Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  “Actually, we went to Yale together. It was a coincidence we ended up at the same firm. I only hope we both get to stay there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s Townsend Price policy. Only three first-year associates get to stay on for another year.”

  A group of girls a few years younger had been eyeing Josh. One tapped him on the shoulder to take a picture of them. He amiably complied, and one of the girls shot a look behind Josh’s back to see my reaction.

  Jealousy wasn’t really my thing. I watched, entertained, as Josh went along with it, making them pose in silly ways. The girls giggled.

  Josh dropped back onto the ground beside me a minute later, picking up our conversation right where we’d left off. “Here’s the thing about Nate. He’s had the right opportunities but he’s also worked really hard. He’s forced into the spotlight a lot, but he’s actually private. I mean, it’s no wonder, given who his dad is.”

  “Nathan Townsend, resident it-guy,” I joked.

  Josh watched me for a minute. “You know, when I first saw you together, I wondered if there was something going on. The guy hasn’t dated in forever, so I would’ve been glad for him. But when Nate said there was nothing, it was like I’d just caught the world’s biggest break.”

  He really used the word “nothing”?

  Of course I wouldn’t have wanted him to tell his friend we’d hooked up. What had I expected him to say?

  I pushed it out of my mind.

  Josh and I talked for nearly four hours about everything under the sun. He told me he came from a blue-collar family. Fell in love with law through television.

  “It was all Jerry Orbach. He had me with those serious eyebrows. Could get a perp to confess just by looking at him.” I laughed at his Law & Order reference.

  Josh was the one who eventually said he had go to prep for court Monday. When he dropped me off, he walked me to the door of my building. I looked up at him, his eyes warm on mine, his body strong and close.

  “I had a great time with you, Ava.”

  “Me too.”

  Josh bent down to kiss me and I let him.

  He’d clearly kissed a girl or two in his time, and I sank into the feel of his warm lips moving over mine. Smooth, sexy. I felt the heat roll down my spine. Not out of control. But … welcome. Luxurious.

  I refused to compare it to kissing Nate.

  Josh didn’t push his luck but let go of me with a smile, promising to call. I wanted him to.

  9

  Ava

  I curled up with my sketchpad at Lindy’s Monday afternoon. The day before Lex had innocently mentioned the magazine was working on the editions that would feature spring collections. So we had to get our asses in gear.

  I tried all the usual tricks to get my creative juices flowing. Listening to music. People-watching. Drawing flowers, animals, and abstract shapes before going back to clothes.

  Nothing happened.

  By the time I looked up again it was six pm. None of the new skirts or tops I’d come up with worked, together or on their own. After wasting dozens of sheets I tossed my pad on the couch in front of me, squeezing my eyes shut. Angry tears burned behind them.

  “Lindy, can I get a large black?”

  When I looked up, my neighbor was across the café at the long oak counter.

  “Working late tonight, sweetie?” Lindy asked him while she rang up his order.

  “Yeah, but at least it’s from home.”

  “Sure thing, hon. I’ll bring it over.”

  If Nate was handsome in a suit, he was devastating in a black T-shirt and jeans. Already annoyed with myself for not getting anything done today, I let my eyes run down his body. Bit my tongue to keep from moaning. We’d never get another shot at last year, but there was no denying the long and exotic list of things I’d do with that much Nate Townsend pressed up against me.

  Though we’d only gone out once, I was attracted to Josh and pretty sure he liked me. But my libido was playing fast and loose. Which explained why I was reacting like Nate Townsend was a giant bar of Swiss chocolate and I’d been on a diet.

  For almost seven months.

  I started twirling my pencil in my fingers to distract myself. A trick I’d learned a long time ago, it’d stuck with me even though I hadn’t done it in a while. I could build up some pretty good speed.

  Nate turned and caught me looking.

  Under his heavy stare, my thumb stuttered and the pencil I’d been wrangling escaped, arcing gracefully away from me.

