“You’re so fucking juvenile sometimes.”
“No, I’m realistic. It’s in our blood as human beings. Good luck fighting the attraction between you two. Adhering to girl code has nothing on nature.”
I brush off his words. “Whatever you say, Coop.” Even if I wanted to pursue anything, there’s no way we’ll cross that line.
He hums softly in response, and we take a few more moments to enjoy the view. Then, out of a habit that comes from the familiarity of regular runs along the beach, Coop and I wordlessly turn around and begin a leisurely walk back to my car. The soft sounds of the ocean fill the silence and mix with our breathing, and a sense of peace fills me as we walk. My eyes casually glance around, but I’m not looking for anything or anyone in particular. I didn’t spot Perrie or her yoga class when we were running, and I’m not overly concerned about running into her now.
There’s a feeling in my gut we’ll see each other again soon, and my gut is never wrong.
9
Perrie
It’s been a week. A week filled with nonstop meetings, phone calls, scandals, cleanups—basically a week of hell—but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t loving it. There’s nothing quite like the thrill of chaos, especially ones that are work-related because I worked my tits off to get to where I’m at now, and I’m damn proud of myself for it.
It’s also been almost a week since I borrowed Sterling’s towel, the one that still smells like him despite me putting sweat all over it and washing it after. In the rare spare minutes I’ve had to myself, I’ve thought about how I’m going to return it to him. It shouldn’t be difficult, but it is. I need to play my cards right. He and I are on the road to being friends, and I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s not one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
No, that would be Rachel. You sure do know how to pick 'em.
I mentally flick the annoying devil from my shoulder and try to focus on work.
Apparently I fail at it because Blake walks into my office and tosses a pen my way, hitting me on the cheek.
“Hey, I’d like to keep both eyes in tact for a little while longer, thank you very much,” I say, eyes narrowing in her direction.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, ever,” she exaggerates, hands dancing in the air with frustration.
“Rawr,” I hiss, mocking her attitude. “Is someone having a bad day? Need a quick therapy session?”
“Do I ever,” Blake states right before collapsing onto the plush office chair opposite me. “I need a girls’ night.”
“We just had one,” I point out.
“But I’m desperate,” she pleads. “Desperate for a guy who isn’t sleazy and who I haven’t met on a dating app.”
“You’re on a dating app?” I ask, surprised. “Since when?”
“I’ve always had it, but I only pull it out every so often. Ya know, when I’m really lonely,” she confesses with a whisper.
“I have a feeling you’re about to propose something right now,” I guess. “What type of girls’ night do you want, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She plays coy. “Like a party.”
“A party?” I question, perking up a bit. “What kind of party?”
“You know, like the types we used to have in college.”
I shiver at the thought. I only remember bits and pieces about those parties, which is probably for the best. It’s better that way. Besides, if the photos were any indication, my blackout nights with an arguably unhealthy consumption of alcohol were the most memorable, despite me not remembering most of it, of course.
“That was only, like, a handful of years ago.” I laugh. “Besides, I doubt we’d be able to recreate the epicness that took place those nights.”
“Just think about it for a second,” she tries again. “We could host our very own throwback-type party, complete with single men and women desperate for some good loving, and who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life.”
“You’re such a wishful thinker. It’s cute, it really is.”
Her eyes shoot darts my way. “Perrie, I’m being serious. We could even turn it into a work thing, mix business with pleasure. Theme it up, invite some clients, possibly rent a beach house.”
That grabs my attention. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you already planned it out, sent out the invitations, and handled catering. A party like this takes time to plan. It isn’t done on a whim, especially not when it comes to you, someone who doesn’t half-ass anything.”
“Was there a question in there somewhere?” Blake asks innocently.
“Yes. You planned a business event and didn’t tell me about it?” I throw a handful of paperclips at her.
“I meant to,” she starts to defend herself.
“You know I don’t like to mix business with pleasure, Blake,” I say, only half-believing my own words.
“I know, which is why I only invited the people from our class with great connections themselves, plus our existing clientele and potential ones.”
“You’ve thought this all through already, haven’t you?” I ask, more than a little amazed at my best friend slash assistant.
“I sure did.” She smirks. “But it isn’t throwback themed. Not really. Though it really should be. It’s casual, classy, and fun, our three favorite things.”
I mull it over for a moment. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She perks up. “I mean, it’s not like you could have said no anyway because everything is already set up and paid for but still, yay, it’s going to be amazing.”
“When is this event happening? And you actually rented a beach house for an evening?”
“This Saturday, and more like a whole day,” she quickly shares before running out of my office.
“You mean, like, tomorrow?” I yell just as she closes the door behind her.
Blake is insane. This isn’t the first time she’s forgotten to clue me in on a company event. Actually, her description of it sounds vaguely familiar.
