The Invitation 2: Surrender

by Roxy Sloane

I quickly run through my schedule in my head. We don’t have time to delay, I have to keep pushing them. Lawyers love to run cases into the ground with delays and continuances, but Adam doesn’t have the resources to keep this up for long – and my bosses in LA won’t let me stay out here forever.

  “Fine.” I agree in a clipped voice.

  “Don’t sound so gloomy, JJ. I promise we’ll have fun.”

  “Being stuck in a car with you while you go to some meeting? Sounds like a blast.”

  He chuckles. The warm sound sends a zing of pleasure through me, making my nipples tighten. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, darling.”

  His words spark a memory. I smile. “That’s what you said last time. And if I remember correctly, it ended with me running for my life through a field of cow shit while being chased by an angry bull.”

  He laughs. “You should have seen your face...”

  “When?” I protest, giggling. I walk to the bedroom and sit down on the bed. “When I was running from the two thousand pound steak? Or when you were laughing so hard helping me over the fence that you dropped me on my ass in a cow patty?”

  “God, it took me weeks to get that smell out of the upholstery...” Ash sighs.

  “Boohoo. That was my favorite skirt. Ruined.”

  “Yeah... I really liked that skirt.” Ash’s voice is full of amusement. “I went into mourning after it died. I remember when I’d follow you up the stairs, if I looked just right, I could see--”

  “Hey!” I protest, laughing.

  “You asked!” He chuckles, completely unashamed. I can’t help but laugh with him.

  For a moment, it feels like I have my best friend back. God, I’ve missed this. Missed him.

  I lay back on the soft mattress and close my eyes, listening intently to the other side. I can hear him breathing on other end of the phone.

  “I’ve missed this, JJ.” His voice is low and sincere. It sends a shiver down my spine—until I remember what’s brought us back together.

  He’s on the other side, and after the way he treated me in the boardroom during our last meeting, I can’t forget that he’s playing dirty.

  I sit up with a jolt. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I say in a clipped voice.

  “Right.” Ash recovers his business-like tone. “Nine AM sharp. Oh, and JJ? You should dress casual. Leave those sexy skirts at home this time. ”

  He hangs up before I can give him a piece of my mind.

  Did that just happen?

  He seriously just told me what to wear, like he has any kind of right at all?

  Jackass!

  I was planning on going to bed, but there’s no way I can relax now. I pull on a fluffy robe and grab my laptop, curling up in the living room with my case files. I’m determined to beat Ash, but I can’t get halfway through a legal brief without my frustration and anger boiling up again.

  Dammit. How does he still get under my skin? History is one thing, but the chemistry between us is still undeniable. It makes it even harder to accept that everything has changed. We used to get along so well, but now it’s all tense, awkward pauses and angry barbs.

  I wonder, would it be different now if he’d called?

  That night we spent together before he went back to England, I always said that it was a one-time thing. Scratching an itch, inevitable once you’ve put two red-blooded people together for so long. But our lives were heading in opposite directions. He had to go back to England and run his family business. I had to go start my career to become a hotshot lawyer.

  Still, it hurt like hell to never hear from him again.

  I always told myself it was for the best. Long-distance was the last thing either of us wanted, and even if we would have been able to make it work for a while, we were both way too opinionated and demanding to last for long. We would have crashed and burned. And that would have hurt.

  Even more than this situation hurts now?

  I shake the thought away. I’m not hurt, I’m competitive. And Ash can play all the mind games he wants, but I’m not giving up without a fight.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  I check my phone. Almost midnight. Who would be dropping by this late?

  Then I remember my mystery man. I quickly tie the robe and hurry across the room. I glance through the peep hole, but there’s no one waiting in the hall.

  Weird.

  I check again, then unlock the door and cautiously open it. There’s no one to be seen, but then my eyes fall on the table by the door.

  There’s another gift box waiting for me.

  I take it and shut the door behind me, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest.

  I carefully undo the ribbon and lift the lid open.

  Inside the box is a beautiful black silk blindfold.

  The message on the card reads,

  Soon.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “When you said we’d take our deposition on the road, this isn’t what I thought you meant!”

  I yell to be heard over the sound of the engine. We’re flying around an empty racetrack at top speed, so fast the world is just a blur outside the window. Ash grips the steering wheel tight, laughing as he pushes the engine even higher.

  150…. 170… 200…

  Holy shit!

  I grip my safety strap tight and send up a silent prayer that I’m not about to go out in a fireball of glory. For the first time, I wish I had followed Ash’s instructions and worn something casual. I dressed in my sexiest skirt and silk blouse just to spite him, with three-inch heels for good measure. Now, I’m crammed in the modified passenger seat of a real-life NASCAR race car, with a huge helmet crushing my hair and a headset probably smearing my makeup.

  “Having fun?” Ash’s voice comes over the headset. He takes a curve so fast it makes my stomach lurch.

  I’m too young to die! I want to go out when I’m old and grey, after a lifetime of great sex and extra bacon on the side.

  Ash wrenches the wheel and we go flying around another bend. “Relax,” he laughs, his voice coming out static in my ears. “I thought you loved speed.”

