Chapter Seven

Zoe paced in front of Connor’s apartment building. A cool breeze played with the long strands of hair that fell around her shoulders, which she’d been unable to corral into a ponytail, thanks to her bum arm. In retrospect, marching out of the gym in a righteous fury had been satisfying at the time, but it also meant she hadn’t had a chance to find out when they would be done with their game. Which meant that she’d had to wait out here for more than thirty minutes, still vibrating with fury over the scene in the gym, because Connor had hidden her phone the day before and left that morning without telling her where it was, and she was totally, completely, helpless without it.

Luckily, the air was clear and crisp, a gorgeous fall day now that she was a few hundred feet above the fog bank covering the Outer Sunset—including her apartment.

She hadn’t really been surprised to find Luke locking down a new client on the basketball court. It wasn’t as if her partners tried to exclude her from decision-making or tried to go behind her back when they wooed new clients. Luke and Rafe weren’t like that—they were the opposite, really, and she never doubted that they thought of her as any less a member of the team because she was a woman.

No, it was more subtle than that. The men talked sports and worked out together. They went on outdoor adventure trips where they did ridiculous things like hang gliding and rock climbing. Luke and Rafe met and landed clients like Hugh on the basketball court, or by inviting them to Warriors games, or watching the 49ers in a company box.

She was lucky they were all good friends, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware that she was the lone woman on a team full of men. She joked with them about her dates because they did the same, and she loved how comfortable they were together. But in the back of her mind, she always knew that comfort and respect didn’t mean there weren’t divisions between them.

Usually, she could shake it off. But today felt different, and not just because she was tired and sore and frustrated that she felt like she was always moving backward while everyone else was getting ahead.

Today, unlike most days, she actually had an idea. A way to finally move forward.

But first, she needed to convince Connor to help her.

“Zoe?” Connor waved, looking surprised, as he walked up the sidewalk. He must have showered at the gym before walking home, because his hair was still damp and he was wearing black joggers and a snug gray T-shirt.

As much as she tried to stop it, her insides quivered, just a little, at the sight of him.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“Hey.” She tried for a relaxed smile. “Any chance you know where my phone might be?”

He stopped and closed his eyes, then hit his forehead. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I never got it back out for you yesterday. It’s in the kitchen.”

“No worries,” she said lightly. “I was going to try to ask you about it at the gym, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it without drawing attention to the whole thing. Besides, I sort of lost my cool a little.”

He nodded. “Understandably. Where did you park?” When she pointed to her arm, he winced. “Oh right, sorry. No driving for you for a little while, I imagine.”

“I probably could do it, but to be honest, I’m not really desperate to get behind the wheel with my hand in a sling. It won’t kill me to ride share for a while.”

They rode the elevator back to his apartment. Connor headed into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything while you’re here? I feel terrible that you had to come all the way back into town.”

“That’s okay, but I did, er, have a question I wanted to ask you.” She cleared her throat, trying to maintain at least a veneer of normalcy.

He looked up from the drawer he was searching in to give her a quizzical look. “A question?”

“Yeah.” She stood by the counter, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, suddenly questioning her own judgment. This was a huge request. Could she really ask it of him? “Or maybe I should say, a favor.”

And if he said yes, what might happen next? What if she inadvertently started something in motion—something that she couldn’t control?

“A favor? Whatever you need, just let me know.”

She bit her lip. “You might want to hear the whole thing first.”

His brows knit together, and he gave her one of his long, searching looks. Zoe realized if she were going to spend more time with him, she would have to get used to those gray-blue eyes examining her, pulling out all her secrets with nothing more than silence. Finally, he turned away, pulled her phone from the drawer and extended it toward her, then turned toward the fridge. “In that case, would you mind if I made us something to eat? Maybe just some cheese and crackers? It is lunchtime.”

As her stomach rumbled, Zoe realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Plus, having something to focus on other than Connor’s eyes—or his chest—would be helpful. “You know what, cheese sounds wonderful. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met a moment cheese didn’t improve.”

That, at least, was entirely true.

“Sounds about right to me.” Connor grabbed a few things from the fridge, pulled out a knife, and started slicing the cheese. Zoe perched on the edge of a stool and watched as he added the cheese and a few handfuls of crackers, along with some olives and nuts, to a platter.

“So before we get to this mysterious favor, how about you tell me exactly what happened today?” Connor asked. “Is everything okay with you and Luke?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. We blow up at each other every now and then. Luke started the firm, and as much as we’ve structured it so we are all equal partners, he forgets sometimes that he isn’t the boss.”

