Promise (Venture Capitalist Book 2)

by Ainsley St Claire

  My cell phone pings, indicating a text, and takes me out of my daydream.

  Henry: Hey, beautiful.

  I glance at it but don’t respond.

  Henry: Come play with me.

  Still, I don’t respond.

  Henry: Pretty please?

  He sends over a picture of his erect penis with a caption: We miss you.

  I take a big breath and remind myself to stay strong. If he wasn’t a big client, I’d tell him to fuck off, but I don’t want any of our drama to leak over to our professional life.

  My office phone rings, breaking my trance, and I hear Annabel over the speaker. “Henry with SillySally on the phone to speak with you.”

  “Did he tell you what he needed?”

  “No, sorry, he didn’t.”

  Taking a big breath, I tell her, “I’m on a deadline. Can you see if Mason or Dillon can answer his question?”

  Surprise evident in her voice, she says, “Oh! Sure, I can do that.”

  I’ve told Henry a dozen times that I’m not interested in anything other than a professional relationship. He has a beautiful wife and three darling children. Why would I want to be on the outside, looking in on that relationship?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Trey

  Me: Hey, gorgeous! How’s your day going? I was wondering if you’d like to hang out with me at lunch.

  Sara: Hmm… I can meet you for lunch today.

  Me: I don’t usually have to work this hard to hang out with someone over lunch.

  Sara: I’d hate for you to “hang out” for nothing. ;)

  Me: OK, now I’m not so sure. You seem like trouble, and I promised myself I wouldn’t date bad girls anymore.

  Sara: Sweetheart, you’re hilarious…

  Me: It’s too bad you’re such a dork.

  Sara: Oh, I’m the dork? I’ve seen pictures of you on TMZ. I didn’t realize a guy who wears a Star Wars T-shirt is allowed to cast judgment on someone else.

  Me: Hey, don’t knock the shirt. The shirt gets the ladies’ interest. Then it’s the Star Wars sheets that seal the deal.

  Sara: Wait! You mean you have Star Wars sheets? That absolutely seals the deal for me. I can’t wait to hang out with you.

  Me: Great. What time?

  Sara: 1?

  Me: Mexican, Italian or Indian?

  Sara: Something that won’t make me want to crawl under my desk and take a nap afterward.

  Me: How about Joe’s Pizza in the North Beach neighborhood? It’s a bit of a hole-in-the-wall, but the food is excellent.

  Sara: See you then.

  I sit back in my chair and reread the exchange. I love our banter, and it thrills me to no end. I’m excited that we’re going out for lunch again. I know it’s low pressure, but it also gives me the opportunity to win her over without the stress. Plus I want to see what she’d like to do tomorrow night.

  This time she’s beat me to the restaurant. As I walk in, she smiles, and my heart skips a few beats. She stands, almost tripping over her bag next to the chair, but I manage to hold her steady before we embrace.

  “You look positively beautiful.”

  She blushes the most stunning shade of pink. “Thank you.” She glances up at the waiter, who pours us each a glass of water.

  After the waiter shares the specials, I lean across the table. “You’ve glanced at the menu, any ideas?”

  “Pizza works.”

  “Anything you don’t like on your pizza?”

  “Fish.”

  “Okay, that’s easy.” I turn to the waiter. “We’ll have a large Gangster pizza.” She smiles big. “You like?”

  “It’s exactly what I would’ve suggested.”

  “Really? We must’ve been made for one another.” I bounce my eyebrows up and down like Groucho Marx.

  A spark of mischievousness, she says, “Probably. But it would never work.”

  I laugh so loud, people at the neighboring table stop and gawk. “You’re probably right. You’re just too short for me.” She laughs. “I need my women to be at least six-foot-six.”

  Our banter continues through our meal, which we manage to keep around an hour and a half. As I wait for the check, I ask, “What do you want to do tomorrow night?”

  Appearing astonished, she says, “Oh. I thought I got demoted from dinner to lunch. You still want to meet up tomorrow night?”

