Free The Harder You Fall by Gena Showalter Page A

lobster.”
    â€œThey do not.”
    Jessie Kay’s shoulders hunched with disappointment, and West had to fight another grin. She might not like him for his money, but she sure wasn’t afraid to spend it. Strangely enough, he liked her more for it. She didn’t give a shit about his opinion of her. A singular experience.
    The waitress reappeared, pouting at him. “Bad news. Because your sister demanded the last brownie pie, the only dessert we have left is the s’mores trifle. It’s really good though. That okay with you, gorgeous?”
    â€œSister?” Jessie Kay scowled. “Do I really look like his sister? I clearly come from grade-A stock while his ancestors made a few poor choices along the way.”
    Singular creature. “Yes,” he told the waitress. “I’ll take the s’mores trifle, but make sure you add extra marshmallows.”
    * * *
    T HE NEXT WEEK flew by, with only a few necessary adjustments to West’s schedule. Adjustments he made only because he’d found his next relationship. Monica Gentry, owner of Bodies by Monica.
    She’d shown up at WOH Industries on Wednesday, hoping to hire him to film her first workout video, not realizing he only created computer programs, video games and animated commercials. They’d had lunch instead.
    He’d found something familiar about her, but when he’d looked her up later that night, he’d realized he knew nothing about her. What he learned: A handful of her former employees hated her. They’d posted scathing reviews about her leadership style, calling her intense and neurotic. But who wasn’t neurotic?
    And really, she’d had to be fierce to build her gym franchise from the ground up. A feat he admired. He and Beck had had to claw their way over, under and through wall after wall of rejection; but all the while West had continued creating games and programs and Beck had continued making calls and pitches, going door-to-door until Dane Michaelson of MG&E paid millions for exclusive rights to his flow software, a program tracking oil and natural gas from the ground to its buyer. Not only had the deal put WOH Industries in the crosshairs of other business, but Dane had become a close friend, even introducing West to Strawberry Valley, his hometown, which had led West to introduce Jase to the town when the desire to move struck.
    West glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 7:59 a.m. Beck’s wedding was set to take place in three hours, one minute.
    He stood, made his bed, then showered for ten minutes, towel-dried for two, shaved for another ten and when he dressed, he ditched the usual Saturday-morning soccer gear in favor of a tux.
    He’d never thought this day would come and once upon a time he would have bet the bulk of his fortune Beck would remain forever single. Enter Harlow. The black-haired beauty had obsessed the guy from moment one, and in the end, he’d stepped up to be a better man for her.
    Would I have stepped up for Tessa if she’d survived the crash?
    The real question: Would he have gotten clean?
    During her depressions, nothing he’d said or done had helped her. Guilt and frustration had eaten at him and more often than not, he’d ended up doubling his hit. And his hangover. And his bad mood. His bad mood had only fed hers. A poisoned cycle.
    He glanced at the clock. 8:40 a.m. Right on time. Yesterday he’d called and asked Monica to accompany him to the wedding. She was an attractive woman in her late twenties, and she fit his usual criteria. Uncomplicated, eager, and he could take her or leave her. He didn’t crave her more than air to breathe and when they were apart, he didn’t wish they were together.
    He stalked into the kitchen where Beck stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a surprisingly steady hand, the features many had referred to as “half angelic, half demonic” utterly relaxed and—joyous?
    West