Connor took the platter and headed for the living room. He sat on the couch and set the platter on the coffee table. Zoe sat next to him, remembering what it felt like last night when they’d been side by side in the dark. The memory was a little too intense, so she leaned forward took a handful of crackers and cheese and told herself to focus on that instead.

“And he leaves you out?”

“Deals get done over sports. Sometimes it’s a new client; sometimes it’s a new project with an existing one.” She lingered over a slice of sharp cheddar. “There’s not really time to run everything past me. It’s shitty, but it’s how things go. I just need to remind him to think about it before he starts trying to critique the clients I want to pursue.”

“Mason and Nate fight all the time.” He threw her a sideways smile. “I just sit back and watch the fun.”

“You’re not much of a fighter?” Zoe asked, thinking back on the many meetings she’d sat through with the Livend Capital trio. She could only remember one time, a few months ago, when Connor and Mason had disagreed about something. But then again, she had assumed they disagreed more in private, like she did with Luke.

“I don’t see the need,” he said. “I just tell them what I think, and most of the time, that’s what we do.”

Zoe shook her head. “Wish I could pull that off. How’d you manage such a feat?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged.

Zoe had an idea. Connor was brilliant, for one, and as far as she could tell, he didn’t open his mouth unless he was 100 percent sure of what he intended to say. Unlike her, he didn’t spout off about things just for the sake of arguing, either. As a result, when Connor talked, everyone listened.

“When Luke and Rafe and I first started out, we disagreed quite a bit. Basically, I had to prove that I knew what the hell I was talking about. Once they got to know me better, things got much easier. It helps that we all really like each other. They’re sort of like family now. Luke’s like a brother you fight with, but appreciate in the long run.”

“But you think Southcycle would be a good client, and he doesn’t,” Connor observed.

“Southcycle wouldn’t just be a good client, they could be the perfect client for me.” She felt her muscles tensing as she said it, her frustration with Luke’s attempt to manage her decision coming back in a rush. “And I hate the suggestion that I should back away from them because I’m a woman.”

“Why are they so perfect? The CEO sounds tough.”

“Lots of clients are hard to work with. That doesn’t mean you give up. I’ve got a background in electrical engineering and patent law, and my specialty is litigation. Based on rumors I’ve heard, Southcycle is likely to be facing some patent claims in exactly my areas of expertise. From what I can gather, that’s why they’re on the hunt for a new firm. It also helps that they’re not big enough yet that they need one of the big firms, but they are growing fast enough to want the best. All of which points to me. Most importantly, I need a big name client to help me secure my reputation. Southcycle would be that client.

“Makes sense.” Connor inclined his head in agreement. “But what about the CEO? If he’s got women issues, won’t that make things hard for you?”

“Probably.” Zoe shrugged. “That just means I’ll have to be that much better than everyone else. And when I’m successful, it will be an even better sort of advertisement for my work.” She grabbed a few more crackers and steeled herself for what she was about to ask. “Which sort of brings me to that favor.”

“I was wondering about that.”

She took a deep breath. “I need your help, Connor, to win over Aims. You heard what they were saying about him—he’s got a pretty limited range for socializing and getting to know people, and none of it is in my area of expertise.”

“And socializing with him matters?”

“He’s hiring someone to be a close advisor. He needs an attorney he can trust, but also someone he wants to have around. If he doesn’t see me as that kind of person, I’ll never get anywhere with him.”

Connor wrinkled his forehead. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Zoe.”

She swallowed. “I don’t quite know how to say this. He’s a guy’s guy. He likes to talk about sports and motorcycles and whiskey. The problem is, I know next to nothing about those things.” She gestured toward her sling. “Honestly, you’ve seen up close just how sporty I am. And I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles. I can learn about the technology—I’m not worried about that. But I need something more if I’m going to impress Aims. I need to know what might make someone sit on a waiting list for months to own one of these bikes. I need to be able to have a conversation about the Warriors and not sound like an idiot. Basically, I need to learn how to speak his language. And I’m hoping you might be willing to teach me.”

…

Connor blinked. He might have smiled, but she was so serious, leaning forward with an earnest crease in her brow, that he couldn’t. “Um, Zoe, you know that sounds a little crazy, right? Learn to speak his language? It sounds like he’s just a guy—and not an incredibly nice one, either. Why ask me? Why not Luke or Rafe?”

Her cheeks pinkened, and she took a deep breath. This was clearly not easy for her. “Look, you saw what happened at the gym today. The guys are looking for a reason for this not to work out for me. The last thing I want is to go back to them for help. It honestly hadn’t occurred to me to do anything like this until you said you were on their waiting list. But then I realized that you’d have insights into the brand I would never have considered.”