  “Speed yes. Dying in a fireball, no.”

  Ash just laughs. But as he keeps driving, I realize he’s focused on the road. He knows when to hit the gas and when to ease off to keep the car under control.

  He’s done this before.

  My panic turns to excitement. I’ve never gone this fast before, and Ash is right, I love the speed. It’s exhilarating and crazy, but just as I’m starting to enjoy myself, Ash slows down and heads back towards the pit.

  We come to a stop, and I take off my helmet.

  “So this was the important meeting you couldn’t miss?” I say, getting out of the car. Ash doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to play hooky for the fun of it.

  “One of my companies is in auto engineering,” he replies with a grin. Out of the office, he’s sexier than ever in jeans and a simple grey t-shirt that pulls just right across his arms and chest. The Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses add just a hint of California and for a moment, as he turns away and the sun shines on his dark hair, he looks just like my Ash.

  “We’re developing a new suspension system. Did you feel the fishtail on the turns?”

  I nod.

  “That’s the big flaw in the current models,” Ash explains, looking over the car. “You lose control too easy, it can cause a lot of crashes. If I throw enough money into research and development, our new design could revolutionize racing as we know it.”

  “How much money are we talking about?” I ask curiously.

  “The R&D is one thing, but to really do it right I need to buy a racing team. You have to test conditions, and we can’t risk sharing our proprietary technology with anyone else.”

  “Just…buy a race team,” I echo, dazed. I knew Ash was in the big leagues now, but this is crazy!

  “So all in, maybe seventy-five million,” Ash finishes with a casual shrug. “But if we get the new system right
, sky’s the limit. We can license to every major automobile manufacturer in the world. It’ll become the new gold standard for safety.”

  I’m still reeling. Seventy five million dollars?

  “What if you fail?” I counter. “It sounds like a huge risk.”

  He chuckles and takes a moment to remove his sunglasses and hook them into the collar of his shirt. “Well, then. I guess we’ll just call it a really expensive hobby.” Ash gives me a wink, every inch the carefree playboy with money to burn.

  But I don’t buy it.

  “You’re throwing around an enormous amount of money for something that might work.” I remind him. “That’s not a hobby.”

  “You’re right, it’s a huge amount of money. And it’ll definitely hurt my wallet if it goes south. But people die out there on the track every year because of flaws in their machines. I have the money to develop the technology that would stop those deaths, help keep those drivers safer. Don’t you think I should?”

  In that moment, he’s completely my Ash again. He’s full of passion and excitement, trying to change the world and make it a better place. He doesn’t look anything like that soulless robot in an Armani suit that sat across from me in the boardrooms and meetings this week.

  “Maybe we won’t be successful,” he continues, looking fired up. “But maybe we will, and one day, our technology will be used to save some family who have a blowout going seventy on the interstate. Somebody told me once,” he adds, giving me a look, “money doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it that counts.”

  That someone was me.

  “Trying to save the world a million dollars at a time?” I ask with a wry grin. Seeing him like this is so bittersweet that it hurts.

  “Something like that,” he smiles back. The wind blows, mussing his hair, and he looks exactly like the twenty-seven year old man I nearly fell in love with. “Now, are you ready for lunch?”

  “Lunch?” I snap out of my memories. “Not so fast, mister.” I flash him a grin, and hold out my hand for the keys. “It’s my turn to drive.”

  By the time Ash leads me to the owner’s box up in the stands, my heart is racing nearly as fast as the car I just pushed through those turns.

  “Driving a real car after this is going to be such a let-down,” I groan, adrenaline pumping in my veins. “I’m going to get so many tickets for speeding now.”

  Ash laughs. “What do you drive back in LA? No, let me guess,” he adds. “Hmm, a Shelby Cobra?”

  “How did you know?” I gasp in surprise.

  “You couldn’t shut up about that car,” Ash reminds me, grinning. “You said, when you got your big job, it would be the first thing on your list.”

  “Well, I was right. It was a present to myself after my first big bonus,” I explain, remembering how happy I was driving off the lot that day. “I needed something to blow all those fancy sports cars in Beverly Hills off the road.”

  “And I bet you look good doing it.” Ash is opening a door for me as he says it. I pause, thrown by the compliment. I look up straight into the full force of those magnetic blue eyes. He’s standing just inches away from me, his lean, muscular body so close I can feel the heat radiating from him.

  Damn, he’s sexy.

  I force myself to break the stare. I step into the box, set up at the top of the grandstand with a view of the track. It’s bright, modern, and airy with framed photographs of past winners on the walls and a table set for two with white linens and silver tableware.

  “Fancy,” I tease, walking over to the table. I reach for the chair, but Ash beats me to it. He pulls it out, waiting for me to sit. “A place like this, I was expecting hot dogs and beer.”

  “You read my mind.”

  Ash lifts the silver warming dishes to reveal two plates with gourmet burgers and fries. “And, the finishing touch,” he says, pulling a cold beer from the ice bucket.

  “You think of everything,” I smile.

  He takes a seat and I study him. He looks relaxed, like this is a date rather than a business meeting. In fact, this whole outing has felt like a date. But I push that thought to the side. It’s probably one of the tactics that got him where he is today: charm the pants off his opposition and lull them into submission.