  My stomach drops. I need to make sure she understands how interested I really am. “Demoted? Never. Not with those legs.” I want to ravish her right now. Right this very minute.

  “I did turn down all those other men who asked me out, so I suppose we should,” she tells me with a salacious smile that confirms she’s teasing me.

  “Let’s plan for eight o’clock.”

  She nods, and I walk her to the curb and call her a Lyft. She faces me, and I can see she’s nervous. As the car arrives, she walks forward and presses her body against mine before kissing me softly on the lips. The electric current between us reaches directly to my groin. Her lips are so soft and supple.

  Since there’s always the possibility of prying eyes, I’m careful to not explore like I want to, but I want much more. Something to save for another time.

  I run the back of my hand over her cheek. “That was incredible.” She beams with a smile that reaches her eyes, and I add with regret, “See you tomorrow?”

  She nods and whispers, “I can’t wait.”

  Our fingers interlaced, we walk away from one another before we break our touch.

  Despite being late for my two o’clock meeting, I stay to watch her car drive away before I walk back to the office, thinking of all the things I want to do with Sara. I haven’t seen anything to dislike about her.

  I don’t want a one-night stand. I want to explore a relationship with her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sara

  Henry: Hey. I need to see you today. Company business. 3 p.m.? SillySally offices. Don’t be late.

  Sara: What’s the issue, so I can be prepared? Do you want Mason to join?

  Henry: No, it’s a legal issue. Just you is fine.

  Sara: I’m only available for professional reasons. Nothing personal.

  Henry: This is professional.

  Sara: Henry, if it isn’t, you’re going to force me to reach out to Claudia.

  Henry: Get here when you can.

  I don’t want to see Henry.

  The wall clock in my office ticks like the timer on a bomb. I can't stop it, reverse it or slow it down. Each tick drags me forward, helpless and nervous to endure time with a valued client and someone who wants more of me than he’s willing to give in return. I can no more avoid this meeting than I can avoid the beating of my own heart as it pounds with futility against my rib cage. All I can do is let Mason know where I’m going.

  Walking into his office, I tell him, “Hey. Do you know what’s going on at SillySally? I got a text from Henry Sinclair asking for time with me this afternoon.”

  He glances up from his stack of papers and gives me a quizzical look. “No clue. Should I go with you?”

  “I asked him, and he said it was a legal issue and you weren’t needed. Honestly, I’m not sure.”

  “Okay. I’m buried today, but I’ll clear my calendar to go with you if you think it’s necessary.”

  I don’t want to take him off track over Henry having a meltdown. However, I know if I were to show up with Mason, Henry might get a clue to move on. I can’t decide.

  Looking at Mason’s desk cluttered with proposals and statements, I finally say, “No, don’t worry about it. I can handle Henry.”

  He goes back to his paperwork, then asks, “How was your lunch?”

  “My lunch?”

  “Yes. I saw you ran out for lunch today. I figured you had a date.”

  “Oh. No, no date. I ran an errand.”

  “Sorry. I was hoping you had a real reason to leave the office at lunchtime.”

  Smiling at him, I say, “I wis
h. I’ll keep you posted on what Henry needs at SillySally.” Turning, I walk out of his office.

  I know I lied to Mason, but I’m not sure what Trey and I are doing, or that I want to share. I’m confused, if I’m being honest. We definitely have excellent chemistry, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t fool around—the tabloids last clocked a serious relationship at six years when he dated the actress. But while they capture him with various women, I’m not sure what he’s looking for. I’m not getting any younger, and even though I can feel the fire and chemistry we have, what if he likes long-term relationships that don’t lead to any commitment? I’m not sure I’d survive six years with him just to have him break it off with me.

  I pick up my leather case and call for another ride to South San Francisco out to SillySally. When I arrive, the receptionist says, “Ms. White, Mr. Sinclair is expecting you. Please follow me.”

