43
Finn
Avery stares at me from across the table, her mouth hanging open, her eyes full of confusion and disbelief. I almost can’t believe it either.
I haven’t told anyone my full plan. Not even my assistant. Yet I just poured out all my secrets to a woman I hardly know. A woman who holds more power than she even realizes. Her movement has grown to epic proportions, and she could use this information against me.
Ruining everything. All my plans to bring New York into the future by making the MTA the most forward-thinking and revolutionary mass transit system in the world could blow up before they even get started.
Why did I do it? Why did I tell her everything and hand this power over to her on a silver platter?
Because I see something in her that I recognize in myself. Passion to do the right thing, to stand up for what you believe in and make things happen. And I believe that she will see my side of things in this situation.
At least I hope she does. I hope she doesn’t take everything I think I see in her and prove me completely wrong.
Avery shakes her head, the purple and platinum waves falling around her shoulder in a mesmerizing dance that makes me want to wrap myself up in her.
“You’re serious.”
I nod. “Dead serious.”
“Why haven’t you told anyone? Why have you let the media tear you apart over this—let me work so hard against you—when what you’re doing is so…good?”
I smile. She gets it. It makes me want to sweep her up in my arms and kiss her.
“It’s complicated.” I go on to explain all the crazy details, the bureaucratic bullshit that I have to deal with, the danger of letting someone who doesn’t need to oversee something of this magnitude in on the plans.
By the time I’m done, she’s looking at me with something that borders on awe. I have to admit, the feeling that gives me in my chest is unexpected. I like it. A lot.
“I didn’t expect this at all,” she says wryly. “I have to admit, when you said you wanted to take me to dinner, I thought you were just trying to manipulate me. Get me to give up my campaign against you.”
I nod, trying not to let her words sting too much. She couldn’t have known. And everyone thinks the worst of me. They see me as a ruthless, manipulative shark taking advantage of others. That’s the last thing I am. Which is why when she continues, her words make me feel like I could take on the world with her at my side offering her support.
“That’s not what it was at all.” Avery smiles. “I mean, you do want me to give it up. But you only wanted me to see the truth behind what you’re doing.”
“That’s not all of it, Avery,” I admit. “My motivations weren’t entirely pure.”
She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
My forehead wrinkles as I scratch the back of my neck, suddenly feeling a lot less sure of myself than usual. That’s a new one.
“I just wanted to spend time with you.” What the hell? Might as well just put it out there.
“Why?” She blinks quickly, swallowing hard.
“Because you’re sexy as hell, for one thing.” I grin when she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “And I also think you’re pretty fucking amazing. All the work you’ve done to fight me on this? Knowing you wouldn’t be getting anything in return? Just doing it because you care. That’s special. It’s passion. And I want a little more of a woman who feels so strongly about something that she goes to the lengths you do.”
It seems I’ve rendered her speechless, so I go for light, giving her an over-exaggerated leer. “And did I mention because you’re sexy as hell?”
She laughs. “I think you did.”
The air between us thickens, awareness winding around and through me. I know she feels it, too, because her chocolate eyes go even darker, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.
Yep. Time to get out of here.
As if we’re both thinking the same thing, we stand and move toward each other. “Your place or mine?” I say, grabbing her hand and lifting it to my mouth.
She laughs again and shakes her head. “You’re outrageous, you know that?”
“You may have mentioned it.”
“Completely full of yourself.”
I nod, grinning. “Basically.”
“Does anyone ever tell you no?”
“Not often,” I admit, then twirl a strand of her hair around my finger. “But you did. Up until about ten minutes ago. You going to tell me no again?”
I tell myself it’s okay if she does. If she isn’t feeling this pull toward me like I feel toward her.
But the intense relief that hits me takes me by surprise when she says, “Not tonight.”