In The Market For Love. Joy Avery

Strictly business.” Though it was truly less about business than it was about his own need. Possibly a selfish one. He didn’t have to glance in Roth’s direction to know he was flashing a disapproving look. “Go ’head and say it.” And as expected, Roth didn’t hesitate.

      “Forget about business when it comes to happiness.”

      “Shit. Happiness is business, because business equals money. And money makes everybody happy.”

      Both men turned to see Garth Garrison entering the office. Garth was the builder Alonso typically contracted. They’d started out in the industry roughly around the same time and had tossed each other plenty of business along the way. He stood well over six feet with a commanding presence that always seemed to work in his favor when it came to getting dealings handled.

      Garth eyed the 3-D model. “And this piece of business is going to make us a shitload of cold, hard cash.”

      “Garrison,” Alonso said, addressing the man by his last name. He stuck out his hand as the man approached. “You better not have been out there flirting with my assistant again.”

      Garth laughed. “Can I help it if she wants me?”

      “To what do I owe this honor?” Alonso asked.

      Before Garth answered, Roth clapped Alonso on the shoulder. “I’m going to head out, man. I just stopped by to say what’s up. I’ll catch up with you later.”

      Alonso wasn’t sure what the deal was with Roth and Garth, but whenever Garth came around, Roth always made himself scarce. “Okay, man. Are we still on for B-ball this weekend?”

      “Absolutely. Gentlemen.”

      As Roth moved past, Garth chuckled in what Alonso took as a condescending manner. Obviously the man had no idea Roth was one hornet’s nest you didn’t want to poke. When Roth stung, he stung hard.

      Refocusing on the table model, Garth said, “This shit is going to be spectacular. So when are we breaking ground?”

      Alonso blew out a heavy sigh, the name Vivian Moore flashing in his head. “Still trying to tie up a few loose ends.”

      A hint of concern spread across Garth’s face. “Is there a problem?”

      “Nothing I can’t handle.” Alonso hoped Garth would drop the subject there, but of course it couldn’t have been that simple.

      “Is it with the last house you need to acquire? What happened to the letter you were going to send? That would definitely get the ball rolling for sure.”

      Alonso thought about the letter he’d written with the intent of sending it to the building code division. He retrieved the scathing correspondence from his drawer and studied his signature. A second later, he stuck it back inside. “I’ll give her a chance to come to her senses before I force her hand. That’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” Plus, after spending time with Vivian, he wasn’t sure this was the route he wanted to take any longer.

      Garth barked a laugh. “Alonso Wright a gentleman?” He laughed again.

      Alonso wasn’t offended by the ridicule. Very few people truly knew him.

      “Well, I know people. Say the word and I’ll make sure it’s declared uninhabitable. Then she’ll have to sell. That bit—”

      “Whoa,” Alonso said, flashing his palms, a hint of unexplainable anger swelling inside of him at the idea of Garth calling Vivian that word. Finding his calm, he said, “I got it handled.”

      “I hope so. This...woman is standing in the way of my money.” Garth checked his watch. “I got a meeting to get to.” He turned and started away. Stopping, he faced Alonso again. “You let me know if you need me to handle it. They don’t call me the Problem Solver for nothing.”

      A smug Garth ambled away.

      Alonso’s grandfather used to say an overly confident man was dangerous and a man controlled by money was deadly. Lately, Garth had become both, which made him a liability Alonso didn’t need. He already had enough problems. Namely, Vivian Moore. The seductive siren had whipped some kind of spell on him.

      * * *

      “Jesus Christ! This man just doesn’t give up.”

      Vivian deleted the fifth voice mail message she’d received from Alonso Wright since their meeting two weeks ago. Hadn’t he picked up on the fact she’d been avoiding his calls? Mainly because since their lunch she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the brash man.

      So not good.

      “Who?”

      Vivian joined Tressa at the round table inside the nurses’ lounge. “Alonso Wright. That real estate developer I told you about who is determined to purchase my grandmother’s house. My house,” she corrected.

      Tressa bit into a carrot. “Don’t companies like his usually have people who handle the grunt work? Are you sure the house is the only thing he’s after?”

      Vivian shot her a scowl. “Eat your rabbit food.”

      “Tell me again how you attempted to make a dramatic exit and forgot your purse.” Tressa—her soon-to-be former best friend—laughed as if it’d been the funniest story she’d ever heard.

      “Is that what friends do now? Laugh at each other’s pain?”

      “Aww. Come here.” Tressa stood, rounded the table and draped her arms around Vivian’s neck. “It’s okay. We’ve all made fools of ourselves in front of men we like.”

      When Tressa burst into laughter again, Vivian shooed her away. “It’s not funny. And I don’t like him. At least, not in the way you’re suggesting.” Like him. Please. Tressa flashed her signature do-I-look-dumb-to-you expression. “Okay, maybe there’s something about him I’m drawn to. But any woman would be drawn to him,” she said in an attempt to downplay her attraction. Then it hit her. Had she really just admitted that aloud? And to the woman who’d been trying to play matchmaker for the last year.

      “Obviously there’s something about you he’s drawn to, as well.”

      “Yeah, there is. It’s called business. I have something he wants, remember?”

      “Oh, you have something he wants all right and something tells me it has very little to do with business. Him brushing crumbs from your cheek. Calling to make sure you got home safe after your lunch meeting. Uh...that doesn’t sound like any business practices I’ve ever heard of. Sounds personal to me. Really personal. Romantic, even. You two are like a happily-ever-after just waiting to happen.”

      Vivian glared at her starry-eyed friend. “You think that because you’re a female Cupid. Always floating around shooting arrows in people’s asses. Everything to you is romantic.”

      Tressa laughed. “Maybe. But you have to admit, it feels good to be chased, right? Gotta love a determined man.”

      “I’m not being chased, and this isn’t determination. It’s borderline harassment.”

      Tressa reached across and snagged one of Vivian’s strawberries. “Are you attracted to him?”

      “No.”

      “Bullshit. You’re doing that thing.”

      That thing? Vivian’s brow furrowed. “What thing?”

      Tressa pointed to Vivian’s hand. “That thing you do when you’re lying or nervous. Tangling your fingers together.”

      Did she really? Vivian eased her hands into her lap. “Okay. Maybe a little.” Tressa shot her a narrow-eyed gaze that screamed: Liar, liar pants on fire. Dammit. The woman could read her like a book. “Okay, okay. Maybe a lotta.” She groaned. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to reel him in. I’m trying to toss him back. Besides, he wants my house, not me.”

      “What