The Geeks and the Socialite Read online

  The praise warmed Chloe’s cheeks. Or it was the wine—she wasn’t sure. “He’s been my boss longer than he’s been part of the family.” It wasn’t completely true. She’d always reported to his business partner. She’d also spent most of her career proving her job was based on her merits, and that she didn’t beg it from Zach, in some sort of pity bid.

  “Then never mind.” Liz finished her drink.

  “No fair backing out after a statement like that. You have to explain yourself.”

  Liz shook her head, but she was smiling. She waved the bartender over again. “More?”

  “Sure.” Chloe held out her glass.

  At Liz’s prompting, and with an extra twenty slid in his direction, he filled both fuller than before, then left them alone.

  Liz took a long sip. “It’s not really an interesting story. I work with family, so I have some experience.”

  Chloe shifted on her seat to get comfortable, and for a moment her head spun. Did she eat dinner? It didn’t matter. A single glass of wine or two wouldn’t impact her that strongly, and it wasn’t as if she had to drive home. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” She giggled. Maybe she did need to lay off the wine.

  Liz’s laugh erased more of Chloe’s hesitation. “I’d like to see that,” Liz said. “My best friend and my brother... Actually, it’s kind of convoluted.”

  “Try me. You might think it’s simple to plot a video game, until you have to figure out how many permutations there are for Character A to piss off Character B and still accomplish their goal.” Chloe took a large swallow of her drink.

  “Here goes, then. My best friend hired me to keep her books. Then she became business partners with my brother and got engaged to him...”

  “Awkward.” Chloe’d been there. Not quite like that, but close enough.

  “More than you realize. When they were dating, I didn’t want to see them get hurt. Either of them. Which meant keeping them apart. At least I thought it did. So, temporary flash of insanity or insecurity or self-realization—whatever you want to call it—I kissed her and told her I loved her.”

  Okay, so Chloe hadn’t made a mistake like that. “Do you?” How was it this simple conversation with a total stranger made Chloe more relaxed than she’d been in weeks? Months?

  “I adore her more than almost anything, but not romantically. She’s pretty, though. Adventurous. Amazing.”

  “I want to be like that.” The words came out sadder than Chloe intended, and she shook the melancholy aside. “How amazing would that be? I mean—pretty, adventurous. Doing whatever sounds like a good idea at the time.”

  “Aren’t you already?” Liz studied her. “You’re attractive. You’re letting an almost total stranger hit on you in a bar. It has to count somewhere on the putting-yourself-out-there scale.”

  Hit on her? The off-the-cuff remark warmed Chloe’s cheeks further. They had to be scorched red by this point. “I’m all talk.”

  “That’s where it starts, isn’t it? You have to be able to imagine it, before you can do it?”

  Chloe didn’t want to wander down any path that related to what she could imagine versus the things she’d actually done. That led back to the fight with Jordan, and... When did she finish her drink? “Anyway. Siblings suck. So do their partners. And your best friend? She missed out. I think you’re gorgeous.” Open mouth, insert foot. Way to go, Chloe. She snapped her jaw shut before she could make fool of herself.

  If the compliment and rambling bothered Liz, it didn’t show in her smile. “Thank you. The feeling’s mutual.”

  Wow, the conversation got personal fast. How did they go from talking about working for family to sexuality? “Without a doubt. And I still say she’s missing out. I’d make out with you in a heartbeat.” Damn it. Where did that come from?”

  “I just kissed her. It wasn’t like we found a dark corner and groped each other.”

  “You have to start somewhere.” Chloe leaned closer, using the bar top for support, and paused with her face inches from Liz’s. The soft scent of lilacs mixed with liquor teased her, and she searched Liz’s eyes, unsure what she was looking for. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Liz’s. Her heart stalled when the gesture wasn’t returned, but then Liz kissed back. Chloe’s pulse whimpered and raced in response, spilling through her, tingling in her fingers and toes, and spreading along her skin.

