Chapter Two

An early morning run usually cleared Vin’s head before his monthly nine a.m. board meeting. Some people listened to music. He preferred to run without distractions. But even after five miles, a certain brunette clouded his thoughts. When he’d suggested the nightcap, he could almost see her regret when she said no. Could she be interested in him now that he’d made something of himself?

Bitter memories jackknifed to the surface. Maybe she’d only been five years old, but his humiliation at her disgust over his dirty fingernails still hurt like hell.

That was the year he’d earned The Rowe Foundation scholarship for the private middle school, and his father had insisted on inviting the Rowe boys to his birthday party. He hadn’t expected them to show, but they had. Landon, Christopher, and Reece, even though her name hadn’t been on the invitation. She’d tagged along with her older brothers, and she’d given him the greatest gift—a remote-controlled monster truck. Most of the other families had given him practical things like socks and school supplies, probably because he was so poor, but she’d given him a completely frivolous and fascinating toy, and his first exposure to technology.

After he’d reread the card, he’d searched for her among the twenty or so other kids, and she’d jumped up and squealed, clapping her hands. “Do you like it? I chose it all by myself.”

Like it? He’d loved it. Couldn’t believe this pretty little girl in her frilly dress would pick out such an awesome present. To this day, that gift had to be the best one he’d ever received. Too bad it was marred with the horrible memory of her humiliating him. When he’d reached out to thank her with a hug, she’d noticed his hands and cringed, visibly wrinkled her nose at him and stepped back, her eyes widening in terror. As if she was afraid of dirt.

He’d dropped his hands and run into his house, embarrassed and confused and angry at the rejection from a five-year-old girl.

His mother had been right—the haves and the have-nots might orbit around each other, but they lived in two separate worlds, and he shouldn’t try to cross that line.

Oh, yes, Reece Rowe had cringed back then, and that thought brought a wicked sense of satisfaction to his ego. Fast forward to Friday night when she’d initiated the hug.

And brief as the embrace had been, he’d wanted another one. He sucked in more air and increased his pace, letting the realization smack him in the aftermath. He’d spent two decades building a secure financial portfolio, all because of a five-year-old girl’s disdain. He owed his love of technology to her and the remote-controlled monster truck he’d taught himself how to rebuild after it had broken.

He couldn’t afford to make any uncalculated moves. Especially given all he’d sacrificed to make it to this moment.

Most days, he couldn’t believe his company had reached the level where investment bankers sought him for strategic technical options. And now—finally—he was ready to take his company public. With the IPO date to be set, he had no room for error. Zero time for distractions. Yet he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to that night. The satisfaction in her expression at seeing the end result of her hard work. For the first time, he glimpsed the girl behind all the glitter, and she’d impressed him. Instead of his cool, unattainable neighbor, she’d seemed real.

She’d looked approachable, and he’d thought if he could talk to her, he might—what? Tell her how she’d hurt his feelings when he was eleven? Thank her for teaching him to compartmentalize emotion from logic? Admit that because of her spoiled ass, he’d cleaned up real nice?

“Vin!”

He glanced over his shoulder and spotted a blonde waving and jogging toward him. “Tami, how are you?”

“Much better now. I didn’t know you jogged this route.” She tightened her ponytail and smiled up at him.

“Sometimes.” He made a mental note to switch his routine for tomorrow, though he’d never before run into her so early on a Monday.

She pulled off her sunglasses. “I love running on Washington Avenue.”

In her sports top and spandex shorts, he didn’t think she ran for the health benefits. Like most women in his radius, Tami dressed to draw attention to her assets, and as a healthy male, he would not disappoint her.

With his practiced charm, he said, “And I’m sure Washington Avenue loves to watch you run.”

She blinked up at him with stunning blue eyes. “I wish you loved to look at me.”

He sighed. She knew she was hot. She also knew he didn’t do commitment, and still she’d tried. She’d caught him on a first-class flight to Austria a little over two years ago, and though he’d never been a fan of the mile-high club, he wasn’t a stranger to it. But once they’d landed, they’d parted ways, and it wasn’t until she started showing up at the same events as him that he caught on to her motives.

He kept the practiced smile in place when he said, “Tami, you know what we were.”

Her lips pursed into a playful pout. “I also know what we could be.”

He scanned the area and wondered how to extract himself from this situation without breaking into douche mode. “You know I consider us friends.”

She leaned into him, wrapping her hand around his bicep. “You’re breaking my heart, Vinnie.”

