Riding the Wave

by Allyson Lindt

  “Who’s Larry?” What he should be asking was why she dragged out a document that already served its purpose. Spencer hated drawing one up during their engagement, but it turned out to be one of the best pieces of advice Mischa ever gave him.

  “I’ll have to introduce you sometime. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months. He’s a lawyer. I think you’d like him.”

  “Sounds like a fantastic guy. You were saying?”

  “Actually Larry was. He says according to this, I own half of Ride & Surf.”

  Spencer couldn’t help the barking laugh that flew out. “Bullshit.” According to that document, that was exactly what she didn’t own—a company he founded and built before he met her.

  “He says it’s pretty cut and dried.” Her saccharine tone never shifted.

  He hated doing this. He’d rather they either not speak at all. “Are you willing to file a suit, based on what he found?”

  “I’d rather it didn’t come to that.” She sounded apologetic. “I was hoping you’d see reason. We could have some paperwork drawn up, and I could let you get back to enjoying life with no family.”

  He clenched his jaw, and fury spilled inside. “Considerate of you. If Larry thinks he has a case, I look forward to being served.” He disconnected before she could say anything else. It didn’t carry nearly the same satisfaction as slamming the phone back into a cradle.

  He tried to tell himself nothing she was up to would hold up in court. For all he knew, Mia wanted to see how he’d react, and nothing more. She seemed to take perverse pleasure in occasionally reminding him his sister preferred her. This could simply be a new way to irritate him.

  It didn’t matter how many ways he said it, he didn’t believe himself.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Spencer brought his irritation under control and dialed his lawyer.

  They exchanged the standard greetings and assured each other their holidays were good.

  “I just got off the phone with Mia,” Spencer said. “She’s threatening to sue for half of my business. Says there’s a loophole in the prenup.”

  Christian made a tsk noise with his tongue against his teeth. “I guarantee you there’s not, but I’ll have someone give it another look today.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Spencer had suspected that would be the answer, but it was nice having it confirmed. “I told her if she felt like she really had a case, I’d see her in court.”

  “If she takes you up on that, settle. Offer her one percent of the revenue from the last three years, and we’ll negotiate up from there.”

  “What? You said she probably doesn’t have a case.”

  “If she has enough to file, and we can’t seek an immediate dismissal—whether her claim is founded or not—it’s going to be cheaper to pay her than to be tied up in court.”

  That figured. Spencer’s legal fees could easily top the proposed settlement offer. Was he so willing to turn the spite back on her that he’d eat the cost of a drawn-out legal battle? “What are the odds she knows that?” He was asking himself as much as Christian.

  “If she’s had an attorney advise her, there’s a good chance one of them will make that assumption.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. No. He wasn’t letting her do this to him. “I’ll suck it up. If she files, push the case. I’ll give you whatever you need to get things thrown out as quickly as possible.”

  “Will do,” Christian said. “And you need to make sure there’s nothing in that agreement, from your past, that she might be looking to nail you on.”

  It was a pretty straightforward contract. Infidelity meant she didn’t get anything he’d acquired before they met, or anything having to do with his business, beyond alimony. “She cheated on me.”

  “I remember. I’m warning you, because if such a thing exists, I need to know now, not when she brings it up.”

  Spencer was clean. There was no question there. “I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind. Thanks.”

  As Spencer disconnected, aggravation marched through him. Too much of the call made sense. He didn’t want to be tied up in court for years, over a loophole that may or may not have merit, but fuck it all, if he was going to let Mia take this from him. She had his sister and a piece of his pride. She wasn’t stealing anything else.

  TRINA CLICKED Print on the authorization for the switch she replaced over Christmas. Seeing Spencer’s name on the Client Contact line sent a giddy thrill through her. She needed to stop thinking about him, because that tended to lead to a pleasant but distracting thrum between her legs.

  She pushed the reaction aside, painted on her professionalism, and walked the document to her boss’s office.

  Cody took the paperwork and gave it a brief glance. “Great job on this, by the way. I heard from Ride & Surf, and they were really impressed with your work.”

  “Thanks.” Heat warmed her cheeks, and she couldn’t hide her grin. The compliment was nice enough on its own, but knowing who it came from... No, she wouldn’t think about him. Not at work.

  “Are you interested in working on their network installation?” Cody asked.

  “Seriously?” A new flavor of excitement rippled inside. There was no way she was turning down an opportunity like this. ”I’d love that. Thank you.”

  Tristan was the buying agent for the sale, so she had some inside information on the details of the new building and what Spencer planned to do with it. Being involved with setting up their network was a huge chance to expand her skills and put a big notch in her career belt.

  “Great. I’ll get you on the install schedule. You’ll be shadowing Mason.”

  “Fantastic.” It wasn’t; things had been awkward with Mason since they went out a couple of times and she told him it wasn’t working out. He kept things professional, though, and the news wasn’t enough to dampen her mood.

  She returned to her desk, fighting a silly smile.

  This meant more excuses to run into Spencer. That would be fun. Probably a bad idea, but that didn’t stop her from looking forward to it.

