Page 82 of Triggered By Love
Fashion parties are all about impressing people and making the connections necessary to further a career. Everyone was on the market, continually, and attention spans were nonexistent, unless one captured a moment that went viral.
Saul took the passes and put his hands together in a prayerful gesture, bowing slightly. “There aren’t many rich people as kind as you to give me a chance. That cop friend of yours was nice too.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask.” Avery smiled at the consternation that had run on Saul’s face when he’d realized a policeman had offered to play nursemaid to him. “How did it go with Officer Burnett?”
“He made sure I was alert whenever he woke me, and he was genuinely concerned about my injury. I like him.”
“Good.” She nodded as he thanked her profusely and walked to the door.
He opened the door, and there was Jason with his fist raised about to knock. The two men sized each other up, with Saul averting his gaze first.
They exchanged pleasantries and Saul left.
Avery could feel the chill above and beyond the air conditioner. Jason wasn’t pleased to find another man in her apartment.
“Good evening,” he said, too cool as he walked by her.
Instead of asking about Ivanna or what Saul was doing at her place, he did his police thing of clearing the room.
He walked by each doorway and glanced inside, then checked the windows and lowered the blinds. The setting sun was already low and slanted across her drafting table. His hand closed in on her sketchbook, and she held her breath. How dare he touch her private things without asking? But if she objected, he would be even more interested.
Instead of opening the sketchbook, he asked, “Is this your design notebook? The one Damon thought Ivanna had taken?”
“Yes, but it was here all the time. Stop looking for crimes where none exist.”
“You’re saying no one came into your apartment while you were gone and Damon was mistaken?”
“He already said he was only trying to get me to come back from your place,” Avery said. “Ivanna has a perfectly good reason for using her key.”
“Maybe she saw the person who dropped the box of chocolates on the way out.” Jason lifted the cover of her sketchbook while watching her.
Unfortunately, her indrawn breath showed nervousness.
He smiled and let the cover drop, having gotten her reaction. Not that she had anything to hide.
“Maybe you’re looking for a mountain under a molehill,” she said. “What do you really want?”
“To protect you, Avery.” He advanced toward her, seemingly growing right before her eyes.
She tried to draw in a breath, but it was like he removed all the oxygen from her brain.
“Why do you want to protect me? Do you feel responsible because you happened to be at the fashion show last year?”
“I like you, Avery Cockburn.” He held out both hands, palms up, in an inviting manner. “Let’s go to dinner.”
Her body responded to the invitation, wanting, yearning for his protection, but her mind balked. Who exactly did he think he was? He said he liked her, but he liked his car, too—the one she’d caused him to total.
“I, uh, have to fix my face.” She made an excuse and forced herself to step away from him.
* * *
Avery wasthe most skittish woman Jason had ever tried to get close to. He couldn’t blame her. Her life had been rough—not only recently, but from whatever traumatic secret she was running away from.
He’d caught the reference her brother made to drugs. He had no doubt Richie Overton was involved—what with the overconfident attitude he’d displayed, as if he had a hold on her.
Since Avery was in her bathroom, Jason called Blade for an update.
“The male models we were investigating had worked for Avery before,” Blade answered. “I was able to track down the agency representing them. You’ll be interested to know Alida Adams is behind it.”