He hated that nickname. He wasn’t Italian, and the way she sing-songed his name grated on his nerves. That was all he needed to drop any self-imposed politeness. He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sure there are hundreds of men eager to unbreak it for you.”

“Dad said you’re gaining momentum on your IPO.”

Ah. Business. He always did admire a woman who could see straight to his heart. If she’d been hoping to prolong the conversation, it worked. “I am.” Then, with a more genuine grin, he said, “You tell your father that I hope he’ll be one of many to buy when FH goes public.”

A flirty little sigh escaped from between her glossy lips. “I just wish Dad had the resources to get in on the ground floor with you.”

Her father had money; nobody argued that. His self-made wealth came from Mexican fast food franchises, but the man wasn’t looking to expand into the technologies industry. His focus had always been on agriculture. Maybe he hadn’t shared that with his daughter. “It was nice seeing you.”

She stroked one hand down his bicep and shot him a sad smile. “Always nice to see you, too.” With a little wave of her manicured fingers, she took off in the opposite direction.

He rotated and set a brisk pace toward the beach path, wondering what his hot neighbor was up to this hot morning. His brain kept circling back to Reece, and he couldn’t seem to shake her from his thoughts.

Not since the fundraiser. Not after he’d seen her enter the room, not since he’d witnessed her stellar event planning capabilities, and definitely not after he’d seen her excuse herself from the group, her dark hair framing a polite smile that dropped as soon as she thought no one could see her. She’d increased her steps, even in those high heels, and the way the dress parted all the way up her thigh had caught his attention.

But when she’d slowed her steps, seeming defeated in the way her posture switched from purposeful to resigned, he’d acted on impulse. He knew that feeling. Almost as if by leaving she was fleeing some obligation. He’d experienced that dichotomy too often over the years—what he should do versus what he wanted to do. And then her mask had flickered open briefly, and he’d caught a hint of her vulnerability.

Rounding the final curve of the road, he redirected his thoughts to his vulnerabilities and what awaited him in the office. He had a board meeting in two hours, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared. Running might not have cleared Reece from his mind, but work worked every damn time to rid his brain from unnecessary distractions. And if images of Reece’s bare toes entered his mind while he showered and dressed, well, that was his fault for walking her home after the fundraiser. But no doubt she’d caught his attention, and this wasn’t the time to lose focus.

Too many people expected him to fail. No way would he prove them right.

Less than three hours later, Vin found himself wishing for a distraction. What he really wanted was to hit something. Instead, he took a long sip of cool water and wished society found it acceptable to drink something stronger at ten in the morning on a Monday. Okay, so his board meeting hadn’t gone exactly as planned. IPOs could be complicated. The timing depended on a multitude of variables. Uncontrollable variables, like one of his largest investors.

“It’s just a minor setback.” This came from Fred, a man Vin counted on for sound advice. His chairman had been through the rough patches every step of the way, but this was more than a minor setback.

Vin fisted his hand. “When an interested investor pulls their financial backing without a sound explanation, I consider that more than a minor setback. This has the potential to be a disaster.”

Fred shut his padfolio and clasped his hands. “Look, you knew MediApp’s CEO wasn’t exactly your biggest fan, so her pulling out early shouldn’t surprise you.”

He’d counted on MediApp to help nudge his way into hospitals to launch his new software streamlining prescription tracking. But the CEO had reservations about “getting in bed with him.”

Fred had sharp instincts and a stellar reputation, which meant…

“Fred, are you telling me there’s a way for us to get back MediApp’s support?”

Simon Dimistar, another member of his board, leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach. “He’s saying that stunt you pulled on Friday derailed her confidence in you. Show her she can trust you, and she’ll be back on board.”

Stunt? Chairing the fundraising event? Why would that derail a potential investor? Shouldn’t that make her more confident in his commitment to the company and the community? They’d shared one lunch, and at the fundraiser they’d danced once, but he hadn’t gotten any signals she had concerns about the prescription tracking.

Simon’s grin was more like a sneer. “Who was she? Another model? Or was this one an actress?”

His gut twisted. Someone had seen him leave with Reece? How? It wasn’t like they’d left out the front door together.

Fred frowned. “Doesn’t matter who she was. What matters is that people question your ability to put business before pleasure, which didn’t happen Friday night.”

Really? The men around his boardroom table nodded, but they’d never expressed concern over his personal life before. Like the time he’d missed a Monday meeting because he’d needed one more day skiing at Lake Placid. Or when he’d been a no-show for a cybersecurity leadership conference, because he’d been delayed by a very persuasive mountaineer at Rainier Base Camp.