  We walk back to Henry’s office in the back corner. Sitting in what was once Candlestick Park, we’re on the water, and I watch the barges cruise down the bay. I lose my train of thought as my eyes move over the various boats across the water, the one directly in front of us catching my attention until the receptionist knocks, opens Henry’s door and ushers me in. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “A water, please.”

  Henry’s office is quintessentially him. It’s in a state of half-organized clutter. His overbearing mahogany desk takes up the biggest part of the room, his MacBook Pro and two black screens with the color fonts indicating software development. He has several stacks of paperwork strewn across his desk, pens of various colors and highlighters jammed in a cup. Behind Henry is a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, books leaning against one another and in different directions, but I can’t help but think they’re for show. And then there’s Henry trying to pretend he didn’t hear the knock on his door, appearing surprised as if we magically appeared out of thin air.

  He stands and says, “Thanks, Elizabeth. I have a bottle of water here in my fridge.” Turning to me once she leaves, he holds out his arms and steps in for an embrace. “My lovely. You look amazing.” His embrace is a bit long, and he moves his mouth close to mine while his hand caresses my ass. He gently plucks a lock of hair from my collarbone. And then he touches my skin.

  Pushing Henry back, I say, “Henry, I was extremely clear. I came here for professional reasons. You said you had a legal question.”

  He stands back, and sighs. “I’m sorry.” Running his hands through his hair, he seems to be struggling with something.

  Before I give in to the urge to kick him square in the balls, I sit in the side chair across from his desk and ask, “Henry, is everything okay?”

  “Of course it is. Our stock split for the sixth time today, and you know that makes me horny.”

  I stand abruptly. “Henry, I’m very happy for you, but I think you need to call your wife if you’re horny. I want to be incredibly clear. Do not reach out to me for any reason other than professional. And the next time you touch me, be prepared to lose a finger and need a surgeon to remove the testicle I’m going to kick so hard it’s lodged in your lungs. Do you understand me?”

  “I understand.” But then he says, “I’m going to ask Claudia for a divorce. I promise. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  I sigh heavily. “Henry, you’re married. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested anymore. I’ve met someone.”

  “What do you mean you met someone?”

  “It means I’ve moved on, and I don’t want you in my personal life any longer.”

  “I don’t care if you sleep with him. We can slip in a few moments every so often. Baby, you rev my engine better than anyone. And the way you suck my cock is like no one else. I need you. Please don’t leave me out in the cold.”

  I move to the other side of the room to create some distance. I don’t want to ruin our work relationship, so I tell him, “Henry, you know I care for you. I’ll always care for you, but I don’t want you in the way you need me to.”

  “Do you love this other guy?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Please, we can only be friends professionally. I’m not interested in anything else with you. And if you persist, not only will I need to take it up with Claudia, but I will with Mason, Dillon and Cameron as well. You have to leave me alone on a personal level.”

  I sit across the coffee table from him, and he releases a big sigh. “I get that, but you have to know I can’t afford to divorce Claudia, but I’ll do it for you. We aren’t intimate. And I love you. I need you, and God knows I want you.”

  It occurs to me that something else is going on and he isn’t telling me what it is. “Is there even something legally going on with SillySally?”

  “Just that I’m horny and I was hoping you would take care of me. I have dreams of bending you over the corner of this couch and ramming my cock into your wet pussy.”

  I pin him with a warning stare before pulling out my phone and calling for a Lyft. Giving him a look of pity, I snap, “I have a busy afternoon, and I need to get back to the office. Congratulations on the sixth split,” I throw over my shoulder.

  As I walk out of the building to meet my ride, I think of Trey. Tall, dark and handsome, he’s a little bit of a walking cliché, but my heart still races and my panties become wet at just the thought of him.

  I’m not sure where he and I are going, but I think I’d like to find out.

  As I get in my ride for the twenty-five-minute drive back to the office, I want to text Trey, but I’m sure he’s busy, and I don’t want to turn him off because I’m anxious. Instead, I review my work e-mail as I daydream about his good looks and the little laugh he does when he thinks I’m funny.

