Desire (Venture Capitalist Book 3)

by Ainsley St Claire

  Turning to me, Jim asks, “This may be ignorance on my part, but how often do you get similar proposals that only vary by technology?”

  “We try to stay away from those that are essentially the same idea with different technology approaches. We tend to favor more unique concepts,” I tell him.

  Jim crosses his arms and thinks a few moments. “Okay, has anyone ever accused you of stealing or sharing their technology?”

  “We’ve had a few disgruntled applicants. I have a file here on my laptop.” After a few clicks, Sara looks up and says, “You have the file in your inbox. In it are multiple documents with a few that have some legal proceedings attached.”

  “Good.” Turning to Emerson, he asks, “Has anyone on your team mentioned anything about a client who’s unhappy with you?”

  “No. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Would they tell you if they did hear anything?”

  Emerson thinks a moment. “I believe so. If their client’s unhappy with us, it typically means they’ll be out of a job, so they want things fixed.”

  “Cynthia, Greer, this mess started before the two of you joined the firm, but you have fresh eyes. Any thoughts?”

  Both girls shake their heads and say, “No,” in unison.

  “What do you think our next steps should be?” Charles asks Jim.

  “I think we should sit with each of you and get into some of your histories to see if we can uncover something in your personal lives. From there, we may determine if we should meet with your teams.”

  We talk for a while longer and order Chinese takeout as we dissect who it could be, including a woman I ghosted last year when I learned she was dating someone else. She was pretty upset that I wasn’t interested in her leaving her boyfriend for me.

  My personal life’s a mess with my dad. Things are not pretty with Hadlee right now, and this shit at work’s a giant clusterfuck.

  Why can’t one thing go right?

  Hadlee

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I stop by my house on my way home from work. The construction is going so slow. I’m grateful that Cameron put a call into the insurance company and they agreed to pay for the reconstruction, so now I have a contractor, but they haven’t done much.

  I spoke with the architect, and we discussed some potential changes to the house. I’m putting in a bay window in the front room which will add some curb appeal, and we’re redesigning the kitchen. I’m excited to finally have a kitchen for someone who cooks.

  As I look around the black cavern that was once my living room, they’ve barely begun gutting the debris or pulling down the wall between the dining room and kitchen. It doesn’t look like they’ve done much more than cover the hole in the ceiling.

  If Cameron and I were talking, I’d ask him to put a call in to the contractor and see if he couldn’t get him to move along. But we really aren’t talking, so that isn’t going to happen.

  I want my house back. I’ll miss being so close to Cameron, but I think I may be overstaying my welcome.

  Why is it that these guys won’t move when a woman asks them, but bring in a six-foot-four man and they jump right to it?

  I work four days a week, which usually means I have Fridays off. I’m all packed to meet the girls for our weekend in Napa.

  I haven’t spoken to Cameron all week. I guess we’ve moved to “friends who occasionally enjoy playing together naked.” A little voice in my head reminds me that sleeping with my landlord was a mistake, but I can’t help but be a little bit disappointed. We get along well when we’re wearing clothes, after, so it isn’t only my body craving his touch.

  CeCe picks me up on her way to get Emerson and Greer. Unfortunately, Sara can’t join us. She’s doing some destination wedding planning with CeCe’s mom and her foster mom. She was so sweet to ask me to be in the wedding, but I’m afraid I’ll always be the bridesmaid and never the bride.

  I’m just feeling sorry for myself is all. I want to tell my friends how disappointed I am, but he’s their friend and coworker, and I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose between the two of us. I’m going to pick myself up off the proverbial floor and pretend my body doesn’t ache for his touch.

  As I load my suitcase in CeCe’s Land Rover, I climb in next to her. With a twinkle in her eye, she asks, “You look wonderful. You have a glow about you. Anything new going on you wish to share?”

  Chuckling, I tell her, “Nothing new. The house is under construction, and I’m still boring.”

  We pick up Emerson and Greer from their office and then head north into Napa, talking about our jobs, our love lives, and fashion. My favorite subjects.