Vin measured his words carefully as he said, “You’re telling me MediApp’s CEO pulled her support because of my reputation?”

It made no sense. No financial sense, anyway. Never mind that he’d worked his ass off to build something from nothing. His business reputation was flawless.

Fred shot him a what can you do look. “You need to show MediApp that FH and you are respectable. One and the same. You are the company.”

What his board didn’t understand was that he didn’t need to show anyone anything. Fred was right. This was his company. His IPO. His dream. And he wouldn’t allow some snobby CEO to cower him into complacency in order to gain her support.

He glared at his board. “I stepped out to have quick word with the event chairperson. I apologize to you if my actions were misconstrued, but I’m not interested in getting MediApp back onboard. We’ll find another investor.”

Fred’s shock was evident. “Reece Rowe? That’s who you left with?”

He squeezed his eyes shut for the briefest moment, recalling her rejection to his offered nightcap. “For the record, nothing happened.”

Simon gave a low whistle. “Rowe could certainly help.”

Rowe International was an international conglomerate. On the business scale, he didn’t even make the corporation’s radar. Vin wasn’t above asking for a favor, but— “I doubt even if Reece got me a meeting with her brother, he’d pay much attention to us.”

The grin Simon shot him was nothing less than calculated. “I was going to say get your reputation on track. She’s single, and dating her would make you look good.”

Fred closed his padfolio. “Reece is definitely the real deal. Wouldn’t hurt to be seen with her.”

Vin gritted his teeth. “I told you, I’m not interested in getting MediApp back.”

Fred removed his glasses and slid them into his front pocket. “No, but it might help us land other investors.”

The other seven men grunted their agreement, and after fifteen more minutes of business as usual, the room emptied.

Vin narrowed his eyes at the shutting door. To his boardroom. In his building.

He wanted to take his company public.

And if he had to choose business over pleasure, it would be business every time. So sure, he could lose the models for now.

But date Reece?

He considered himself a pretty confident guy when it came to business, and he’d had his share of women eager to hook up with him, but where Reece was concerned, he drew a blank. He knew nothing about the woman beyond what he’d heard in passing, which wasn’t much. She was everything he avoided in his female companions. Cool and classy with a side of snob. Dinner with her would be all maître d’ and sommelier when he preferred pizza and a beer.

He toyed with the #justlivelife band around his wrist. The one he’d worn ever since he’d come to understand his father’s dying words.

Vincent, you have one life, and when it’s over, it’s over.

He got that part. One life. Yeah. When he’d been a child, watching his dad strum his guitar with the case open on the sidewalk was the greatest thing in the world. His dad was a singer. A performer. And one day, his dad would be famous. So it didn’t matter they hadn’t had steady money or that his mother had worked in the pizza place down the street. Free pizza was the coolest thing in the whole world to a ten-year-old kid.

But then he’d entered middle school, and everything had changed.

His mom had given birth to his baby sister, so his dad had taken a job as a janitor at a private school. The Rowes had entered his life, showing Vin just how poor he was but offering him a scholarship to pursue academic success. For a while, Vin thought money equaled happiness, and yeah, it might have felt great to sell his first app for ten grand at sixteen and give the money to his parents, but they never seemed to care about money. They just kept asking him if he was happy.

It wasn’t until his father’s final words to him that Vincent understood the meaning of his time on Earth.

Forget everything but living, Vincent. Just live life.

That had become his mantra as he’d pursued his passion—technology—and after he’d shared that story in an interview, his marketing staff had made wristbands that had #justlivelife printed on them.

If anyone needed a crash course in living life, it was his all-around do-gooder neighbor. Reece Rowe.

…

We’re going out for drinks.

Reece pulled into her assigned parking space in her condo’s parking garage and read the text from Amelie. Her visit with the children at the hospital hit her harder this evening, so drinks sounded perfect. She was mid-reply when another text came through.

Don’t freak. I’m walking toward your car.

Amelie marched toward her, still wearing the formfitting dark gray sheath she’d had on when she’d left that morning. Clicking the unlock button, Reece dropped her phone in the cup holder and said, “I need to change.”

Amelie shook her head. “No time. I just got out of a very weird meeting, and I need drinks and more drinks to soothe my ruffled feathers.”

“Ruffled feathers?” She laughed as she put the car in reverse and backed out. She glanced down at her jeans and tank top that didn’t exactly fit their typical bar.

Amelie lowered the visor and used the mirror to reapply her pink passion lipstick. “Apparently, my feathers are ruffled.”

