Page 37 of Rival to the Billionaire

My heart is beating hard, pulsing to the beats of a song only I can hear. A song that is suddenly calming my long-held fears and downplaying my doubts.

Doubts about my own instincts. Doubts about the app. Doubts about Ryder.

And doubts about whether or not I've been wasting time fighting a battle I've been destined to lose from the start.

ChapterEleven

RYDER

After Jenny finally agrees to my plan, the cocktail hour really starts to heat up. A loud DJ spins records from the 1980s, except with a techno twist, and the crowd boogies down to the music like they don't have a care in the world.

I head to the bar to get Jenny and I another glass of champagne. Glancing back from where I'm standing, I see her talking animatedly to a few of the conference attendees, and I can tell that she's having a good time.

It's probably just as well that she's having fun, because I know she was viewing this week as purely business.

Except there's nothing "business" about that backless red dress she's wearing tonight. And the flirtatious glances she keeps sending my way.

Or am I imagining things?

The light touches between us tonight. The glances. The soft smiles.

All of it seems so natural here in Vegas, so real, the cold ice of Seattle removed and replaced with the forgotten warmth and joy of two people who'd once been friends.

Hell, the fact that Jenny's even wearing that dangerous crimson dress that hugs her body like a second skin is a sign that the customary Jennifer Forde frost has slightly thawed.

But I know that something's still holding her back, still keeping her away.

The first step is convincing her of the value of the app—and of the process.

I'm going to find whatever it is that's holding her back—that's holding us back—and remove it.

Here. At this conference.

This week, everything's changing.

The thought powers me forward, and I start to make my way towards her when my cell phone suddenly starts ringing.

I'm tempted to ignore it, but I've been out of touch when it comes to business all day, so I have to answer. Setting the champagne glasses down, I pull the cell phone out of my pocket and glance at the screen.

But I don't recognize the number.

Damn.

"Hello?" I say, instantly slotting into my professional voice. "This is Anderson. I don't recognize this number, and I'm about two seconds from hanging up, so you'd better make it good."

"'Make it good'? Who talks like that? Oh wait…I do." I hear a chuckle on the other line.

I grin.

"Quen," I say to my fraternal twin brother Quentin. "Jesus, man. I thought you were in South Korea or the Philippines or something. Or wherever that last marketing campaign took you."

"No, that last campaign is wrapped. The team and I are headed to Japan next. I've decided to take a learning sabbatical."

I raise a brow. "Learning sabbatical? Meaning…you've met some woman from Japan and you're on your way over there to see her."

Quen laughs. "Come on. Why do you make it seem like I'm obsessed with foreign women?"

"Because you are. You're obsessed with all women. Remember when you thought Sarah Rhys was the most beautiful woman on earth, and you spent six months in Korea smitten with her? All the while she was engaged to another guy? And didn't tell you?"

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