Connor rubbed his head, still bemused. “I get that, but you want me to teach you about sports? You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Zoe. You don’t need me to explain the rules of basketball to you.”

The compliment seemed to surprise her, and her color deepened. “That’s really nice of you to say, but I don’t just need to learn about the surface stuff. I need the deeper insight. The things you know when you’ve been following a team for years. Not to mention that you play all the time, right? And played in college? You’ve got exactly the kind of inside information I need if I’m going to impress Aims. And I need to know about whiskey, too. Aims loves whiskey, and you know way more about it than anyone should.”

“Well, that’s flattering,” he said drily.

She waved her good hand in a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I was not a whiskey aficionado in the past, but I swear I will become one. I know this sounds totally nuts, but I’m also wondering if you could coach me a little in basketball. Just enough so maybe I could join a league or something.”

His mouth dropped open. “You want to play basketball?”

“Why is that so crazy?”

“Because…” He gestured toward her in disbelief. “Zoe, seriously?”

Her jaw set into a familiar, stubborn expression. “After I get the cast off, obviously. Look, I realize I’m short and not particularly athletic. And maybe I don’t know anything about the game. But I’m sick of being excluded from Luke’s favorite place to make deals. Besides, don’t you coach a team already? Is it that hard to learn?”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “If you want to play in a league? Yes.”

“I need to start somewhere, right? This problem of mine isn’t going away, and I’m not going to lie down and take it anymore.”

“You want to be able to talk sports with the guys.” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t you ask me last month who the quarterback for the Warriors was?”

“I was kidding,” she sniffed. “I know basketball teams don’t have quarterbacks.”

“Are you sure?”

Her mouth tightened. “This has not been a priority for me. But I’m making it one. Starting today.”

He made a small sound of despair. “I’m not sure about this plan.”

Her expression turned pleading. “I know it’s a lot to ask. And I promise, I will do anything you want in return. Anything. I swear.”

It took about five seconds for the import of her words to wash over them both. She quickly glanced away, and Connor was struck dumb at the image of what he’d really like to ask in return, which was entirely inappropriate, as it involved Zoe and a whole lot of nudity. He cleared his throat and tried to speak.

Nothing came out.

Zoe fidgeted in the silence, just enough that their knees bumped, and the tip of her tongue peeked out as she wet her lips. For half a second, he imagined a flare of desire in her eyes. Of course, there was no way that she was having similar thoughts.

Right?

He tried again to speak, but in his haste all he could do was blurt out the first thing that came to his mind that didn’t involve Zoe removing her clothes. “Could you learn to play bridge?”

That caught them both by surprise. She drew back. “What?”

“Bridge,” he repeated. Now that the words were out, it somehow sounded both crazier and more logical than it had in his brain. “Didn’t you say once that you played a lot of cards?”

“I told you that?” she said, surprised. “When?”

“I don’t remember exactly. It was a while ago.” To be honest, he could describe the night in detail, from the high-heeled black boots she’d been wearing to the bottle of cabernet she’d been drinking. But given that she might think the way he remembered things about her was creepy, he decided not to share that precise piece of information. “You’d had a few glasses of wine, I think.”

“I must have been talking about poker,” she said. “I played a lot in college.”

“Just college? You haven’t played since then?” He narrowed his gaze. “I also seem to recall hearing something from Luke about you and Vegas.”

She glanced away. “Really?”

“Really.”

She waved a hand. “That was just a onetime thing. I’m not really a gambler, I just like to run experiments with numbers. It’s all about probabilities, you know.”

He had to suppress a smile at that. The GPGs would love her. Hard as it was to believe, she might actually be his ticket to infiltrating his mother’s home and her band of merry physicists.

The thought had occurred to him at the time, but he’d suppressed it as absurd. But she did meet all of their requirements. She was very smart and not affiliated with the club. She didn’t like being bossed around, but maybe if he could make her understand the need, she’d go along with it?

His mother didn’t trust him with her secrets, but she obviously trusted her fellow GPGs. And if she trusted them, wasn’t there a chance she’d trust a new team member? One who happened to be a woman?

“Poker’s your only game? Ever tried bridge at all?”

“I’ve tried it,” she said doubtfully. “It was my chess coach’s version of cross-training. Nothing too serious.”

“So you do play.” A feeling of relief and excitement washed over him. Suddenly, his crazy plan didn’t seem so crazy after all. “I can’t believe it.”

