machines, how to hide my lunch so no one steals my good snacks, how to screen unwanted calls, how to work the fancy, degree needing coffee machine...you know, the important stuff.

  She was also a knockout and she didn’t rub it in your face. She was 5'5", with a natural head of straight, shoulder length light brown hair that she dyed whichever color or colors she was feeling at the time. Currently, she was rocking her natural light brown with, what she called Dodger Blue peek-a-boo highlights underneath. She had big, doe-like brown eyes with perfectly arched eyebrows, a cute button nose with beautiful lips that are almost always smiling and porcelain skin that was lightly sprinkled with freckles. She was a dedicated kickboxing fan and it showed, as her body was slender and toned.

  She was funny, wild, compassionate, and didn’t take life too seriously. She was just all around perfect. I totally planned to spend the rest of my life with her, if I ever got past my prime and never found a husband. We'll grow old together and share our golden years with each other and our cats…lots and lots of cats. My life's plan B rocked!

  "You're going to have to stand your book and bathtub up tonight. We're going to go out tonight, Ace,” she announced, effectively putting my plans to be lazy on hold.

  I didn’t look up from my computer. I wasn’t going to let her use her weaponized doe eyes on me. "Uh, no,” I retorted. “I know you can't understand, what with your judgmental ways and all, but my ménage relationship with my books and bathtub is what real love is meant to be. I will not let you come between us.” I kept typing away on my computer. “You don't have to approve, but I won't let you drive a wedge between us, either."

  I could feel her rolling her eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it. However,” she posed, “if they cannot survive one night without you...how strong is your relationship really?"

  My eyes shot up and I gasped, "How dare you ma'am?!"

  "I dare, because we haven't gone out in months and I need to get laid, Ace,” she said, as she explained her daring ways. “And when I say laid, I mean by a real live male person and not a book boyfriend while my hand is down my panties."

  "Total visual I could have done without, thank you." I shook my head to try to rid myself of her rather graphic image.

  "The point issss, that while I respect how faithful you are to your books and bathtub, I’m pulling the friend card and we are going out tonight,” she insisted.

  She was standing against my cubicle wall with her arms folded over the top looking absolutely forlorn
. While Quinn didn't have them often, she didn't have anything against one night stands. Her stance was that, as long as no one was married and the sex was safe and consensual, then there was no harm in ‘de-stressing’. "What's in it for me?"

  Her big, chocolate eyes rounded as she answered, "How about your best friend's sexual happiness, you hoe-bag?"

  She had a point. I did care about my friends' happiness. "Did you call Izzy already?"

  "Pfft...of course.” She flapped a hand at me. “If I couldn't guilt trip you into going, I needed her to help me peer pressure you," Quinn reasoned.

  Isabella, or Izzy…or Iz, was our other friend that made up our quirky little trio. She adopted us two years ago when Quinn and I ran into her on the busy sidewalk of Santa Teresa Boulevard. Like, seriously ran into her. She was rushing to work, with her hands full with a four cup coffee carrier, when not any one of us was paying attention to where we were going and...crash...all three of us ended up sprawled out on our asses covered in frappomochadecafawhatever. Izzy looked so horrified and then shocked when Quinn and I started laughing our asses off. Between our bouts of laughter, we had managed to ask Iz if she was ok. She was so thankful that we turned out to be unbalanced crazies instead of uptight bitches, that she proclaimed we were going to be her new best friends. However, I didn’t think she was prepared for how crazy we actually were. Well, Quinn, at any rate.

  We've been great friends ever since.

  "Okay, so where are we going?" I absolutely did not want to go club hopping. I wasn't mentally prepared for that lively a night.

  Quinn smiled, and let me tell you, Quinn's smile...her genuine smile...could end wars. While her face was perfection, her smile was breathtaking. "Okay, so there's this new lounge called Xavier's and it's supposed to be a class act. We can go, have a couple of drinks and if I don't see anything I like, we can try Calico's. If that's a bust, I promise we'll head home."