  CeCe randomly asks, “What the hell’s going on with Mason and Annabel?”

  “I know, right? Apparently Mason told Sara that Annabel would be moving in with him, but she needs to find another job first,” Emerson shares.

  “Good grief. Really? Moving in? That’s too bad,” I tell them.

  “Well on the positive side, it would take the prospect of a sexual harassment suit off the table if she were to find another job that was better than the one she has now.”

  “What’s she qualified for?”

  “Looking pretty and snagging a rich man,” CeCe retorts.

  Emerson snorts. We’re getting rowdy, and we haven’t even had a glass of wine yet. “No shit,” Greer exclaims.

  “Then it’s safe to assume she’s a firecracker in bed,” I comment. “How come I can’t snag a good guy? I think I’m pretty decent in bed.” In an attempt to be funny, I put my hands beneath my breasts and lift them up. “And talk about a pair of knockers.”

  “I’m pretty jealous of those,” CeCe chimes in. “You’ve been turning heads for years, and I’ve been your faithful sidekick.”

  “I don’t think you’re anyone’s sidekick,” Emerson says.

  CeCe glances in her rearview mirror at us. “I hate to break it to you, but with her rack, we’re all sidekicks.”

  “I’d happily give them to you. I’d give you all some. They attract too much attention. My back hurts, and I can’t sleep on my stomach. I’ll give you half, even.”

  We all giggle at that.

  “Hadlee, how are things going with Cameron?” Greer asks.

  I internally cringe. I hate that we aren’t more. “He’s dealing with his dad, and he’s a good landlord.”

  “Wait, I thought you were hanging out with him last weekend?”

  “Not really. He took me for a ride in his Porsche. He’s becoming a good friend.”

  CeCe pouts. “You didn’t tell me he took you for a ride. The big question I have is if it’s friends with benefits.”

  I hate that I want to lie to my friends, but I don’t want the extra questions or to explain how our sex life has a slight naughty bend to it. Since his father’s arrival, there’s been a distance. I understand why, but I need to protect myself from getting hurt. “No, just tenant and landlord.”

  As we make the winding drive from Highway 1 into Napa, I stare at the acres after acres of vineyards as far as the eye can see. This area is uniquely California, and it’s so beautiful as we head through the towns next to the rolling hills of grapes.

  I don’t want to talk about Cameron. He’s still giving me the silent treatment for asking about his dad. I hear his dad occasionally, and sometimes I’ll spot him on the patio, so I know he’s still around. It makes me wonder if he’s told Cameron that he’s sick.

  I just need to put it all behind me and enjoy my time with my friends.

  We arrive at the Meadowood Spa and Resort. It’s my birthday weekend, and I’m excited to get away. CeCe always makes a big deal about my birthday because she knows it’s also the anniversary of my mother’s death.

  Meadowood is a stunning five-star resort in the middle of Napa. Rather than a hotel, it’s covered with small chalets with multiple themes and is a pure oasis a short distance from the hustle and bustle of San Francisco. My favorite is the spa. We hav
e several treatments planned this weekend, and I can’t wait.

  When we arrive, they call CeCe by name. She’s made reservations for us in two of the Hillside Majestic chalets. They’re two-bedroom chalets, and I’m staying with CeCe. We’re given driving directions to our specific cabins, and the footmen meet us as we arrive to move our luggage to our rooms.

  Standing at the grand window, the views are spectacular. CeCe hands me a cup of tea. “It must’ve been super difficult for you at work these past few weeks. Diagnosing a child with a terminal illness must be so devastating. And I haven’t forgotten all you’ve been through with the fire, but remember our goal is to pamper ourselves. I got you this weekend. This is your birthday present. Please don’t let everything going on at home keep you from enjoying your weekend.”

  I give her a big hug. “CeCe, I’m not sure what I would do if I didn’t have you.”

  “Greer, Emerson, and Sara would take great care of you.”

  “Not like you do. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend and sister from another mother. I still make a decent living, and I can swing things this weekend.”