  The horror played out in slow motion. The pencil caught the lip of a coffee mug on the next table and bounced inside, kicking up droplets at the surprised-looking man sitting there.

  “Fuck!” I jumped up. The guy was probably eighty, and his eyes widened behind thick glasses. Up close I could see where the coffee stained his shirtsleeve.

  “Ohmigod I’m so sorry.” I ordered a fresh drink from Lindy, grabbing some napkins while I was at the counter, then went back to the man, dabbing at the spots on his shirt.

  When I finally turned back to my couch, red with embarrassment over assaulting a senior citizen, Nate had taken a seat at the opposite end. He had my sketchpad in one hand and my pencil, which he must’ve fished out of the man’s drink, in the other. He held both out for me and I took them as coolly as I could.

  “Just practicing for the circus. Mom always said it was good to have a backup career.”

  “Are you kidding? You made that man’s day.” A faint smile appeared in his eyes. Eyes that were brighter today than I’d seen them, though maybe it was a trick of the light.

  We hadn’t crossed paths in the three days since the gala, when I’d found myself practically backed up against a painting with him on top of me.

  The worst part: I’d liked it. I’d liked it a lot. In fact, before he’d turned all smug at the end, I’d been dangerously close to committing a random act of hormones. Had thought more than once of that mouth on mine, those hands on my skin, that hard body grinding into mine…

  “What are you working on?” Nate leaned forward, nodding to my sketchpad. I ignored the way the denim tightened over his legs.

  “Travesty’s spring line.” I gestured to the man I’d interrupted. “Copying from that guy over there, actually. He’s the next Tom Ford.”

  He took my prompt about the lawsuit. “You heard about the motion.”

  And just like that, my mood got worse. “Yeah.”

  John had phoned us earlier in the day to let us know our first attempt to get the case thrown out hadn’t worked. Lex and I had sat in silence for more than a few minutes after hanging up. It had been a reality check. We’d hoped this would’ve been the end of it. Instead, John had prepared us for the worst: that if we wanted to fight this in court, it could take months.

  “Most judges would’ve thrown the case out.” Nate’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  The “raises money for charity” Nate Townsend was clashing in my mind with the “sues helpless girls” version. It made my head hurt.

  I looked at him, eyes narrowed. “You know who you are right now? You’re the airline agent,” I accused. “You know. The one who sympathizes with customers while he swipes their credit cards for extra baggage fees.”

  He frowned at my comparison. “Ava, lawsuits can suck. But they’re necessary. Part of a system to restore justice. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

  “You’re completely missing the point. We don’t have two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Nate. So why are you doing this?”

  “I shouldn’t be talking about this. Hell, I shouldn’t be talking with you at all.” His jaw worked like he was trying to decide how much to say. In the end he leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “The thing is, I can advise Bryson all day long. But when it comes down to it, I work for him, Ava. Not the other way around.”

  “Do you think we did it?”

  “What?” He looked surprised.

  “I
t’s a simple question. Do you think we—I—did it? Copied Bryson’s work.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

  “It does.” To me, it does.

  He scratched his head. “If I’d known it was you I wouldn’t have taken the case.”

  “That’s not an answer. But if you think we did it, why do you even care? About me and Lex.”

  Nate leaned back on the couch, one arm stretched across the back. He glanced out the window. For a moment, in the T-shirt and jeans, he could’ve passed for a student, except for the heavy expression on his face. I had a strange impulse to draw him.

  Finally, he turned back. “Are you asking me not to care?” His eyes were moody and the effect added dangerous undertones to his words.

  Lindy took that opportunity to bring over Nate’s coffee, breaking the tension. “Nate, honey, I wanted you to meet Ava, but it looks like you’re already friends. Ava’s new in town. And she’s single. Can you believe it? This gorgeous little ray of sunshine.”

  “It’s staggering. She’s a real charmer.” Nate’s mouth twitched at the corner, and it was clear he loved Lindy as much as I did. And obvious from her behavior that she was equally charmed by him.

  Ugh.

