Desire (Venture Capitalist Book 3) Read online

  As we all turn to the priest standing at the front, the mass begins. I’m not Catholic, but I went to a few services over the years. It’s a beautiful ceremony. The cantor is one of Emerson’s sister-in-law’s, her voice like an angel as she sings throughout the mass.

  My mind drifts through the service. I think about my current boyfriend, and I think about Cameron. I want to get married one day, and I hope to have at least two kids, but at the rate I’m going, I may have to adopt. Today is beautiful, and perfect for Emerson and Dillon, but this isn’t for me. Too many people and, more importantly, too much pressure. No, thank you.

  Emerson hands her bouquet of red roses to CeCe. I’m anxious and excited. I take a peek at Cameron, and his lips curl. Again, he calms me. The priest begins, “May I have the rings.”

  The ring bearer presents the pillow to the priest with the rings attached. He looks at Dillon and Emerson. “I believe there’s a ring missing.”

  Dillon’s is still on the pillow tied by a ribbon, but Emerson’s 18-karat sapphire ring that is joined to the wedding band and was attached to the pillow is now missing.

  This brings the ceremony to a complete halt.

  Holy crap! What happened to the ring? Like everyone else, we’re are all scrambling looking for it.

  Emerson’s mother can be heard over the murmurs asking, “How did that happen?”

  “It appears to have come untied from the pillow,” her dad replies.

  Tina and her team are frantically searching around the back of the church. It’s bedlam and Tina, who prides herself on her organization, appears as if she may cry. CeCe and I are staring at the ground, pacing back and forth trying to find where the ring could’ve rolled off and found a new home. Guests are in the aisle, and everyone is hunting frantically. It’s a big ring so it shouldn’t be hard to miss. Dillon and Emerson are standing at the altar holding hands, looking as if they don’t know what to do.

  After what is only moments but seems like minutes, Emerson’s dad announces, “Here it is!” He holds it up for all to see, and there’s a collective sigh in the church. Handing it to the priest, he explains, “It was hidden between the carpet runner and the edge of the pew, just out of sight.”

  “Jack, you did a great job. Next time, maybe a little less drama,” Dillon says loud enough for everyone to hear

  Jack looks like he’s going to cry, and Emerson reaches down and gives him a hug. “Don’t worry, big guy. Everything’s okay. We found it.”

  The entire church laughs, and the rest of the ceremony goes without an issue. When Emerson and Dillon exchange their vows, CeCe removes a handkerchief from her bouquet stems and wipes her eyes, whispering, “I’m such a sucker for crying at weddings.”

  I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze.

  When the recession begins, Dillon walks Emerson out, followed by CeCe and Mason. I watch them and think what a perfect couple they’d make. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know Mason on occasion; he’s so self-assured and confident, which adds to his attractiveness.

  When Cameron and I walk down the aisle, my stomach begins to turn, and my palms are sweating. He squeezes my arm tight and says, “You’re doing great.” As I gaze at the audience, I don’t recognize many people as we slowly walk. Cameron must sense my nervousness and, just under his breath, he begins sharing with me who various people are who are sitting in the church. Many are clients of SHN. “To your right in the purple dress is Cindy Chou. She founded Fashion, the app. Sitting two rows up in that atrocious pinstripe suit is Brett Benedict. He’s the founder of TubeIt. The beautiful blonde in the light blue dress is sitting next to Tom Sutterland, founder of PeopleMover.”

  I curl my fingers tightly around the bouquet as if I’m going to pop the heads of the roses off. If I didn't like this guy, I'd be funny and flirtatious, but since I do, my mouth is full of sawdust and my brain’s malfunctioning as much as if I were drunk.

  The bridal party is ushered to a private room while Tina grabs both Emerson’s and Dillon’s families for pictures. Meanwhile, her team pushes people along to the gondola and up the mountain to the top of Breckenridge for the reception.