  “I know you can, but this weekend is for your birthday—and setting up Greer with Andy.”

  “She’s going to love him. He’s handsome and seems perfect for her. We’re heading over later this afternoon?”

  “Yes. We have our first round of spa treatments after brunch. We should be nicely relaxed by that point, and then Meadowood’s shuttle will meet us at three to take us over. Don’t tell Greer, but I’ve asked Andy to personally give us a tour of his vineyard.”

  “Does he realize you’re trying to fix him up?”

  “I’ll never tell,” she says with a smirk.

  “I think it’ll be pretty obvious what you’re up to, CeCe.”

  “Don’t worry, missy. I have my eye on someone for you, too.”

  “I think I need to focus on work and me for a while.”

  “I understand.” She gives me another big hug. “Finish your tea and let’s get over and start enjoying the amenities of the spa. I want to delight in the relaxation gardens and dip in the mineral pool before I get my facial and seaweed wrap.”

  “I’m excited about the private spa suites. All those fragrant soaps, oils, and lotions to enjoy? I must warn you, I may be jelly by the time I get to Andy’s.”

  “And jelly’s what you deserve to be.” CeCe gives me an encouraging squeeze.

  I reach into my suitcase and pull out my cosmetics bag, the outfit that Jennifer at Nordstrom’s pulled together for me, and the bikini I wore in Colorado. I’m ready to go. We won’t be returning to our room until after dinner this evening, and we’ll get ready in the Zen of the spa for our afternoon and evening.

  Meadowood is known for having private suites for their guests of the spa for treatments, or you can sit in saunas with friends and enjoy time with others. I carry stress in my back, so getting the knots worked out of it is my first priority.

  I have fifteen minutes before my massage, so I walk into my suite and enjoy the view of rolling green hills filled with various grape vines and fruit orchards. Unpacking my dress for the evening, I hang it up on a hook in the huge bathroom. Staring at the jetted tub, I can’t wait to use the bath bombs I ordered after my massage.

  Soft sounds of running water can be heard over speakers. Undressing, I put on the plush terry cloth robe and feel the relaxation beginning. The stress of the fire, challenges at work, my stepmother’s mess, and the absence of Cameron in my sex life floats away, leaving me serene and content.

  There’s s a knock at the door, and the concierge peeks in. “Ms. Ford, Raul, your therapist, will be here in a few short minutes. I have your sheet here. He’s to work on knots in your back, and you’re good with lavender oil. Anything else?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Do you need anything before he arrives?”

  “No, thank you. I should be all set.”

  Lying facedown, I rest my face in a cradle and a pillow under my shoulders to take the pressure off my breasts. I’m naked under the covers as I listen to the rainfall sounds coming from the speakers. My mind is busy and moving like a pinball stuck between bumpers. I concentrate on my breathing, and slowly the tension eases.

  There’s another soft knock and Raul enters. Through the cradle, I can tell he’s lowered the lights. “Ms. Ford, I understand you would like some extra attention paid to your upper back. Please let me know if the pressure becomes too much.”

  I smell the sweet scent of the lavender filling the air as I hear the squish of oil squeezed from a bottle. His first touch is gentle, and his hands are warm, the massage oil allowing them to glide smoothly over my bare skin. Moving around my back, he works from a slow, soothing massage with light pressure to a more vigorous treatment. When it comes to my upper back, Raul uses firm pressure throughout the massage, warming the tissue up and then applying pressure in a slow and focused way, coaxing the muscles and knots to release. At times it’s sharp, though not painful, but once the knots release, there is a sigh of relief. I’m so relaxed I vacillate between a light slumber and total relaxation. It’s ninety minutes of pure ecstasy.

  When Raul finishes, he quietly says, “Please take your time getting up. You have a large glass of water to drink, and please consider a bath in the jetted tub. If you need anything, the concierge can get it and have it delivered to your room.”