“I don’t play,” she corrected. “That’s like saying I play basketball because I was on a team in fifth grade. Real bridge players study the game for years. They run computer training simulations and spend hours memorizing scenarios. It’s an absurdly complicated game. You don’t just learn it once and then go out and play it. You need practice. Lots and lots of practice. Not to mention a partner who is willing to trust and bring you along.”

When she put it that way, it was a little harder to imagine his plan coming together. Still, he knew Zoe wasn’t your average card player. According to Luke, she had won more than five thousand dollars at poker in just a few hours, but she was so risk averse, she took her money and never went back to the tables.

“That just means you’d have a lot to learn. Zoe, you’re perfect for the game. You know numbers and probabilities, you’ve got a ridiculously good memory, and you’ve been counting cards for years.”

“Of course I could learn, but I wouldn’t be good,” she said.

“I don’t think I need good.” He thought about the last conversation he’d had with the GPGs as they contemplated their need for a substitute for their upcoming tournament. “Just absurdly smart and coachable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re flattering me. Really, Connor, why in the world do you want me to play bridge?”

“It’s a bit complicated.”

“But it could help you somehow?” She leaned forward again. “If that’s the case, just tell me what you need and I’m there. We could do a trade. I play bridge—”

“In return for me teaching you how to speak Aims’s language?”

“Exactly.” She gave him an earnest, pleading look. “I can’t tell you how important this is to me, Connor. If I could win over Aims, it would change my career. Being able to return the favor and do something for you would make me feel so much better about asking.”

And there it was. A deal was now on the table.

He could just agree to help her without taking her offer in return. He should do that. What she wanted from him was entirely aboveboard. What he wanted from her was manipulation, and perhaps even a tiny bit of dishonesty.

He paused for only a moment, then held out his hand. It wasn’t like they were bargaining for a soul. Zoe would never do anything immoral or dishonest.

Really, if anyone could find a way to ethically spy on his mother, it would be her.

“I think we’ve got a deal.”

She looked at his hand, then at him. After a half second of hesitation, she joined their palms. But instead of the brisk shake that he’d expected, for some reason neither of them pulled away. Instead, their hands remained joined, and he found himself lost in her eyes, their crystal depths even more complex than he had realized, spiked with flecks of dark blue and gray.

“Sounds like it,” she said huskily, still not pulling away. “When do you want to start?”

“You probably need to get home to rest.” He watched in fascination as her chest rose and fell in an increasing rhythm. “Maybe next week?”

“Can’t wait that long. You have plans tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night? You’re supposed to be resting, you know. Taking it easy.”

She gave her head a firm shake. “Tomorrow night. We can start with the whiskey and work our way up to motorcycles and sports.”

Their hands grew warm where they were joined, and when she finally pulled away, he regretted the loss—and wondered what the moment might mean. Had something between them changed? And if so, did he have the strength to stop it from progressing?

“Would it be terrible of me to ask you to keep this quiet?” She glanced down at her lap. “I can’t deal with Luke on this one. He’ll give me such a hard time.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. Selfishly, he had to admit she wasn’t the only one who might want to keep their arrangement a secret. The last thing he needed was for Mason or Nate to find out about it. “They might not understand. Or might jump to the wrong conclusion.”

It was like he was outside his body, watching himself try to act like this was no big deal. Like they could go out and drink whiskey and the only thing that might go wrong would be their friends misunderstanding.

What they should really do, of course, was exactly the opposite. Tell everybody everything. Invite the group along and keep it all aboveboard. Yet he could no more do that than he could have let her go home on her own the night before.

The entire situation was ripe for disaster, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

She rose at the same time he did, and they ended up far too close together in the small space between the sofa and the coffee table. She wobbled and reached out with her good hand to steady herself against his chest. He caught her wrist in his hand.

“Zoe…”

Tell her that this can’t happen. Tell her that your friendship is too important.

The words wouldn’t come. Instead, he found himself holding on. Her hand relaxed against his chest and she leaned just a fraction of an inch toward him.

And then something flared in her eyes. A moment of realization and recognition. A shared moment, emotions laid bare. There was something there. A spark. A feeling.

But before he could say any of the things he desperately wanted to say but knew he shouldn’t, she pulled away. In a matter of seconds, she was looping her purse around her neck and heading for the door.

“Don’t you want to hear exactly what I had in mind?” he asked. “About the bridge, I mean?”

“It involves playing cards, I assume?”

“Well, yes, but it’s more than that.”

“Tell me tomorrow,” she said. “Over a glass of whiskey.”

And then she was gone.