  Liz settled a palm on her cheek, and Chloe sank into the softness of skin on skin, smooth lips, a hungry mouth...

  Something clattered in the background, and someone laughed. Jordan. Chloe jerked back, eyes wide and heart hammering against her ribs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m seeing someone. I should have said that up front. Christ, I’m sorry.”

  “No. It’s okay. I mean, attached? Of course you are. I don’t expect—” Liz caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Chloe stood and wobbled before finding her balance. “I need to get back to my room.”

  “Can you make it okay?”

  Chloe started to nod, then thought better of it. “I’m fine.”

  Liz walked her to the elevator. Chloe wasn’t sure what else to say, so she mumbled, “Thank you,” when she reached on her floor. Fortunately, her room wasn’t far. As she slid the key-card into the lock, she turned and saw the doors slide shut, blocking Liz from view.

  Chloe slipped inside. It was dark, and silence rushed in to envelope her. She wasn’t gone that long, was she? A glance at the clock on the microwave told her it was after eleven. Apparently she really was gone a while.

  She padded to the bedroom off the main suite. As she reached the doorway, Jordan rolled onto his side, away from her, and pulled the comforter tighter over himself.

  Her gut clenched. “Jordan?” she forced his name out. “Can we talk?”

  He didn’t answer. Frustration welled inside with guilt and too much alcohol on an empty stomach. Chloe undressed and slipped into bed. Was it too melodramatic to think of this as the day they fell apart?

  Chapter Two

  Liz shuffled through her luggage again, not really looking for anything, but needing a way to pass the time before early breakfast with her client. When Jonathan Woodhouse suggested they meet at seven, before he got sucked into other meetings and panels, she figured it was perfect. It would give her time to wake up and get her thoughts in order.

  She hadn’t expected her mind to betray her every time she stopped doing something. That included trying to sleep.

  Like so many times since last night, she hovered her fingers over her lips, close enough to feel their warmth, but not making contact. Approaching Chloe was a whim. Liz hadn’t gone down to the bar to meet anyone, but after watching Chloe, she had to at least introduce herself to the cute woman with the pixie-like face and the black hair with blonde roots.

  Liz had realized quickly how out of her depth she was. She had no idea how to flirt, and didn’t want to offend Chloe by making the wrong assumptions. The only woman she’d ever hit on was Mercy, and that didn’t end well.

  Besides, Chloe was attached. Liz had been the other woman once, and had less than zero desire to do it again. The only reason Chloe’s taste still teased her was because this was new and different. Nothing more. Of course it wasn’t the same as with Mercy. Liz didn’t expect it to be. Chloe was different, from anyone she’d ever met in a way escaping definition.

  She was also off limits.

  And probably someone Liz would never see again. The buzzing of her phone drew her attention. Was she late? No. Half an hour to go, still. The caller ID said it was Kyle Ridge, her lawyer. She could ignore the call, but that meant only postponing another round of this is how your ex screwed you over this time. Fortunately, Kyle was kind. Might as well get it done with. “This is Elizabeth Thompson.”

  “Are you somewhere with a TV?”

  She grabbed the remote. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “Yeah. Morning. Turn on CNN.” The edge in his words was gave
her a new place to fixate.

  “...George Debson was arrested this morning at St. George Municipal Airport, trying to board a plane for Borneo...”

  Liz wobbled and sank to the edge of the mattress, as the news anchor’s words sank in. Sick relief flooded her system, sitting heavy in her stomach and making her lightheaded. “That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked. Of course it was. It was fantastic. George was her ex-fiancé. A man she was stupid enough to get engaged to without a prenup, because she was in love. Who’d tied up her assets in court for almost six months. And who was not only already married when he proposed to her, but had tricked at least two other women into a similar arrangement.

  Liz was fortunate they didn’t make it to the I Do, but there were still some things she was fighting to get back from him. In addition to her dignity.

