Ava wished the cushions would swallow her whole.
Ethan Hayes' gaze was fixed on her, sharp and unrelenting, like he could see past the neat lines of her blazer straight into her doubts. He hadn't even touched the coffee Maddie shoved at him. Just sat there, radiating authority, waiting for her to prove she deserved the oxygen in his living room.
Her mouth was dry. This wasn't how she imagined pitching her dreams,trapped under the scrutiny of a man who looked more like a judge than a potential investor. And worse, she couldn't stop noticing how devastatingly put-together he was. The kind of man who made expensive suits look like second skin.
"Tell me about your business," he said finally.
Not a smile. Not even a hello. Straight into interrogation.
Maddie nudged her thigh, whispering, "Go on."
So Ava launched in,clutching her portfolio, flipping to her sketches, forcing her voice not to shake. She explained her designs, her boutique, her vision for expansion. She talked about the ready-to-wear pieces that sold out in hours on her website, about the dream of scaling into a proper showroom where women could walk in and feel powerful in her clothes.
She kept it professional, but inside? Her thoughts were split: half on survival, half on how broad Ethan's shoulders looked under that suit jacket.
And when he leaned forward, asking for revenue numbers, her brain did the unforgivable,wondering what those hands would feel like if they weren't resting on polished wood but on…
Ava nearly coughed just to snap herself out of it. "Hmm… Not in this life. I choose my men and I don't do older men.
If he's making me think about sex, then I need to get laid soonest"
Money. Focus on money.
But Ethan wasn't making it easy. His questions kept coming, each one a blade peeling back her defenses.
"How did you fund your first collection?"
"What exactly went wrong with your last investor?"
"Why should I believe you'll make different decisions this time?"
She gripped her pen tighter. Don't crack. Don't show weakness.
"The initial line was self-funded," she said. "And I did well,sold out, reinvested. But last year I partnered with someone who promised production at large scale. I—" She caught herself, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Maddie's warning look burned her skin.
Don't admit you got scammed. Don't admit you were naïve.
"I learned some expensive lessons," Ava finished instead. "But the brand still has traction. People believe in my work. I just need the right capital and guidance to take it to the next level."
Ethan's expression didn't shift. No nod, no spark of interest. Just that piercing silence, like he could smell the parts of the story she wasn't telling.
"Expensive lessons," he repeated slowly. "That's a polite way of saying failure."
Heat flared in Ava's cheeks. "Failure doesn't define me. What I built still stands."
For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. Respect? Or was that just her desperation painting hope where there was none?
Maddie cut in before the air could snap. "Dad, you should see her designs. They're not just clothes,they're statements. You'd be proud to back her."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "This isn't about pride. It's about risk."
The words landed like a gavel. Maddie slumped back, muttering something under her breath. Ava didn't hear; she was too busy staring at Ethan, fighting the swell of conflicting emotions.
God, he was infuriating.
God, he was magnetic.
Every time his voice rumbled across the space, her pulse jumped, as if her body hadn't gotten the memo that this man was supposed to be nothing more than a business opportunity.
Pull it together, Ava.
She forced herself to flip through her sketches, spreading them on the coffee table like armor. Rich jewel tones, bold silhouettes, delicate details;pieces that made women look powerful even if they felt anything but.
"This is what I do," she said, her tone sharper than she intended. "Not everyone gets it, but those who do? They won't forget it."
For the first time, Ethan looked down at the drawings. Not long, just a glance. But it was enough to make her heart stutter.
"Interesting," he murmured.
A single word. Barely an acknowledgement. Yet her stomach flipped as if he'd handed her the world.
Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
She was here to secure an investor, not daydream about the exact shade of his eyes under better lighting. Not imagine what it would feel like if that cool, impassive mask cracked,if his mouth softened, if his hands…
Ava pressed her knees together under the table, cursing herself. No. This is stress. This is desperation twisting itself into attraction. He's not even your type. He's…'
Her thoughts betrayed her before she could finish. He's dangerous. That's what he is.
"Your numbers don't excite me," Ethan said suddenly, dragging her back to reality. "And fashion is a volatile market. You'll need more than vision to convince anyone…me included."
Ava straightened, lifting her chin. "Then let me prove it."
His eyes locked with hers. For the first time, he seemed to actually see her,not just the risk, not just the flaws. The woman.
The air tightened. Maddie cleared her throat loudly, breaking whatever thread was pulling taut between them. "So… should we schedule a follow-up meeting? Maybe a showroom visit?"
Ethan leaned back, folding his arms. "We'll see."
Just like that, the moment shattered. Ava forced herself to gather her papers, slip them back into her portfolio with steady fingers even though inside she felt frayed.
This was supposed to be business. Clean, professional, no mess.
So why did she leave that couch not only desperate for his approval,but terrified of what else she wanted from him?