I skim through my email and find an e-invite from weeks ago with the exact details of the party. Of course. Now that I think about it, I do vaguely remember her mentioning wanting to put together an annual company beach day, and she clearly wasted no time getting it started. It’s something I probably should have remembered, but it’ll be a good time. Besides, these types of details are what I have Blake for.
The more I think about it, a party does sound like a lot of fun. As much as I hate to admit it—because, again, this week has been exhilarating and work-filled—it’s better to let loose before the stress gets to my head, which, let’s be honest, it sometimes does.
You need more play and less work, that’s what you need, girl.
Isn’t that the truth?
I shake my head. So, why the big production of her coming in here all exasperated? Because Blake is dramatic, that’s why, almost as dramatic as me.
I guess I have a party to prepare for.
I blink rapidly, posture straightening as realization hits. As bad as it probably is with her connections, Blake knows not to invite Rachel to any business functions unless absolutely necessary, and since this is a beach party, I know Blake wouldn’t have invited her.
That means only one thing: I now have the perfect opportunity and place to give Sterling his towel back. Why I’ve never invited someone as powerful as him to one of these things, I’ll never know.
Actually, scratch that, I do know. It was because of Rachel. I didn’t want to step into her territory. She was jealous enough. But now? Now, Sterling and I are developing a sort of friendship all on our own, which makes this the obvious thing to do.
I type in a few key words into the search engine, and his company information pops up. Easy-peasy. I love the internet.
I grab my phone and punch in the number to his office, my finger halting above the call button.
“Are you seriously nervous right now?” I whisper harshly to myself. “You’re not a tween an
ymore, Perrie. You’re influential, hot, and awesome. You can do this.”
I roll my eyes at my own ridiculousness and get it over with, hitting the call button. I wait patiently as the phone rings, but my body is ill-prepared for the shock-like effect that filters through my system when the ringing stops, indicating that someone is on the other end.
“Mr. Montgomery’s office, how may I help you?”
I breathe a sigh of slight relief. It’s just his secretary or assistant or someone not Sterling.
“Hi, yes,” I blab, once again rolling my eyes at how uncool I’m being. I really need to get my itch properly scratched. “This is Perrie Ayala calling to speak with Sterling, er, Mr. Montgomery. I’m a friend of his.”
“Ms. Ayala, I can patch you on through,” she states, shuffling through papers in the background. “You caught him at a good time.”
She seems friendly, which is probably why she’s in charge of manning his phone line.
“A good time?” I ask, a little curious.
“Yes, he’s a very busy man, and he’s usually not in his office when women like yourself call,” she shares, the tone of her voice staying professional and upbeat, but I swear I detect a hint of irritation or something.
But it makes sense. I can only imagine the amount of women who try to get ahold of him on the daily. I don’t even think I can count that high, not without a few pauses in between at least.
Before I can say something in response to her statement, she beats me to it.
“I’m sending you over now,” she says sweetly.
For a few moments, there’s nothing but silence on the other end, and then that shock-like feeling returns, starting at the tips of my toes and traveling north.
If he wasn’t so attractive, this really wouldn’t be an issue.
If you weren’t more innocent than you seemed then it wouldn’t be an issue also.
I ignore my inner red vixen.
“Perrie,” Sterling’s voice says huskily from the other end of the line. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“Have you?” I manage. “I never said I’d call you.”
“No, but your assistant Blake did.” He chuckles.
It’s official, I’m going to stab her with a fork as soon as I’m through with this conversation.
Back to the task at hand.
“I have your towel, and I know just the place to give it back,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair like I’m about to make a very important business transaction.
A new game is about to begin, and I am more than ready for my play. His? Not so much.
Friends have fun, I convince myself. Why should our developing friendship be any different?
If he accepts my invitation, Saturday is about to get a whole hell of a lot more interesting.
10
Sterling
“I’m listening.”
I place the call on speaker, lean back in my chair, and wait for her reply. There’s a beat of silence, and her quick intake of breath drifts into my office before she speaks.
“How much did Blake tell you?” She sounds hesitant, and the usual fire she spits my way is missing.
“Not enough.” Blake told me everything, but I’m not going to miss the chance to talk to her. “Spit it out, Perrie. We may be friends now, but I don’t have all day to chitchat. I’m a busy man.”
“Yeah, yeah. You have an empire to run and all. I get it. In case you can’t tell from my voice, I’m rolling my eyes right now.” There she is. “I’ll make this quick. You probably already know I own a public relations company, and this weekend we’re putting together a mixer of sorts at a beach house we’ve rented out. The party isn’t formal by any means, and we’ve invited friends from college who’ve started their own businesses, as well as some of our clients. We thought it’d be a great way to network with other influential leaders from different businesses in a setting that isn’t so stuffy.”
“That’s short notice. Are your company events always so last minute, or am I a last minute addition? For being a new friend, I don’t feel very important.”