Reece blinked in surprise. “According to whom?”

Amelie puffed out a breath and ran her fingers through her dark blonde hair, fluffing the strands. “Your brother.”

“Which one?”

“Landon.” Amelie all but sneered the name.

Landon Rowe, Reece’s oldest brother and CEO of Rowe International Corporation, had been grumpy for a solid week now, so he’d probably said something to upset Amelie, to ruffle her feathers.

“I’m sorry. He can be an ass.”

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have agreed to a six p.m. on a Monday. That man has the most atrocious work hours.”

Though it was no secret Landon worked twenty-four seven, Reece still couldn’t imagine why he’d want to meet—

“Is he hitting you up for another donation?” Her brother often sweet-talked Amelie into opening her checkbook whenever his PR people roped him into doing something public to improve his image. What was it this time?

Amelie sighed. “I wish it were that simple. But please, get me to a bar before I recap everything.”

“Fine. So you don’t care where we go? I’m thinking Lacey’s.”

Lacey’s Concert Café had a casual bar atmosphere, and on the couple occasions they’d gone in the past, there’d been live country music. Country. Not rock, like her neighbor.

When had Vincent entered her brain? She didn’t care about his taste in music, awful or otherwise, so there was no reason Lacey’s should remind her of him. Except last night, he’d been strumming a tune on his guitar that sounded a little less rock and roll and a lot more country. Usually when he broke out his guitar, it was for a female or a group of friends, and though the tunes he played weren’t bad sounding, they weren’t country.

But really, she had more important things to think about, like why her brother wanted to meet with her best friend—

Vin Ferguson

Vin? The shortened version sounded sexy, and she looked again at his name written in neat, block chalk letters on the sandwich board in front of the entrance.

She drove around back and chose a space under the light. “Did you see that sign? It said Vin Ferguson. Do you think that’s our neighbor?”

Amelie opened the door and threw her legs out of the sedan, swiveling sideways and pushing herself upright. In the tight sheath, she looked stunning, but Reece didn’t know how her friend breathed in that outfit, let alone how she’d consume any liquids. “Probably. We’ve heard him play for his women.” Amelie reached back into the car for her purse. “And we both know he sounds sexy as hell.”

With a little smile, Reece said, “You’re not wrong.”

As they walked toward the entrance, Amelie nudged Reece. “Do I detect a hint of interest? You never did say what happened when he walked you home from the fundraiser on Friday.”

“Nothing happened.” Which bothered her more than she wanted to admit, considering she’d been the one to say no to the nightcap. Since when did she want something with Vincent Ferguson? The man made his preference for young models well known, and she didn’t expect one fundraiser to change that.

“But you’re interested?” Amelie asked, her tone more serious than teasing.

She wasn’t. At least she didn’t want to be. It was just that…well…he’d walked her home, and it had been sweet. And he’d smelled so delicious. “He’s not my type.” And she certainly wasn’t his.

Amelie pursed her lips. “True. You tend to date the boring ones.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but we can’t all be you, running off on risky adventures.” Even if she wanted to. Amelie didn’t understand—her friend didn’t have to worry about what her parents thought.

“Why not?” With a short gasp, Amelie pointed a manicured nail at Reece. “You know what your problem is?”

She hadn’t known she had a problem, but Amelie’s weird mood must have something to do with Landon, so she hooked her arm through her friend’s and said, “Tell me.”

“You look at every guy as a potential boyfriend, and when they don’t live up to your expectations, you break up with them.”

She furrowed her brow. “That’s not a problem. That’s economizing my time. Why stay with someone when it isn’t going anywhere?” Or when they were using her to get close to Landon? Or when they told her she was lucky to be adopted by the Rowes because most abandoned babies didn’t end up with trust funds?

Amelie narrowed her eyes. “Your whole family does it. Assesses every date as if it’s the last one. Why? We’re young. We have time. No need to rush forward. Jump into anything headfirst. We have careers to build. Right? I want a career. That’s what people do after college. They get careers.”

What? This sounded like it had nothing to do with her. Had Landon brought up Amelie’s lack of career? Her brother was an ass.

“So what if he’s”—Amelie did the air quotes—“not your type. You should date for fun, not for forever.”

Okay, back to the dating. “Why would I waste my time with insincere connections?” She’d been raised by a mother who insisted every connection should progress toward something. No relationship—business or personal—should be without meaning.

Amelie rolled her eyes. “Fun, Reece. You need to date for fun.”