  “Lindy,” I started, “you’ll be glad to know I had a hot date this weekend. He’s sexy, he’s employed, and he irons his own shirts. I’ll give you the dirty details later.”

  “Ooooh. You better, sweetie. Come find me when you’re done with this one.” She bustled back in the direction of the counter where someone was calling for her.

  When I looked back, my neighbor was watching me intently.

  “Hot date?”

  “As much as I’d love to say, ‘No one you know,’ it’s someone you know. Josh.”

  “My Josh.”

  His tone irritated me. “There wasn’t a label on him, Nate. Did you skip that day in kindergarten when the teacher talked about sharing? Let me help. Sharing is when—”

  “Dammit, I know what sharing is.” Nate shifted in his seat. “I mean that we cross paths again after months, and barely a week later you’re everywhere.”

  “Well,” I said slowly, “you’re the one who moved me into your building. Starting to seem like a dumb idea, isn’t it, Suit?”

  “It was. But it doesn’t matter, because you still can’t date Josh.”

  I crossed my arms. “Excuse me? Why not?”

  He lifted a shoulder as if to say the answer was obvious. “He’s a first-year law associate bent on succeeding at any cost. You spend your days assaulting old men in coffee shops with pencils.”

  Why was he being weird about this? He’d said himself there wasn’t anything between us. So what would bother him about one of his friends going out with me?

  I was distracted by the watch on Nate’s wrist as he reached back to scratch his neck. A Rolex. It hadn’t jumped out when he was wearing the suit, but with the T-shirt and jeans it glinted like a diamond.

  Unless …

  No.

  But it made sense.

  Nate Townsend was New York royalty. Rich family, powerful, respected. When Nate and I’d met at the club, none of that had come up. We were equals. We both wanted something from each other. But now …

  I hadn’t pegged him as a snob, but it fit.

  The darling of the city didn’t think I was good enough for his Ivy League friends. Scrappy designers and high-paid lawyers didn’t mix. Unless it was dark and private. And had an expiry date of less than twenty-four hours.

  A metallic taste burned the back of my throat.

  “What?” Nate demanded.

  “Josh isn’t just a lawyer, you know. He’s a self-made man. Starting from a blue-collar family, going to Yale, making it in the big city on his own. He’s got talent, but most of all he’s got dedication. That’s what I like most about him.”

  I trailed off under Nate’s hardening gaze. “Unlike me,” he responded. “Because I’m some brainless dilettante who bought his way through law school.”

  I wanted to shout No, that I hadn’t meant that. But I was still reeling from his snobbery, so I bit my tongue.

  “You really think I live a charmed life? Even after what you saw last winter. What happened between us last winter,” he challenged, a muscle working in his jaw. Nate’s mouth was pressed into a line, his eyes stormy. The bright blue was long gone, replaced with deep oceans and darker places. It seemed impossible that just a few minutes ago I’d been imagining touching him, because the man in front of me now was untouchable.

  His words suddenly reminded me of another wild, untouchable version of Nate Townsend. The memory came flooding back like it’d happened yesterday, images and sounds and feelings flashing through my brain.

  “Forget it. Your silence speaks volumes,” Nate said before I could even form a response. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m sure I have a trust fund that needs spending.” He shot me a last unreadable look before standing and crossing to the door, leaving me stunned and his coffee on the table.

  10

  Ava

  Last December

  Nate and I tripped out of the club and into a cab. The driver shot us a look that said he knew what we were up to. Nate passed him a fifty and muttered an address. I texted the address to Lex, who’d given me her blessing before I left, as insurance.

  And then we were kissing. Nate’s mouth was hot, his hands everywhere and nowhere. I stifled a moan as he skimmed my thigh under my skirt.

  Fuck I wanted him now. Wanted to know if underneath the clothes, out of the crowd, he was worth everything I’d been feeling in that club.

  I heard the screech of brakes outside. A horn. It startled me, but the reaction it caused in Nate was worse.

