The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)

But success is also exhausting, and that’s exactly where I am tonight. Exhausted. Why am I using so much energy on meeting men online when I should be focused on work?

I’m happy and independent. But damn it, I see Addie, Cami, and Kat with their men and I can’t help but be a tiny bit envious at the bliss they’ve found. The guys don’t pull them away from the business; they support it too, and help in any way they can.

It’s a team effort.

I want to be a part of a team.

And, I really do want to get laid on a regular basis. I mean, I’m a red-blooded woman, and I have needs.

And standards.

The drive to my house in Hillsboro doesn’t take long, and soon I’ve changed into blue yoga pants and a coral tank top, sitting in my favorite chair in the corner of my bedroom, my laptop in my lap.

I feel like I should send Trevor an e-mail and apologize for tonight. What he heard is the epitome of unprofessional, and that’s not the way I want our professional relationship to begin.

But I don’t need to dig the hole any deeper. Sometimes it’s best to just keep your big mouth shut. I have a master’s degree in marketing and publicity, and that would be my first piece of advice to any client in this situation.

Less is more. Stop talking.

I nod, deciding to take my own advice, and open the laptop. I work my way through four of the online dating sites that I’ve subscribed to. I have messages waiting in each of them, from men I’ve never seen before, and a few that I did go on a date with, and it was definitely not a match.

Including Sweaty Man.

Hi Riley,

I had a great time last night. Let’s do it again soon!

Greg





No thanks. I type out my typical “it’s not you, it’s me” response and hit send, and then I shock the shit out of myself as I methodically unsubscribe from each site, erasing my profiles.

This isn’t working.

Maybe Trevor was right. Just stop it. Meet someone organically.

Or just die an old maid. I’m sure there are worse ways to go. Like, I could have a fatal skin disease or something.

Dying alone doesn’t seem quite as bad in comparison.

I’m just about to close the computer and head to bed when there’s a notification that I have new e-mail.

I’m about to ignore it for tonight, but the name “Trevor Cooper” shows up in the sender’s name, and I can’t open it fast enough.

Riley,

I’m writing via my personal email, as this doesn’t pertain to our professional relationship. I wanted to apologize for this evening. I should have introduced myself when you first came into the bar. I wasn’t expecting the conversation that began upon your arrival. Please accept my apology. I look forward to seeing you in a few days.

Warmly,

Trevor

P.S. The Death Star is in Star Wars. It’s also been destroyed, so you can’t go there. Sorry.





I grin and read through the note twice more. Okay, this was a nice guy move. Trevor is obviously kind, and maybe a bit of a Star Wars geek.

But he’s temporary, and a colleague. So the attraction I feel for him doesn’t count.

At all.

It doesn’t matter that he’s cute and smart and has a great job.

Doesn’t matter at all.

And I just gave up on dating as a whole, so there’s that.





Chapter Two





Trevor


I didn’t sleep worth shit last night. I waited for a response to my e-mail from Riley for a while; I’m not exactly sure why. I just don’t like the thought of her being embarrassed.

Because she has no reason to be. She didn’t know who I was, and it was closing time. She was venting to her friends.

It’s really no big deal.

But I could see the mortification in her big blue eyes when she realized who I was, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

When no response came, and for all I know she hasn’t even read the e-mail yet, I sat down for a game on the PS4. I don’t travel anywhere without it. Some people read to unwind. Some go to the gym, and there are times I do the same. But to truly relax, I enjoy gaming. I have since I was a kid.

So I settled in the apartment the network has rented for me this month and played online with my friends, talking about our days and shooting the enemy.

We played well past midnight, and I usually would have gone right to bed afterward, but my mind was still turning, making falling asleep impossible. The restaurant is better than I imagined through my research on their website and customer reviews. It’s visually stunning, the food is fantastic, and they’ve hit the mark on the sexy factor.

But added to that, the five women who own the place are all beautiful, smart, and will make for great TV. Viewers will eat this show up, pun intended.

I lean over the sink and wash my face, not bothering to shave today, and as I dry off, I reach for my phone.

I have several new e-mails.

The most recent is from Riley Gibson.

Trevor,

Thank you for your kind email. I apologize again for the conversation last night. I would like to promise that we don’t always talk like that at work, but that would be a lie. At least we keep it to closing time over a glass of wine.

Enjoy Portland,

Riley





I grin and sling the towel over my bare shoulders. Riley isn’t what I had pictured in my head before I got here. I knew that she was pretty because their photos are on their website, but she’s much prettier in person.

And animated.

Working with her will be fun.

And a test to my libido. Because Riley is fucking sexy. I’ve never mixed business and sex before, and I don’t plan to start now, but keeping my hands off her will be a test of wills.

And that too should be fun.

After my run this morning, I stopped by a bagel place to eat and read a newspaper, came back to the apartment for a shower, and I think I’ll go to Seduction for lunch. I hadn’t planned to go back there until my meeting with Riley tomorrow, but I also haven’t had lunch there yet.

I dress quickly in jeans and a red T-shirt and walk the six or so blocks to the restaurant.

They’ve just opened, so they’re not busy yet. The atmosphere is calm, the lighting a bit brighter than last night, making it a fun spot to meet with colleagues or friends for lunch.

I’m seated on the far side of the restaurant, where it meets the bar, and I can see Riley and the other women sitting around a high table, talking.

Loud enough for me to hear.

“So, he’ll be here tomorrow. Filming doesn’t start for another week, unless the timetable has been moved up,” Riley says, studying her iPad and checking things off a list. “It would be great if we could watch our language.”

“Right,” Mia says, rolling her eyes. “Because that’s gonna happen.”

“Just watch the F-bombs then,” Riley says with a grin. “And I’ll do my best not to vent to him about my horrible dating experiences. Not that I’ll be having any more of those.”

“I wish I’d been here for that,” Addie says with a smile. “It’s hilarious.”

“No, it’s not,” Riley says, but smiles and covers her lips with her fingers. “Okay, it’s a little funny. I’ll be working from home today.”