  I walk into the office and head into Mason’s office. “Henry was excited that they split a sixth time.”

  Gazing up at me, he says, “I bet he’s excited.” Picking up his phone, he punches in a number. “Hey, grab Emerson and come here. Sara has good news.” Hanging up, he dials again and says virtually the same thing. All four of the other partners arrive and stare at me.

  “Henry invited me out to SillySally this afternoon, and he said their stock split a sixth time today.”

  Dillon stares at Cameron and Mason, then sits down hard in his chair. “Holy shit!”

  “Dillon, I believe that would make our original shares worth over six hundred and fifty thousand dollars each, and how many shares do we have?” Mason asks.

  Dillon nods. “Before this split we had almost a million shares.”

  Cameron lets out a giant “Whoop!”

  We celebrate for a few minutes, Emerson excusing herself and then returning with a bottle of champagne and five glasses. “Is this reason enough to open this bottle of champagne?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely!” Mason exclaims.

  Emerson opens the bottle, pours a glass for each of us, and we toast. “To SillySally, SHN’s first official investment.”

  The team spends the afternoon hanging out and basking in our good fortune. Mason calls Henry and congratulates him, inviting him over to join us.

  Henry arrives quickly and shakes hands with the guys, then gives Emerson and me hugs, kissing me on the cheek. Mason lifts his eyes in surprise and I smile, but I can feel the embarrassment burning my ears. It takes all my willpower to not clock him. I hate that I’ve learned to be polite.

  I return to my office, making the excuse that I need to go back to work and concentrate on the two acquisitions. But before I can think about that, I text Trey.

  Me: Thanks for lunch today. I had fun.

  Trey: Me, too. When can I see you again?

  Me: Aren’t we meeting Saturday night?

  Me: Plus, if I’m seen too often with you, it might ruin your party boy persona.

  Trey: I do have a reputation to protect, but maybe if you tell me three things about yourself that you like to do, we might be able to figure something out.

  Me: Hmm… three things? Is this where I’m supposed to tell y
ou I like long walks on the beach? You tell me one.

  Trey: Only if you like long walks on the beach. But how about enjoying an afternoon wandering a museum and hangout together?

  Me: I do like to walk the beach, but up at Stinson where you can search for petrified sand dollars. But I adore the de Young Museum.

  Trey: I didn’t know you could find petrified sand dollars at Stinson. That would be cool. What about heading up into St Helena and enjoying a day of wine tasting? With a driver, of course.

  Me: That sounds fun. You do come with an extra set of eyes at times, so a nice night in sounds low-key and enjoyable.

  Trey: That’s a little forward. :) Low-key is always preferred. I’m used to the prying eyes, but you aren’t.

  Me: Snort! Is that why you like the paparazzi following you around?

  Trey: According to TMZ, I do like being out. But don’t believe everything you read or see. What about renting a paddle boat and taking a picnic out on Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park? We can take in the waterfall and have a bit of privacy.

  Me: Wow. Impressive. There’s a great hike you can take beyond the Golden Gate and watch the sunset.

  Trey: I know we met for lunch today, but what if we were to meet up at Maven tonight and listen to the jazz? They have Sazerac and a sultry vibe, but we can get cozy in the lounge area.

  Me: I don’t know. We did see each other earlier today.

  Trey: I think we came up with seven awesome dates to start us off.

  Me: Well, when you put it that way, who could resist?

  Trey: Tonight at Mavens?

  Me: 10?

  Trey: I can’t wait. Thank you, Sara.

  Eventually, Henry wanders into my office and closes the door behind him. “What can I do for you, Henry?”

  “I’ve always wanted to fuck you from behind in your office, overlooking the Bay Bridge and all the windows in other buildings.”

  “Leave, Henry. I have work to do.”

  He laughs. “You used to be so much fun. I remember working late and you getting on your knees for me.”