  Mostly, it was the boost it would give her career. “Yes.” She did a fist pump, then glanced around to make sure no one saw her being a goof. All clear.

  Trina logged into the phone queue and took support calls for the next couple of hours, until it was time for a break. She set her status to Away and made her way to the break room, for a soda. As she drew closer, voices drifted to great her.

  “I’d love that, thank you,” someone said in a falsetto. It was Doug, one of the techs who worked a few desks down. He was mimicking her conversation with Cody.

  Embarrassment raced through her.

  “Gods, if the door wasn’t open, do you think she would have sucked his dick?” That was Duran.

  “Nah. She saves that shit for after hours.”

  Trina leaned against a nearby wall, her gut churning with anger and humiliation. They really thought that about her?

  “She’s actually good at her job, you know,” said Mason.

  At least he was on her side. Not that his support lessened the sting of what she was hearing.

  Doug laughed. “Easy for you to say. Apparently she’s good at sucking dick.”

  “Not that good,” Duran said. “Not if he dumped her skanky ass.”

  “Hey, now.” Mason sounded indignant.

  Trina couldn’t listen to anything else they had to say. Her skin burned flaming hot, as she slunk back to her desk. Her hands shook when she put her headset back on, and she was grateful her stomach was empty, so she didn’t have anything to hurl.

  She took calls on auto-pilot, spitting out the scripts without considering what any of them meant.

  She could go to HR and file a complaint. Then the guys would be written up, they’d assume she was the one who complained, and her work-life would be more hellish than a simple overheard conversation.

  Not so great for her.

  This was one incident. True, it probably happened more often th
an she knew, but as long as she avoided the specific people, she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

  At a knock on her cubicle, she looked up to see Doug.

  “Hey.” His smile was wide and friendly.

  She struggled to be as polite. “What’s up?”

  “Do you have that tech profile write-up on KaleidoMation?”

  Her thoughts kicked from stalled to racing. “I wasn’t asked to prep one.” She was good at keeping track of her tasks; she didn’t miss something like that.

  His kindness vanished behind a scowl. “You need to watch your attitude and stop making excuses. I sent you the request last week. No one wants to work with someone who can’t pull their weight.”

  No one wants to work with a misogynistic asshole. She choked on the retort. Apparently she was the only one who felt that way. “I can have it for you in an hour.”

  “Half an hour. I’ve got a meeting with Cody and the higher-ups, and I’d like to go in there with info rather, than a reason why I don’t have it.”

  “Sure.” She spoke through clenched teeth. If she argued, it was his word against hers.

  Trina wished she knew what she’d done to earn their ire. It didn’t matter. This was a good job with solid opportunities. It was only a six-month contract, and she’d be running into assholes for the rest of her life.

  She just had to ignore these two until she was done here. And push aside the gnawing in her gut that insisted she shouldn’t.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Trina smoothed her dress over her hips and turned sideways, to get a better view of herself in the mirror on her closet door. The blue matched her eyes, and the fabric hugged her body in all the right places and showed off way too much skin to be comfortable in a colder climate. Another reason to like Malibu.

  The first reason would be here in about ten minutes, and she couldn’t sit still. This was the five-billionth time she’d checked her clothes and hair. Would Spencer like her look? Did she want him to?

  Duh.

  She had no idea what they were doing tonight. Not only the details, but the general concept. She’d re-read her texts after she got some sleep, and had no idea how he’d deciphered what she was asking for.

  The point was to learn how to catch the eye of, and hook up with, a guy who wasn’t a creep. Someone who was fun. That’s what she meant to ask for help with. How was Spencer—or anyone—going to teach her that?

  It was going to be fun finding out.

  A knock at the front door sent her heart into her throat, and she forced herself to not run to answer.

  She peeked through the peephole, and her pulse raced faster at the sight of fish-lens-view Spencer, in jeans and a T-shirt with a sports jacket tossed over it. She opened the door.

  He gave a sharp whistle as he dragged his gaze over her, and her skin heated to scorching. “I don’t think you need my advice about a hook-up,” he said, studying her. “Everyone is going to be watching you.”

  Probably not the women. They’d have their eye on her date. Which was fine with Trina. “Is that your way of backing out?” She kept the playfulness in her question. Was she flirting, or trying not to? She had no idea. Her brain was already swirling in that chaotic party he caused in her head.

  “Nope. Not backing out. Someone has to stay by your side and make sure people keep their hands to themselves until they’ve given the real you a chance.”

  She rolled her eyes but couldn’t erase the silly smile from her face at his attention. “I thought I left the overbearing chaperon back in Utah.”

  His brows creased, and the corners of his mouth tugged down, but the weird look vanished before she could interpret it. She wouldn’t bring Tristan up again, indirectly or otherwise.

  She grabbed Spencer’s hand and tugged him into the apartment. As long as she didn’t think about it, it was easy to act natural around him, but the moment she let her mind linger on a simple action like this, she questioned if it was too much. The jolt that ran between them at the touch doubled down on her doubt.

  “I’ll grab my purse, and we can go.” She dropped his hand and spun away at the same time. With one foot, she kicked the door shut, then hurried to her room for her heels.

