Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2)

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Leasing Love: A #GeekLove Contemporary Ménage Romance (Your Ad Here Book 2) Page 13

by Allyson Lindt


  Because she wanted to be with someone else. Or rather, two someones. The thought hit her hard enough it knocked her brain off-balance. She had no idea where she stood with Chloe and Jordan outside of a lot of fun, and some really good sex, but somewhere along the way, she fell for them. That was bad. So very, very bad. Not what they signed up for, that was for sure. She knew better. How had she let herself sink into such strong feelings?

  “Earth to Liz.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “You still with me?”

  She had to say something. Cut this off, before it got out of hand. “I’m sorry. Yes, still here.” What if she was wrong? He shifted in his seat, and when his toe nudged hers, he didn’t pull away. He kept his gaze on her face, something unreadable in his eyes. If she was wrong, he must send mixed signals to a lot of people.

  “Listen, Jonathan… I enjoy working with you.”

  “Random, but thank you. Me too. It’s why I was glad you had time for me today.”

  This was about to suck. “But it would be incredibly unprofessional to step outside those boundaries.”

  “You haven’t heard my proposal yet. At least give me that.” His confidence never wavered.

  He wasn’t telling her she was wrong. Her insides twisted into a knot. “I’m not in the market for any type of a relationship.”

  “A what?” He widened his eyes. “Oh, wow. Fuck. I didn’t mean— Yeah, I guess I can see why you’d think that.”

  Shit. She was wrong. Now was the point where she should crawl under a neighboring table and hide until he left. “I’m not thinking anything. It was more of a general statement?”

  He reached for her hand again, and then pulled back, fist clenched. “I didn’t mean to give you that impression. You’re stunning and a lot of fun, but you’re right. That would be over-the-top unprofessional. I wasn’t hitting on you, though if the circumstances were different, I might.”

  “Then what are you talking about, with a proposal?”

  “It’s a business proposal outside of what we’re working on now. It doesn’t have anything to do with K.M. or R&T.”

  Business. She could talk that. Anything to take the focus off her mistake. “I’m listening.”

  “I’ve got a couple of partners… financial, not personal”— he winked—“with whom I’m putting together an angel investment firm. We’re talking to people who have experience with charities, investment work, and numbers, and you’re on the list. That’s why this lunch is unprofessional of me. I’m trying to woo you away from your position, to join us.”

  “You can hire account managers in California.” Liz didn’t know what to make of the offer.

  “You misunderstand. I mean join us. As a partner. This is a preliminary offer. We’d go through fact finding and due diligence. I have a full proposal you can look at.”

  “So… you’re using me for my money?” The words echoed in her chest with a hollow ping. It was a lot like George, except this time she knew up front.

  “No. Or rather, yes, but not like that. I have an idea what you’ve been through personally. Your story is a lot more intense than mine, but this isn’t like what happened with your fiancé. We’re each coming to the table with our own funds. I need business partners I can trust, and you’re on that very short list.”

  “I’m flattered, but I don’t think that’s something I can get into. It’s not on my radar for the future.” What is? She hid a wince, as the conversation with Chloe about careers flooded back.

  He handed her a card. The logo on it was a stylized dollar symbol with a halo over it. “This is my non-K.M. contact information. Let me send you the proposal, and bounce the idea around in your head for a week before you tell me no.”

  “No. I’m sorry. I’m not in the market for that kind of”—Opportunity? That sounded weak—“investment.”

  He shrugged. “My loss.”

  The conversation wilted after that. Within a few minutes, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Liz wished him a safe flight and sank into her car. She let the silence wash over her for a moment.

  * * * *

  Jordan flicked the scroll wheel on his mouse up and down, causing the screen to bounce. He didn’t process what he saw. There was no reason. He’d studied the information to death. Four employment offers from different companies, all good money and benefits. All reputable game developers and distributors. Regardless of where he went, he’d make more money than before. So why was he hesitating?

  They all promised him creative freedom. He had that at Rinslet too, at least on paper. He had a good idea from trade shows and conversations with colleagues what each company was like. Digital Media was the only one he hated to even consider. He’d worked with them when they purchased Cord way back when, for less than a year. It was a miserable few months. Restrictive. Suffocating. His exit was embarrassing for them and cemented Jordan’s name in mainstream geekdom.

  He wasn’t anyone then, but he had executive experience now, which meant negotiating power. Respect. The only reason DM’s offer still sat in front of him was accepting it felt like giving Rinslet the finger. Everyone he talked to—about anything, not only the offers—seemed to have advice—pit all of them against each other for more money; a nicer office; a hot assistant. He just wanted to go wherever he could create again, and he only got vague answers when he asked about that.

  His email chimed, and he Alt-tabbed to his inbox. He was shocked to see the alert message filled with his name. Several sites were talking about him and—the fuck? He didn’t believe the summary. Couldn’t fathom it was true. He clicked through. Sure enough, his offers were all out on the internet, complete with job titles and company names, for the world to see.