  In an instant, his hands and mouth were gone. He bent over, bracing his head between his hands. His eyes were squeezed shut against the world, blocking out me, the cab, everything.

  What the…

  I was frozen for what felt like years. Realizing I was getting no better read on the situation, I finally jumped into action.

  “Hey!” I tried, but Nate didn’t answer. Just breathed shallower, faster, hunched like an animal in the seat across from me. My heart hammered in my chest. “Are you OK?” Fear edged into my voice.

  I glanced up at the cabbie, who caught my eye in the mirror. “No getting sick in my cab,” he said emphatically.

  “No, he won’t.” At least I didn’t think so.

  I was about to ask the cabbie to take us to a hospital when Nate finally responded.

  “What?” His eyes were glazed when they opened. Disoriented.

  I had zero experience with whatever this was, but being the second youngest of four kids, I’d seen my share of accidents and injuries.

  “Do you need a doctor?” He shook his head, the only response. “Take it easy,” I said as steadily as I could. “Breathe for me, OK?”

  After a terrifying and endless moment, he finally spoke. “I’ll be all right. I get this sometimes. Just not usually … Shit. Where can I drop you off?” His voice was tight and strained.

  There was no way I’d leave him when something was this wrong. What if he had another … whatever this was? Or the cabbie kicked him out and left him by the side of the street?

  “Not until I make sure you get home safe.” The need to help surged inside me, overtaking any fear. It was basic compassion—something tugged at me, seeing another human being in shock and in pain. Maybe I’d regret this, but if he was acting and this was a ploy to murder me, the guy deserved an Oscar.

  “Do you have keys?” I asked as we pulled up to the address Nate had given the driver. After a brief hesitation he fished them out of his pocket. We stumbled toward the door and I swiped the tag to let us in.

  “I’m fine,” he managed as we shuffled toward the elevator. “You’re not walking me up.”

  I ignored him, stepping in first and waiting for him to follow. “Floor?”

  Nate hit the button himself, shooting me a lo
ok like I was babying him.

  The fluorescent lights in the elevator cast a harsh glow over his face, and I could see beads of sweat on his forehead. The fear was fading, and whatever monster had taken hold had retreated.

  For now.

  I followed him out of the elevator and down the hall.

  “This is me,” he said abruptly when we stopped in front of a door.

  I waited for him to open it. He waited for me to leave.

  “You’re not going to invite me in?” I prompted.

  “No.” Nate looked at me like I was crazy. It would’ve been funny under different circumstances.

  “What am I going to do, overpower you? Beat you into submission?” I held up the satin clutch the size of my hand, then opened it, peering inside. “Or are you afraid I’m going to draw on you with my lipgloss?”

  Nate watched me warily for a long moment, then unlocked the door. He stepped inside ahead of me. Once more he looked the way he had when I’d first seen him across the sweaty, sparkly club.

  Tall.

  Built.

  Handsome.

  But his brand of contained calm had been disrupted and the quirky, charming vibe from the club was gone. Impressing me wasn’t on Nate’s radar.

  It didn’t matter because it was off mine too. We both knew we weren’t going to have the kind of night we’d envisioned.

  Which is too damned bad, because I need something to keep my mind off tomorrow. And I’d really, really hoped you were it, Suit.

  Inside, Nate kicked off his shoes, shrugged his jacket onto the floor, and went straight for the balcony. I stepped carefully out of my heels and laid my coat on top of his. There was a closet, but I wouldn’t be staying long enough to use it.

  The apartment was gorgeous. Open concept, hardwood floors, and windows along one side. “You must sell a shit ton of underwear,” I breathed.

  “Huh?” Nate grunted from outside.

  “I said, ‘Great apartment.’”

  What am I doing here? Oh yeah. I wanted to get him talking. Make sure he’d last the night on his own before I took off back to Lex. Despite his surly assurances that he was fine, I didn’t want him doing a repeat of his childhood Superman stunt off the balcony. Or hurting himself any other way. My gut said he was too self-centered to ruin all that pretty, but I’d hate to be wrong.