  Cameron

  CHAPTER TWO

  After about an hour of additional photos, we’re seated in several cars that caravan to the gondola, which we ride to the midpoint of Breckenridge Mountain and Ten-Mile Station. I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to ride with Hadlee. When I saw her in her bridesmaid dress before leaving the hotel, I thought for sure she was going to catch my raging hard-on. She looked so hot in her dress. When I touched her back, I’m sure we both sensed the same electrical current.

  Mason and I ride up the gondola, and we’re directed by the wedding planner to a private room for the bridal party while we wait for the bride and groom to arrive. Everyone is talking together. I sit next to Hadlee, and I can feel the heat emanating from her body.

  “We made it,” I tell her.

  She gives a brilliant white smile. “Thanks to you.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  She moves a few inches closer and quietly says, “I have a total fear of large crowds like that. I don’t think I would’ve been able to make it there and back to the altar without you.” She shivers.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Do you want to know my special power?”

  That seems like an odd question, but I’ll bite. “Okay. Sure.”

  “The air conditioning vent will find me in any room and blow directly on me. So, if you’re ever hot, come stand by me. And I’ll also always find the leg of the table when I sit with a large group.”

  That is hilarious. Laughing, I stand and remove my coat, placing it over her shoulders. “Maybe this will help.”

  “You’re very sweet. Thank you.” She stares at her fingers. I notice they’re long and delicate. I wonder what they’d look like wrapped around my dick.

  Before I can get too caught up in my daydream, she asks, “What’s your special power?”

  “Well, I’m not sure I have the ability to direct air conditioning in a room or magically move the table around so only I’m inconvenienced. Let’s think. I don’t suppose finding a mistake in thousands of lines of code is a special power?”

  With a singsong lilt to her voice, she says, “Nope. That’s work-related. You’re a master at your work, and everyone knows it. What’s something that no one really knows about you that you do well?”

  “Hmmm.” I think about it a few moments and finally figure it out. “I’m able to spot a woman in distress from across the room and save her.”

  She stares at me, eyes wide. “That is so true. You saw how nervous I was at the wedding and to calm me, you caught my eye as I walked in. And then on the way out, you relaxed me by pointing out who some of the guests were. That was, simply put, perfect.”

  Her surprise and adulation have my cock on alert. I was really only kidding—my special power is actually how to destroy relationships with women—but I’ll take it.

  She snuggles in closer and says, “Thank you for that.”

  I put my arm around her and rub my hand along her arm to produce some friction heat. She smells wonderful, and I’m about to ask her if she’ll hang with me during the reception when Tina announces, “Emerson and Dillon have arrived. Everyone ready to join the party?”

  We nod, and she isn’t happy with our response. “I want to hear that you’re ready.” Then this five-foot woman in four-inch heels yells at the top of her voice, “Are you ready to join the party?”

  With as much enthusiasm as I can muster, I join the rest of the wedding party and scream, “Yes!”

  Tina pairs us up to enter the grand ballroom the same way the girls entered the church, talking to each couple before they enter. When she gets to us, she says, “Okay, you two, the MC is going to play ‘Happy’ when you enter the room. Dillon and Emerson have provided a clever intro for him to say while you walk to the center. When you get to the dance floor, if you can d
ance a few moments and enjoy some time together, that would be ideal. You’ll have a minute. Don’t rush it, and show the guests you’re having a great time.”

  Hadlee stares at me, and I know she’s absolutely terrified. She’s just told me large crowds scare her, and now they want her to do this?

  I turn to her. “We’re going to do great. We’re going to hear them announce our names, and ‘Happy’ is an upbeat song, so you don’t have to worry about me stepping on your toes with these giant clodhoppers.”

  She looks at my feet, takes a deep breath, and says, “Okay. We can do this.”

  Greer and her groomsman entered to AC/DC’s “Back in Black.” He’s on his hands and knees in the middle of the dance floor, and she has a heel on his back and is pretending to whip him in a faux-BDSM ritual. The crowd is eating it up.

  I hear Hadlee mutter, “We’re going to look like idiots.”