  That couldn’t possibly be good. It wasn’t as though there was a non-disclosure agreement in place, but there was an unspoken understanding not to discuss details. If it were only one company, he’d assume someone there talked to the wrong blogger and the information went viral. With it being a full list, hints pointed to him being the one to spill the news. Would it ruin his chances with any of them?

  He needed to make his decision now, rather than wait around to find out. He spun in his chair, trailing his gaze around the home-office walls and shelves. Artwork and figurines stared back. Limited-edition collectibles he’d designed for different events. If he signed them, could he sell them for a little cash? That might give him enough to go into freelance. Pick up design jobs as he found them.

  The idea didn’t sit better with him than the offers he couldn’t pick between. It wasn’t because of the money, though he wouldn’t make much, but there wasn’t a lot of potential.

  Questions and indecision hammered against his brain, shouting for attention and answers he didn’t have. He left them running on auto-torment and turned his attention to his newest piece. The sketch was done, and he’d scanned it in, to start digitizing it. Falling into the familiar motions of filling in lines, smoothing out curves, and adding shadow helped distract him.

  He didn’t realize nearly three hours passed, until his phone chimed with a new text from Chloe and he saw it was almost six.

  Her message was short. Working late. Miss you.

  He sent back a reply. Don’t forget to eat. I’ll see you when you’re done. Love you.

  The alerts had piled up while he worked, as well. What was it about him that was so fascinating? He skimmed the list, assuming most were the same. One caught his eye, though. The post from Stew Knapfer.

  Jordan clenched his fist, as he waited for the page to load and then scanned the article deriding all four companies for even considering hiring a criminal and bully like Jordan. “Fucking asshole,” he screamed at the walls.

  His focus was shot, as irritation raged inside. That was libel, wasn’t it? He could sue Stew for it. Which would probably require a lawyer, which they didn’t have money for. Maybe he’d order pizza instead.

  As if summoned by the thought, someone knocked. Jordan wasn’t in the mood
to be social, but if someone was coming to the door, it was probably important. When he looked through the peephole and saw Liz, he was surprised. He opened the door. “Hey.” An unexpected smile nudged his lips. “We didn’t have plans, did we?”

  “No. I’m sorry for not calling. I saw the headlines, and I wondered if there was anything I could do to help. Not that I have any brilliant ideas on this one, but I was worried about how it might hit both of you.” She hovered in the hallway. Why wasn’t she coming in?

  “I’ve had better days. You staying a while?”

  “What about Chloe?”

  He wasn’t sure how to interpret the question. “She’s still at the office, so I’m not sure how she’s taking it.”

  “I didn’t mean—” Liz caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s you I’m worried about, but if she’s not here, I’ll come back later.”

  “You’re being obtuse. When you knocked, did you plan on staying? Come in and wait. We can brainstorm.” His phone rang. What was this? Grand Central Fucking Station? “Shit.”

  “I’ll go.” She turned on her toe.

  He clasped her arm loosely enough she could break free if she wanted, but with enough grip to convey he was serious. “I’ll be thirty seconds.” He tugged her inside, moved his hand to the small of her back, and pointed her toward the living room.

  He took the call once he was sure she wasn’t going to skitter away. “Hello.”

  “Jordan, it’s Cal with Hammer & Nail Games. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Not at all.” Like Jordan was going to tell the prospective employer yes? “What’s up?”

  “I want to say again how great it was to meet with you last week. The team really liked what you had to say.” Despite Cal’s friendly tone, concern slid through Jordan.

  “Thanks. I enjoyed it too.”

  “That’s why it’s so hard to make this call.” The cheer vanished from Cal’s voice. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to retract our offer. After careful consideration, we’ve determined we need to head in a different direction.”

  Grateful Cal couldn’t see his expression, Jordan ground his teeth until his ears rang. “I understand. May I ask why?”

  “We need a different feeling for our team,” Cal said. “You understand.”

  “Sure.” Jordan didn’t. Not completely. But he had an inkling.

  “Great. I knew you would. I’ll let you get back to your evening. Have a great night.”

  “You too.” Jordan wasn’t sure if the other man heard the words before disconnecting.

  Jesus. He half-set, half-dropped the phone on a nearby table. That was one less decision he had to make. The notion didn’t comfort him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling this was related to the leaked news about who he was considering. Or he was being paranoid. He wandered toward the living room, stunned and not really focused on the world around him.

  Liz stood at the far end, studying some of the figures. She looked up from the shelf, and furrowed her brows when she met his gaze. “Are you all right?” Her concern sounded genuine.

  “Yeah. Fine.” He shook off the haze. This wasn’t something he could dump on her. He’d share it with Chloe when she got home, blow off some irritation, and feel better.

  The wrinkles in Liz’s forehead made it look as though she wasn’t convinced. She gestured at a series of prints on the wall. “I meant to ask last time I was here. Are these all yours?”

  “Yes.” Was he was relieved or disappointed she didn’t push the issue? “And the figurines beneath are based on them.”

  She hovered her fingers over the models, not making contact. “Wow. You’re amazing. Like…”

  “Professional quality?” he finished for her, smirking.

  “But better. Who was on the phone?”