“Oh, God. Get over yourself.” She laughs into the line, and I smile at the sound. “It was a last minute thing.”
“And what makes you think I could benefit from going to this party of yours?”
“Besides getting your towel back—by the way, who has monogrammed towels nowadays?—you might make some new business connections.”
“Don’t knock the towel you willingly used,” I chide. “At the risk of sounding cocky, I think more people will benefit from me being there than vice versa.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Listen, Perrie, I’ll be blunt. The last thing I want to do is mingle with a group of people who want something from me. Considering my family and business connections, it happens all the time, but I can deal with it throughout the week when I’m in the mindset to deal with it. If I can help it, I avoid that shit on my free time.”
She huffs into the line, and I can tell she’s trying to marshal her thoughts. “Ugh, are you always this difficult?”
“My time is precious. You’ll need to work harder to convince me to subject myself to people clamoring for my attention.”
She starts to mumble under her breath, and while I can’t catch the words, she sounds disgruntled. “Fine, I’ll be blunt too. Our end goal for this party is a little more self-serving than casual business networking. We need an excuse to get everyone together, and it’s really so we can all relax and find connections of a different variety.”
“A different variety being…?” I know what she’s trying to get at, but I enjoy hearing her try to convince me. When Blake called earlier to invite me, I decided then and there I’d go. It’s the perfect excuse to see Perrie, and I’m opportunistic enough to take the chance she’s handing over like a newly wrapped present.
“My friend wants to get laid, Sterling. Okay? God, you’re a pain in the ass. There might be real networking going on at some point,” she says, sounding doubtful. “But it’s an excuse for our friends and clients to get together and drink.”
“Is that a wise way to use company resources? I can’t imagine using company funds on your party is being financially responsible.”
“My business, my decisions. Besides, we’ve done this a time or two. You’d be surprised how willing people are to work with you when you hook them up with a hot friend. They remember that kind of thing, and the referrals always come back our way. It works for us.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Are you happy now that that’s all out in the open?”
“Yes, I am. Honesty will get you a lot further with me than beating around the bush, Esperanza. You’ll do well to remember that.”
“It’s Perrie,” she growls out. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
“Okay, friend, do you have a pen handy?”
“Yes, why?”
“Here’s my cell number.” I rattle off the numbers for her. “Text me the details, and I’ll be sure to show. I hope, for your sake, you have some hot friends.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, and the increasingly long pause makes me wonder if she hung up.
“Of course I do,” she says brusquely. “I hope you find what you’re looking for on Saturday. I’ll see you then.”
She hangs up before I can say anything, and I smile to myself as I twirl my pen between my fingers.
“I’m sure I will, Perrie,” I muse out loud to my empty office. “I’m sure I will.”
My driver drops me and Coop off at the party two hours after the designated start time, and it looks like things are in full swing if we’re judging by the number of cars parked bumper-to-bumper in the driveway. I have no clue how late the party will run, but I’m glad I opted to have a driver on standby so that I can avoid having to repeatedly move my car.
“Looks like it should be a good time,” he observes. “Gotta admit, I’m a bit surprised at the
turnout.”
“I’m not. Perrie and her friend have personalities you can’t ignore, and a party of theirs is too intriguing to turn down.”
He hums in agreement, and we make our way up the staircase that leads to the front door. We check the doorknob before knocking, and we make our way inside when we realize it’s unlocked. I walk in as if I own the place—a byproduct of my upbringing—and the thumping music and sounds of clinking glasses and idle chatter greet us.
The house is spacious, and the open floor plan lends well to the atmosphere because there’s a large crush of bodies dancing in the center of the room. I briefly admire the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the ocean and maneuver around the small groups of people scattered about who are mingling.
I feel their curious eyes as we pass them, but I don’t pay them any attention. I’m sure I ignore a few attempts at catching my attention, but I can’t find it in me to care. Instead, my gaze roams the room until it lands on the one person I came to see.
She’s dressed to kill in a strappy black top, tantalizingly tight jeans that make me wonder how they were put on in the first place, and red heels. She must feel my stare because she swivels her head in my direction, and her glossy hair swings gently with the movement. Awareness slams into me at the look of happiness, surprise, and challenge in her eyes. It’s an intoxicating combination, and I walk toward her with purpose in each stride.
Her spine straightens and her chin lifts as I get closer, and I fight the primal urge to answer the look she’s giving me in a way that doesn’t require words.
“You made it,” she says in greeting.
“I did. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a friend with me. Perrie, meet Cooper, my best friend. Cooper, meet Perrie, my new friend.”
“The more, the merrier. Nice to meet you, Cooper.”
“And you, Perrie, although I believe we met before years ago.”
He gives her a charming smile, and they shake hands before she pulls away.
“Did you two have any trouble finding the house? I don’t know what it is about this place, but it messes with GPS.” She doesn’t say it, but I know she’s wondering why we’re late.
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