  “No we’re not. Follow my lead.” “Happy” begins and the MC announces, “Please welcome Hadlee Ford. She’s one of San Francisco’s leading pediatricians during the day, and at night we can find her skipping along the waterfront. Cameron is a fellow founder of SHN, and when he isn’t advising some of you on your technology, he’s riding his Harley and dodging the law.”

  The crowd laughs, and I grab her hand. I took some dance lessons to impress a girl a long time ago, and while I’m not sure I remember, at least I’ll be the one looking like a fool if this doesn’t work. I spin Hadlee like a ballroom dancer, and she’s like putty in my arms. It’s like we’d practiced for hours. Of course, sixty seconds of spinning someone around a dance floor and a quick dip is easy to do without seeming too much like an idiot, thank God.

  Only Hadlee and I understand that the terror was real, but it looked planned.

  When we reach the rest of the bridal party, Hadlee has yet to release my hand. She leans in, pushing her soft breasts against my arm, and whispers, “You tricked me. You said you weren’t a dancer. You were incredible.”

  “I took one dance class with Madame Trudeau with a girl years ago, and it all came back to me.”

  “You were certainly impressive.”

  Mason and CeCe just entered the room to “Uptown Funk,” and they’re jamming. Wow, there’s definitely chemistry there. Everyone can tell they’re having a blast.

  I whisper in Hadlee’s ear, “That’s another couple who seems like they belong together. CeCe would be a really good match for him.”

  She squeezes my arm. “I agree.”

  We take our place at the head table, the room buzzing with excited chatter as some of the nieces and nephews run between the tables in a good-natured game of tag.

  “At Last” by Etta James begins, and the MC grabs the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Dillon Healy.” They arrive holding hands and smiling from ear to ear as applause spreads across the room. There’s the scraping of chairs as folks rise for a standing ovation, and the happy couple make their way to the head table. They sit in front of a bouquet of deep red roses and Dillon leans in for a kiss, cheers and whoops rising from the crowd.

  After a few moments, everyone sits and Mason rises from his chair, rapping his teaspoon on the side of his wineglass. He welcomes everyone and gives a wonderful toast to the couple. CeCe follows with her own toast, and then the waiters come out bearing trays laden with food. It really is a nice wedding, if you’re into weddings.

  Dinner is spectacular. I love good food, and I’m surprised when everyone in the room gets a plate with a filet mignon, a nice piece of salmon, a twice-baked potato and a heaping portion of sautéed broccoli.

  As the dinner ends and the party begins, I watch Hadlee walk over to a gentleman who kisses her on her cheek. A pang of disappointment runs through me.

  Turning to Mason, I ask, “Hey. I’m going to grab a drink. Need one?”

  “Sure. I should get one for Annabel.”

  I stop in my tracks. Mason brought a date? My mind doesn’t comprehend that. He’s never mentioned seeing anyone before. Then it dawns on me. “Annabel? From legal?”

  “Yeah, she’s my date this weekend.” He shrugs as if I’m the last one to know he’s been banging the legal assistant.

  I don’t know if I’m simply upset that I seem to be the only person without a date this weekend, but I understand sexual harassment is serious business. “Dude. You’re the rule enforcer. Why did you hook up with her?”

  As if it’s clear to everyone, he says, “She’s cute.”

  “Yeah, but she works for you,” I state the obvious.

  “I know. She’s hunting for a new job.”

  I’m still stunned by the news. This is a destination wedding. We live in San Francisco, and we’re here in the mountains of Colorado. This was not a quick “Hey, you want to come with me to this wedding tomorrow?”

  “Does Sara know?”

  “Well, she knows now.” He walks off and finds Annabel. She’s pretty, but she’s not for Mason. He needs someone who’ll complement him and is as powerful and successful as he is.

  This is a mess.

  I believe it’s gonna be a problem, but I’m not going to address the sexual harassment case that could be heading our way. We’re here to celebrate Emerson’s and Dillon’s marriage, not deal with possible work issues.