  I hear the door to my suite open and close as Raul exits, and I’m slow to sit up, completely relaxed and content. Slowly I move into the bathroom and start the warm water in the tub. It fills quickly, and I turn the jets on. When I drop in two bath bombs, the room is filled with the smell of lavender and a hint of vanilla. Resting my head back, I snooze slightly. I don’t think about work, my house fire, or Cameron. My mind and body are relaxed, and I only get out of the tub because the water has become tepid and I’m beginning to get cold.

  Glancing at the clock, I have about an hour before it’s time to leave. I use liberal amounts of lotion and begin the process of getting ready for our winery visit and eventually dinner.

  CeCe and I have a favorite winery—Bellissima Valle, which is only three years into making wine. Andy Giordano owns the vineyard along with his family. He comes from an Italian winemaking family, and he brought grapes from his family vineyards in Italy and Argentina. Napa’s warm summers and temperate winters make the grapes perfect for great red wines. We make arrangements with Meadowood’s car service to be dropped at the vineyard, the car staying to wait for us unless another guest calls We can always get a ride back with Lyft if the happens.

  CeCe and I found Bellissima Valle on accident. One of my friends from residency had shared a winery she liked when she’d been wandering around St. Helena in Napa Valley. It was new, and she kept calling it “undiscovered.” We decided to try to find it. I can be a bit directionally challenged, and CeCe’s always a good sport to tag along to visit a winery on a Saturday afternoon. We followed a winding road until we topped a crest and looked across the acres of grapes. It was so beautiful, and sitting in the center was this winery surrounded by wide olive trees and large warehouses that look like giant metal barns.

  Maybe it called to us because of the Italian influence rather than the French, which is often found in Napa, but we found ourselves at Bellissima. We could see the Tuscan-style villa from the road, and the tasting room signs inviting us to join them seemed to call to us, so we stopped.

  Exiting CeCe’s Land Rover, we walked across the gravel driveway into what looked like an old farmhouse imported from Italy. We loved it at first sight. When we entered the room, a gentleman came over and immediately introduced himself in a thick Italian accent as Andrea, but to call him Andy. He was preparing to close for the day, but he poured us two glasses of his favorite wine and chatted with us for over an hour about his passion for wine and the business.

  We were in love with Bellissima from that moment on. CeCe and I have been here often and bought a
lot of wine from them ever since.

  Driving over the rain-kissed streets, my breath is once again taken away by the views of the grapes. Bellissima is becoming more popular. I’m happy that people are discovering them, but nothing beats the exclusivity of our first visit. When we walk in, the tasting room’s busy, but CeCe spots our regular table and sits down.

  Sophia, Andy’s sister, walks up with her arms open. “La mia bella CeCe!”

  CeCe stands to greet her, and they hug and kiss on each cheek. She turns and introduces everyone to Sophia, and we each order the red flight of tastings—the merlot, cabernet sauvignon, and a red blend.

  “I’m impressed with how busy you are,” CeCe tells her.

  “Oh, I know. We couldn’t give this away two years ago, and now we have certain wines people are buying futures for.”

  “Future years?” Emerson asks. “How far ahead?” She blushes after asking the personal question. “I’m mean, if I wanted to buy the wine, how far in the future would I be buying?”

  “It’s okay. We require a case purchase, and we’re close to selling out two years from now and will soon move to three.”

  Emerson turns to Greer. “Now I understand your passion for wine as a business.”

  Sophia turns to retrieve our wine, and we’re left to take in the tasting room. It’s dimly lit, making me feel as if I’m in the heart of a wine cellar. The walls are covered in rows of large wooden casks, each marked with a grape type and a year. These casks are all from last year. It blows my mind that they’ve come to use their tasting room as storage and are selling futures. I’m happy for Andy and his sister that they’ve become such a success.

  The room sports maybe a dozen tables, each one full of guests drinking samples, and people are standing at the bar speaking with the staff member who pours the wine.

  As we finish our tasting, Andy arrives open-armed. In a thick Italian accent, he draws out, “CeCe,” then hugs her and kisses her on both cheeks. Turning to me, he does the same. “Hadlee, you’re more beautiful each time I see you.”