  She hadn’t dropped it after all, and he was relieved. “Hammer & Nail Games, retracting their offer.” It hurt to say the words, but it was nice to be able to share.

  “Because of the news?”

  “Possibly. They wouldn’t say.” He crossed the room to stand next to her, following her gaze as she looked over the different pieces. To him, creating was his link to sanity. What did she see when she looked at the prints on the wall?

  “Do you have to work for anyone specifically? Can’t you do this full time?”

  He liked that her question echoed his earlier consideration. Too bad it wasn’t practical. “I wish I could. My work is specialized. I’m not sure I could keep the jobs flowing.”

  “You’re one of the best, though.”

  “No. I’m simply one of the best known.” That wasn’t self-doubt; it was honesty. He was brilliant at what he did, but that didn’t make him top tier. “There aren’t enough people out there, willing to pay what I’d charge. The artists who make money at this—a real income—are merchandising. They’ve got a recognizable and unique brand. They sell prints. Mugs. T-shirts. They have a tie-in that goes above and beyond Jordan Iverson drew this.”

  “I suppose. So do that. Merchandise.”

  If only. “That takes start-up capital. Help. I mean, some people do it on their own at first, but if I walk into it looking to make money, and not just have a hobby, I need to be prepared from the start.” As he explained the miserable reality, he wasn’t sure if it was for Liz’s benefit or his own. Whom was he trying to talk out of the idea?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chloe forced one foot in front of the other, willing her body to keep moving rather than curl up in the hallway for a short nap. Despite the long day and the fact her legs felt like lead, she was doing well. Things fell together at work. A lot were still outstanding, but she’d signed off on projects, met deadlines, and checked as many things off her to-do as she added.

  She settled the key in the deadbolt and turned, and was surprised when it didn’t offer any resistance. Why wasn’t the door locked? “I’m home,” she called in a sing-song voice as she entered and kicked off her shoes.

  “In here.”

  Chloe followed Jordan’s voice to the living room. When she saw him sitting next to Liz, heads bowed together as they flipped through his portfolio, her insides twisted. Was she pleased to see Liz here? Jealous? If it was the later, was it directed at Liz or Jordan?

  Neither. She was tired. She let her smile and good mood flow back. “Hey, stranger. I didn’t realize we had company.”

  “I didn’t exactly announce myself before I came over,” Liz said. “I wanted to see if you two needed any help dealing with the fallout from the latest.”

  Chloe settled on the couch on Jordan’s other side and intertwined her fingers with his. She’d had her head down at work all day, which meant no time to check in online—or do much of anything, besides tell Jordan she’d be late. “The latest what?”

  “It’s nothing.” The faint thread of tension running through Jordan’s words implied otherwise. Did Liz hear that?

  “Someone leaked the names of four companies that made him offers, along with the positions he was up for.”

  “That’s not nothing.” Chloe squeezed his hand.

  Jordan kissed her on the forehead. “But there’s nothing to be done for it. Hammer & Nail retracted their offer a couple hours ago, and Synchronicity, Inc. right before you walked in.”

  “But DM is still on the table.” Chloe had to stop herself from hissing when she said their name.

  Liz stood. “I should go. Let you two deal with this.”

  “Don’t run out on my account.” Chloe leaned more of her weight against Jordan.

  “I thought you wanted to talk to both of us,” Jordan said.

  Liz turned her attention to her feet as she shifted her weight from one to the other. A nauseating combination of smugness and guilt churned in Chloe’s gut. She was inches away from acting like a jealous brat, and she couldn’t stop herself. They’d moved past this, so why was she all but suctioning herself to Jordan? “Stay. Please.” She cringed at the sarcastic edge in her words.
“I mean it. I’m glad you’re here.” That was better.

  Liz met her gaze. “I really think my staying is a bad idea.”

  “Because I’m home now?” Chloe bit the tip of her tongue. Shit. Fuck. Damn. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Because the two of you are obviously having a moment. Did I do something to piss you off?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Chloe was committed to this now. If she couldn’t hide her feelings, she might as well plow through it, rather than let them devour her “I’m just thinking back to the other day at lunch, when you weren’t interested in our weekend plans unless Jordan was going to be there.”

  “I—” Liz gave a bitter laugh. “That’s what you thought? I hesitated because one of you was going to be gone. It could have been you, and my answer would have been the same.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Liz shook her head. “I didn’t mean to be here alone with Jordan. I thought you’d both be home. This whatever it is we’re doing doesn’t have any rules. I don’t want to come between you. I’m looking for a balance and trying not to overstay my welcome.”

  “We invite you to be here. There’s nothing to overstay.” Jordan’s reassurance echoed Chloe’s thoughts, and at the same time set her teeth on edge.

  “You say that, but it’s not quite true. It can’t be. The two of you are a couple, and I make three. I’m trying to set my own boundaries, because I can’t figure out the rules with both of you. I’ve got a best friend. She’s as dear to me as anyone, and a single kiss nearly broke us. But with you, there’s kissing, touching, fucking, and then stone walls. I can’t do this anymore. After the mistakes I made with George, I need this—whatever it is—to be crystal clear.”

 

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