  But I won’t fall for his games.

  “Are we going to talk about the case?” I ask, getting down to business. “Or was the whole point of this to show me that you have more money than God? Because I don’t care how deep your pockets are,” I add. “My client deserves what’s rightfully his.”

  “I’m not trying to prove anything.” He chuckles before taking a bite of his burger. “Eat up,” he urges. “Or have you turned into one of those girls who only picks at salad?”

  I narrow my eyes. “I eat what I want.” I’m tempted to leave my food untouched, just to prove a point. Then I feel my stomach rumble. Maybe not.

  I take a bite. Of course, it’s the best damn burger I’ve ever had. I carefully dab the corner of my mouth with the edge of my thumb and then suck the juice off before I can stop myself, closing my eyes to savor the taste. When I look up, Ash is watching me, tense. Good.

  “So, why did you bring me here?” I ask again. “Really.”

  “Maybe I was curious,” his smile turns intimate. “Maybe I just wanted to get you out of the office and find out what you’ve been doing the past couple years.”

  I snort. “Or maybe you want to dazzle me with your fancy cars and bottle service so I’ll be intimidated into dropping the lawsuit.”

  “Real fancy.” Ash holds up a french fry with a smirk.

  I shake my head. “Come on, be straight with me. You may not respect me, but you owe me that much.”

  Ash frowns. “I do respect you. I brought you here because I wanted to show you what I do. I’m not the bad guy here. Buying ideas, buying companies, making them work, that is my job. I’m not trying to screw people over.”

  “You’re not?” I shoot back. “Because my client is feeling pretty sore right about now.”

  Ashton leans back and studies me with a smile. “You haven’t changed, have you, JJ? Still as passionate and fiery as ever.”

  “I’m still me,” I glare. “You’re the one who got replaced by a heartless robot.”

  “Is that what you think of me?”

  Our eyes lock. I swear I see regret in his expression.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I shoot back. “It’s been years. I don’t know you at all anymore.”

  He looks away. “I guess I deserved that.”

  There’s silence for a moment. I pick at my food. My appetite is gone, there’s too much tension here between us.

  “So fill me in.” Ash’s voice comes at last. I look up. “What have you been doing these past few years?”

  Fine. “Took the Bar exam, passed the Bar exam. Got a job. Moved to L.A. Worked. The end. Does that cover it? Now stop dodging my questions,” I answer. “Why are you so determined to shut Adam out of the company? It’s his work too, he sweated blood for that program, and now you and his sleazeball ex-roommate are stealing it out from under him.”

  Ash arches an eyebrow. “Has it even crossed that stubborn head of yours that maybe Adam Granger is lying to you?”

  I tense up. “I could ask you the same thing. What if I’m right and Kellan Williams is a lying, thieving sociopath who pulled the wool over your eyes?”

  “All the evidence—“ Ash tries to talk, but I interrupt him.

  “There is no hard evidence that Kellan wrote the program either. He just happens to have the files. But why do you think he’s so hell-bent on releasing the program as soon as possible? VideoMine is years ahead of its time. There’s no other competition even close to it out there.”

  Ash looks at me for a long moment. “Find me evidence,” he says at last. “Find me one shred of real proof that you’re right and I’ll drop everything - Kellan, the launch, VideoMine, everything.”

  I pause. Is he for real?


  “You promise?” I ask.

  “I swear.” Ash’s gaze turns intense. I want to believe him, believe in his integrity, but then I remember the last promise he made to me. I’ll call as soon as I get settled back home.

  Look how that turned out.

  I give him a cool glare. “I don’t need your word,” I tell him, pushing my plate away. “I have the law on my side. And the law says you better get that checkbook ready, because you’re going to be paying through the roof.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ash drives us back to the city in his regular car. I sit, silent in the passenger seat, thinking about the past. One question keeps nagging at me, and after thirty miles of uncomfortable silence, I let it out.

  “Why didn’t you call?” I ask. “Back then, after grad school. I get that you didn’t want a relationship, but I was still your friend.”

  Ash takes a deep breath. He stares straight ahead at the road, but I see a flicker of tension in his jaw.

  “I wanted to,” he replies at last. “I didn’t plan to cut you off like that. But… Things just don’t always work out the way we plan.”

  I wait.

  “Life got complicated fast once I got back to England,” he tries to explain. “My father passed away before I had even unpacked my suitcases. Everyone fell apart. My younger brother was no use, he was off partying in the South of France. It was all down to me to get the estate in order and take over the company.”

  I feel a surge of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “How could you?” Ash sighs. “The truth is, I wanted to call you. You were probably the only person who could have made me feel better about the whole mess.”

  “So why didn’t you?” I venture. I’m still confused. “I would have been there for you if I’d known.”

  He shakes his head. “I just wanted to block it all out. It was like you represented everything I’d lost when I had to take on the mantle as head of the family. My dad made such a mess of things. It took me a year to turn the company into what I wanted it to be, and then there was another mess that I had to take care of…” he stops, his face darkening. Then he shakes it away.