  “It’s not the worst news, but it could be better,” Kyle said. “He’s been charged with securities fraud. That means all his assets—those with your name on them or anyone else's—are frozen. We can’t get to them.”

  “Oh.” There had to be more. Something he hadn’t said yet. Liz was surviving without the handful of accounts and those of her possessions George held. She just wanted them back because they didn’t belong to him. “So... still good?”

  “Our office lines have been going nuts all morning. People want a statement from you. It’s the same with all his victims. Are you somewhere you can lie low?”

  “I’m in L.A. for a trade show. Meeting with a client. I don’t think anyone here cares who I am.”

  “Good.” Some relief bled into his tone. “Keep your head down. Don’t answer any questions. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Thanks.” She disconnected and let her phone arm go limp. Now her brain had a new fixation to gnaw on besides the awkward run-in at the bar. Though, she’d rather go back to being hyper-focused on the kiss. Screw this. She was tired of sitting in her room. She’d head down to breakfast early and hope the background noise there was enough to drown out her thoughts until Jonathan arrived.

  According to the directions on her phone, the place they were meeting was around the corner. Less than ten minutes later, she found the place. She stepped into the bakery and let the scents of fresh muffins and dark-roast coffee fill her nose. The air conditioner shooed the June heat from her cheeks, and the chatter surrounded her. The line of customers stretched back to meet her, and she had to squish in near the back of the room, to let the door close behind her. So much for a quiet morning.

  A light gust swept around Liz, and she whipped her gaze over her shoulder, to see who entered the shop.

  Jonathan Woodhouse took a spot in line next to her, smiled, and extended his hand. “Another thing I like about you, Liz. Better than punctual.”

  “Good morning to you too.” She shook his hand and then nodded at the crowd. “I didn’t expect so many people. Popular place?”

  “The best muffins and coffee within walking distance of the convention center. They do all right.” Jonathan was her contact for one of the companies she managed advertising for. His sandy-blond hair, brown eyes, and infectious smile made her grateful he was her breakfast companion. It would make it easier to push last night’s encounter and this morning’s news to the back of her mind.

  Before Mercy and Ian—Liz’s best friend and older brother—merged their advertising companies, they competed against each other for the same contract with KaleidoMation. Jonathan had been furious about the merger. He claimed the bidding process was rigged, and he wasn’t examining two different companies, but two different coats of paint on the same fixer-upper. Liz explained to him that wasn’t the case and talked him down from canceling the contract. When he found out she was moving from accounting to account management, he told Mercy he wouldn’t work with anyone else.

  “Did you get the revisions art sent over last night?” Liz asked. This account was the reason she was swimming in a sea of tech without a life vest, and feeling a bit out of place. KaleidoMation had an animation engine they sold to game companies, schools, and other groups who needed a simple back-end system to make drawings move. They were debuting a new product at E3 and had spent a lot of hours working with Mercy’s design team, to put together a few demo videos. Liz was here as support, and also to make sure there was an instant and open line of communication if K.M. needed any last-minute changes.

  They inched along with the line.

  “I did. They look fantastic,” Jonathan said. “The guy who set up our sound and video is testing everything now in the convention hall.” He studied her for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, then shook his head.

  “Is that an except for you’re holding back?”

  “What?” He furrowed his brow. “No. It’s exactly what we wanted. Period. End sentence.”

  “Except something’s nagging you.”

  Jonathan laughed. “You’re perceptive. I saw the news this morning. About the ex. You doing okay?”

  “I’m fine. He’s where he belongs.” She forced her smile in place and struggled to keep her concerns about the concept of frozen accounts at bay. “Glad I got out when I did.”

  “Me too.” Hand at the small of her back, he nudged her forward, then dropped the contact again.

  They made small talk, as the herd jostled them toward the register. The cashier took their order, and Liz grabbed a credit card from her purse and handed it over.

  “Now I don’t feel like a gentleman. Let me pick up the tab,” Jonathan said.

  She waved her hand in casual dismissal. “I’ll expense it back to you regardless. This way, Mercy sees I was doing my job and showing the client a good time.”