  Another knock filled the apartment, as she returned to the living room.

  “Are you expecting more company?” Spencer’s ghost-frown was back.

  “No.” She looked through the peephole. Fish-lens Tristan stood on the other side. Are you fucking kidding me? What was her brother doing here?

  She answered, then realized she should wipe the shock off her face. She pasted a grin on instead. “Hey. I didn’t expect you.”

  “I asked if you were free.” Tristan’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at her dress.

  Please don’t let him be obtuse about this. “I thought you were being polite. Concerned. You should have followed up with, because I’ll be in town.” Might as well get this over with. She stepped aside to let him in and followed his gaze to where it landed on Spencer.

  Words stalled in her throat. It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. Her brother’s friend was taking her out on the town, to teach her how to get laid.

  Right. Because she was going to tell Tristan that.

  “You’re two days early.” Spencer stepped forward, saving her from having to think of out-loud words.

  Tristan’s frown didn’t shift. “And you’re not.”

  “Trina’s been doing some work for us, and she’s part of the crew wiring the new building. We bumped into each other, she mentioned she didn’t have plans tonight, and I knew you wouldn’t want her going out alone.”

  It sounded so innocent and altruistic when Spencer talked about it. Was he smoothing things over for Tristan, or was that really how he saw the evening? As a way to keep her out of trouble?

  Tristan’s expression relaxed. “You have room for one more?”

  “Always, for you.” Like she could tell him no. Especially now. She grabbed her purse. “We’re on our way out, unless you want to hang out here a little longer.”

  “Out is good,” Tristan said. Every few seconds, he’d shift his weight or fidget with his watch or tug at his tie. He was having as difficult a time standing still as she was.

  “Did you have a location in mind?” Spencer asked.

  “Any place that lets me forget I’m almost forty.”

  Some of the flitting faeries in Trina’s head slammed into each other at the blatant reminder Spencer was more than a decade her senior. Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t here to hook up with her.

  Deep and throaty and sending shivers down her spine, Spencer’s laugh made her wish he was. “Dude, you’ve been going on forty for a couple of decades.”

  “Fuck you too.” Tristan didn’t sound offended. “I was thinking dancing and loud music.”

  “You were?” Trina couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. Her brother was a lot of good things. He was also uptight and reserved to a fault.

  Tristan’s look said he wasn’t amused by the jab.

  She stared back with the same flat expression.

  “There’s a club a few miles from here. Exactly what you’re looking for.” Spencer stepped between them.

  “I’m in,” Tristan said.

  Trina wasn’t sure she still was. Life wouldn’t be nearly as fun, with her brother watching her every move. Then again, if that was all Spencer planned to do—

  Her phone rang, disrupting her thoughts, and she grabbed it. “It’s work.”

  “Tell them to fuck off. You’re not on call tonight.” Spencer’s response made her smile.

  Tristan’s scowl contradicted it. “Take it. We’ll wait.”

  She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be an emergency or not, if this was an indicator of the rest of her night.

  It was Mason, asking for information about a call she’d taken earlier in the week. She gave him what he needed, told him she was sorry he had to work tonight, and hung up.

  When she turned
back to Tristan and Spencer, they were in the middle of a conversation. She did her best not to stare at Spencer and how good he looked. “All settled, we can go,” she said.

  “Great.” Tristan looked at Spencer. “Two cars, so you don’t have to come back here at the end of the night? You know where it is, so we’ll follow.”

  “Fantastic plan.” Was that disappointment in Spencer’s voice?

  It couldn’t be. Trina only imagined he reacted to the idea the same way she did.

  She and Tristan made small talk on the drive. How was work? Was there any place fun he should see while he was in town? Had he gotten some good boarding in this season?

  He’d been an Olympic snowboarder, silver medal in freestyle, when she was nine. His career ended a few months later, when he tore a hamstring during practice. That didn’t explain the odd, wistful look that crossed his face when she asked the question, though.

  The conversation faded after that, and Tristan seemed to climb inside his own head. Odd.

  They had to park a few blocks from the club, and Spencer suggested they stop for dinner before they did too much drinking. He knew a noodle place not too far away.

  It was crowded, with the line wrapping out the door. As they waited, the ambient chatter made it easy to not think up more random conversation. She didn’t mind the excuse of having to press close to Spencer, to make room, either. Not with the way his arm brushed her back or shoulder ever few seconds.

  “Snag us that table.” Tristan pointed her toward a spot at the far end of the room that opened up.

  “Sure. Order me something that looks good? You know what I like.” Trina reluctantly extracted herself from the coziness of the line and scurried to snag a seat before someone else did. It turned out waiting wasn’t too bad, either.

  In the bright restaurant lights, watching Spencer from a distance rather than the up-close they’d been each time they talked, she got the full picture. That was nice. As in really.

  Fifteen-ish minutes later, they joined her, and Tristan set a bowl in front of her. “Chicken. Extra hot.”

  “Thank you, big brother.” Saying the sing-song words was a habit she’d missed a little since she got here.