Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (easy readers .txt) 📗

This is an amazing accomplishment for one woman. “Did your parents help you start Diamond Analytics?”

She laughs. “No. But my dad is an investment banker, so I knew how to position the company to get funding from venture capitalists. The platinum funder for technology is SHN, and I was lucky they agreed to finance me and help me take Diamond public. They still own a large enough portion of the company that Mason sits on the board.”

We’ve reached the end of the pier and begin to circle back. Mia turns toward an older woman who has her hand out begging for change. She offers her the leftover lunch, and the woman’s face lights up.

“Thank you,” she says.

Mia smiles and pulls a five-dollar bill out of her pocket and hands that to her as well.

“I’m floored by all your accomplishments,” I tell her as we move on up the pier. “You’re beautiful and smart.” She turns to look at me, and I brush her hair back from her face.

“It can be intimidating to some men.” She looks down.

I snort and squeeze her hand. “Maybe because my mom kicks ass as a lawyer and has argued two cases in front of the Supreme Court, I’m not threatened by a strong and successful woman. I love what I do. I’m good at it, and thankfully, I make plenty of money. I like you for you.”

Mia closes her eyes for a moment. “Good. Because I like you for you, too. I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

“I’m grateful to have the chance to say it.” A wave of relief flows through me, and I temper the panic that follows. I’m not my father.

Holding Mia’s hand and spending time with her is easy, and it’s right. Looking back at the relationships I’ve had in the past, I know they weren’t right for me. That may be why I assumed I was like my dad. Now I just have a lot of work to do to get Mia and me on the right road forward. That’s where I want to be.

“I love days like this,” Mia says as we continue to walk.

“Me too. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. I’m either recruiting new players, going to games, or it’s the constant negotiation of contracts and making sure people are happy.”

“You like what you do, don’t you?”

“I do,” I assure her. “But I learned early that players are a commodity. It’s all about what they did for the team yesterday—not last week, last month, or last year. So, if a player has a bad game, they can lose their spot on the team.”

“Do you work with players in other sports?”

I nod. “I represent a handful of surfers. But they’re not part of a team, of course. For them, management is about their endorsement deals. They have to grab a great wave and score points to make it to the next invite, and there’s not much management can do to control the ocean. I just help them become walking billboards for their advertisers.”

“How did you get into baseball?”

“My college roommate was on the baseball team, and our neighbor was the California Angels’ general manager. I kept talking to him about my roommate, and eventually I got him a tryout. He played for two years. I was hooked, but I also knew I needed to learn a lot more, so I went to law school.”

“You’re with one of the largest talent-management firms.”

“Why yes, I am.” I smile. “You’ve done some homework. That’s mostly for the backup they provide. I pay them a percentage of my take, and they deal with making sure we get our money. They’d like me to take on several more clients, but I’m careful. I really want to offer good customer service for my players and their teams. My five other baseball players are on East Coast teams, but I talk to them almost daily, and I try to get out to see them play regularly.”

As we approach her house, Mia tells me she thinks SoBe could use some water, so I follow her inside. After my dog has a drink, he finds a perch at the floor-to-ceiling windows and watches the people outside. Mia and I sit together on the couch. She leans back, her dress inching up her thighs, and puts her bare feet in my lap.

I massage her foot, going in large strokes from ankle to toes and then letting my fingers slide between her toes one at a time. Her eyes close as I knead the arch of her foot.

“Mmmmm,” she says. “That feels so good.”

“You don’t usually wear sneakers, do you?”

She shakes her head lazily. “High heels most of the time.”

She’s breathing a little faster, and she bites at her bottom lip.

Gradually, I extend the rubbing to her calves. She has such sexy legs, so toned and smooth. I lift them slightly apart, giving me access all the way around. Bit by bit, I work my way higher until I’m stroking her knees. She lets me work through the tension, sighing now and then. “You always know what I like,” she murmurs. “Mmmmm...”

As I make longer and longer strokes, I move from ankle to knee, ankle to above her knee, calf to mid-thigh, and then focus on knee to mid-thigh. She opens her legs a little wider to give me access.

Using both hands around one leg, I slide ever closer to her panty line each time, pushing her dress even farther up. This makes her squirm a little, just enough to let me know she’s enjoying my touch. Then she shifts position and brings one leg into contact with the erection in my jeans.

“I think you’re enjoying this as much as I am.” She reaches out and strokes me through my pants.

I give her