  “There’s plenty of time for that.” He chuckled. “In that case, dinner is on me tonight.”

  She shook her head at the inflated etiquette but smiled. Dinner was a meeting with the K.M. convention crew. The cashier frowned, as she handed back Liz’s card. “I’m sorry. It’s declined. The system doesn’t tell me why.”

  “Let me get it.” Jonathan was already stepping around her and presenting his AmEx.

  “I should have destroyed the expired card as soon as I got the replacement.” Liz forced a laugh and shoved the plastic back in her wallet. “Or maybe I did it so you could save face.” The lie tasted bitter. She had used the incorrect card, but not an old one. Out of habit, she handed over a personal card, instead of the corporate one. Tension coiled inside. It had to be a fluke.

  JORDAN HESITATED BEFORE climbing out of bed. He shouldn’t have ignored Chloe when she came in. It left him awake and staring at the wall all night. He had an early meeting, but if he could reschedule, he’d skip it to fix things between them. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and studied her sleeping face. Waking her up felt rude, but walking away without making things right gnawed at him worse than most mornings over the past few months. It wasn’t the first time they went to bed angry, but it was the first no words were exchanged after climbing under the covers.

  He’d shower and dress and make her coffee. Then they could talk until he had to leave. Because they each managed their own department, it was normal for them to keep different schedules at home. Even here, they had different contacts to meet with. Today it felt wrong, though. This trip was supposed to fix them, not turn a fracture into a clean break.

  Her words from yesterday rushed back. She was tired of the verbal foreplay. Sick of the way things were. He clenched his jaw. More lay behind the words—a frustration he didn’t understand. It didn’t soothe the sting any.

  By the time he stepped out of the bathroom again, the bed was empty, but the rich scent of roasted beans mingled with steam. He yanked on some clothes, wishing they were back in the office with their who gives a fuck dress code, instead of this suit-and-slacks, professional crap. At least they didn’t make him cover up his blue hair for the trade shows. There was an advantage to being the trademark company rebel.

  He found Chloe in the kitchenette, near the coffee maker, staring at the con
tents of the cup in her hand. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she wore a tank top that hugged her torso and stopped right above her panties, which left her legs on display. The desire to lift her onto the counter and explore her snaked through him—screw playing nice with business partners. But not until he figured out why she hadn’t looked up yet.

  She’d left his mug on the counter. He knew without taking a sip she’d made it perfectly. Cream, no sugar. He ignored the drink and approached her. She moved back and fiddled with her spoon when he drew closer.

  “Good morning.” He couldn’t read her behavior. Was she still upset? That made two of them, but he wasn’t going to drag this out until someone’s pride gave. He was pushing the issue now.

  A smile ghosted across her lips. “Hey.”

  Rather than force her another step back, he settled for leaning against the counter, keeping a few feet between them despite the desire to reach out. “Did you get any work done last night?”

  “No.”

  Grr. “I’m sorry to hear it.” She was usually the vocal one. The writer, the person with all the right words. Her monosyllabic responses threw him off. “I didn’t mean to distract you from wrapping things up before today.”

  She clanked her spoon against the edges of her mug as she stirred her drink.

  Like fucking pulling teeth. “Did you do anything fun instead?” he asked. She was gone for hours, and wrong as it was, he hoped she spent as much of that staring at the wall looking for answers as he did.

  “I kissed a girl.”

  Jordan’s thoughts stalled, except for the single one grateful he left the coffee on the table, or it would be splattered on his feet and jeans now. Then everything rushed in at once. Jealousy. Curiosity. Fury. Arousal. How the hell did this turn him on? Sure, he and Chloe had talked about being with someone else, either together or separately. There was always the possibility it’d be spontaneous, especially given how much time they spent on the trade-show circuit. That didn’t stop him from hoping for a chance to talk it through first. A conversation starting with so I met someone cute... “And you liked it? Are we playing Name That Tune?”