  I stand in line for drinks and remember standing at the front of the church and watching the bridesmaids march up the aisle. My heart stopped when I saw her. Hadlee was a pure vision—she has beautiful long auburn hair that I can imagine holding onto during sex. Her eyes are a perfect cerulean blue from the crayon box. She has the longest pair of legs, which in her dress seem to go on forever. And those round hips, heart-shaped ass with the perfect amount of jiggle, and mind-blowing tits that are obviously 100 percent real are enough to do me in right now. I’ve often wondered what her nipples look like and what it would be like to play with them. She takes my breath away.

  She’s everything I like physically in a woman, yet our social lives leave her off-limits. Every time I’ve ever seen Hadlee, I’ve reminded myself that she’s friends with many of the people I work with. Getting involved with her could prove difficult should things go south, and with my screwed-up history, everything goes bad.

  Our group of friends has mixed because of Dillon and Emerson. She joined our company almost three years ago, and with her came three stunning women and an introduction to the Arnault family. The first time I met Hadlee, I was surprised to learn she’s one of the leading pediatricians in San Francisco and the great-granddaughter of one of the world’s largest hotel chain founders. I’m pretty tech savvy and was able to do a little reconnaissance on the girls, and they each impressed me with their accomplishments. Hadlee specifically because she doesn’t come across as a know-it-all doctor or even a trust-fund baby; she’s warm and engaging and always quick to grin. She also allows CeCe to be the center of attention without competing with her.

  Her intoxicating beauty and beaming personality are so alluring, I found myself unexpectedly staring at her a few times during the ceremony. Each time she caught me staring, she blushed a beautiful shade of pink.

  I really need to get my mind off sex. It’s been a few months since I’ve been with anyone, and I think about it nonstop when I look at her.

  The wedding was nice. I’m not a religious guy, so the full Catholic mass was a bit challenging to follow. It’s like aerobics—stand up, sit down, hold hands, kneel and repeat. Okay, maybe I’m overly generalizing. I gave up on religion when my mother was killed when I was a teenager. I don’t have anything against it, I’m just not happy with God. Hadlee arrived last night with some guy, though I don’t know who he’s trying to fool. He was more interested in the male bartender than he was her. His loss. Hadlee was beautiful, and he hardly paid her any attention. Why is she with that guy?

  Following dinner, the music starts, and Dillon has the world-famous band Monkey Business performing. I thought they seemed familiar when I saw them sitting in
the audience. The head of the band asks Dillon and Emerson to come to the dance floor, and I’m expecting their song “Happily Ever After,” so I’m surprised when they cover “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You” by Elvis Presley instead. Even for a guy, I’m a bit moved by the romanticism of the day.

  When it’s time for the wedding party to dance, my palms are sweaty, and I’m sure Hadlee can hear how fast my heart is racing. All because of her. When she steps into me, she’s so close I can smell her perfume, and I want so much to discover where she dabs it. She’s soft in all the right places. I keep thinking about my third-grade teacher so I don’t get a raging hard-on. But when the lead MC cracks a joke, and she seductively laughs in my ear, I know she must realize it isn’t something in my pocket.

  When the song ends, I don’t want to let her go. She glances up at me through her eyelashes and says, “I guess I should join my date.”

  “Oh yeah. Thanks for the dance.” Why did I say that? Good grief. I should’ve manned up and told her to get rid of the gay guy, that I’d show her a good time. But I don’t. Instead I find a drink and wander out to the balcony. The views from here of the Colorado Rockies and the valley below are outstanding. The air is crisp with the smell of winter approaching. I bet this place is stunning covered in snow.

  God, I hate this.

  Hadlee

  CHAPTER THREE

  My boyfriend Derek likes the bartender. We met each other on matchme.com a few months ago, and he was very open about having recently left a long-term relationship with another man but told me he wanted to get married and have children. I love children—I am pediatrician, for God’s sake. We get along really well, but his hitting on the bartender all night has me convinced that he’s really only looking for a beard for a wife, and I want something more. We’ve never even had sex, and I was hoping this would be the weekend.