Avery groans and asks, "Are you sure?"

Evan nods, but his expression is grim. Avery squeezes his hand back and traces soothing circles with her thumb. She knows that things are still tense between the Howel's and Olivers, and it'll be difficult for Evan to put aside his pride and ask Jackson for a favor.

Even if Evan did it, there's no guarantee Jackson would say yes, she thinks. I don't know much about him, but he seems like a dishonest, selfish man. How can we ever convince him to help?

"Do you know what we'll have to do?" Evan asks.

She looks up at his rigid face and suddenly understands.

"Gabrielle," they say in unison.

"It's our only chance," Evan adds.

"It's true," Avery says. "She's the only person I know who might have some sort of influence over him."

"Come on," Evan says, tugging gently on her arm. "Let's go home. We can make a plan from there."

Avery nods, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion overtake her. She follows Evan into the car and sinks deep into the plush leather seats. As they drive, she starts to draft a Facebook message to Gabrielle. She apologizes for asking for the favor and explains the problem.

Gabrielle is such a kind soul, she thinks. I'm sure she'll agree to help—even if it makes things more complicated with Jackson. She rereads the message and hits send. A moment later, her phone buzzes and she checks to see if Gabrielle has already replied.

Her blood goes cold, and she almost drops the phone. She has a new email from Diana. After ignoring Avery's emails for months, Diana has finally responded. Avery swallows hard and tries to work up the courage to open it.

Gabrielle looks out the window as the Lamborghini speeds down the highway. A black Maybach comes flying in the opposite direction and swerves out of the way just in time. She sighs and looks back at Jackson. There's a pile of photos on his lap, and his face is cold and angry.

Her phone dings and she looks down at the screen—Avery has sent her a Facebook message. Before she can open it, Jackson's long elegant hand snatches the phone away. He rolls down the window and tosses it into the road.

Gabrielle watches as the phone arcs through the air and then shatters against the blacktop. She sighs. She's had the phone for three years, and it has all of her contacts and photos in it.

"Where did he bite you?" Jackson asks.

"What?" Gabrielle says.

"Don't play innocent," he growls. "Which cheek did he bite you on?"

Gabrielle gapes at him in horror. Was he spying on me? She wonders. Did he see Bryan do that? Is that what the photos show? Is that why he sent Hill to come and get me?

"Let it go, Jackson," she says. "Bryan is practically my brother."

"I've never seen a brother look at his sister that way before," Jackson whispers, his voice dangerously quiet and soft.

Gabrielle sighs and slips her palm onto Jackson's thigh. She slowly brushes her hand upwards, feeling the lean muscles through his pants. She pauses and squeezes the top of his leg before sliding her hand inwards. The tutors at the Top Girls Club taught her that the best way to soothe an angry man is to distract him with sex. She hopes they're right as she strokes and caresses his leg.

"Jackson," she says, making her voice low and inviting. "Do you want to have a new experience in a car?"

She looks up at him and flutters her eyelashes. His face is still hard and cold, but she can see the lust building in his eyes. She slides her hand further, brushing her palm against his package.

"I'm not that desperate," he says.

"I'll give you 20% off," she offers.

He grabs her wrist and takes her hand off him. She sighs and stares out the windows again. He seems less angry than before, but she doesn't want to say or do anything that might provoke him. As the exits flash past, she begins to wonder where he's taking her. If we were going to the Top Girls Club, we should have gotten off the highway three exits ago, she thinks.

"Where are you taking me?" She asks.

"To a hotel," he says.

"What for?" she asks.

He smirks and says, "If you're offering 20% off, I'm going to make sure I get a lot more than some road head."

She bites her tongue and digs her nails into her palm. What a bastard, she thinks. Of course, he's trying to take advantage of the situation to get whatever he wants. I bet he's not even that angry about Bryan—he was probably faking the whole thing. She closes her eyes and rests her head against the window, preparing for a long and sleepless night. She finds herself dozing off almost immediately.

She wakes as the car slows to a stop, but she keeps her eyes shut and her breathing slow and even. Strong fingers reach out and pinch her upper arm.

"Wake up," Jackson says. "We're here."

Gabrielle fights the urge to smirk and keeps her eyes closed. A moment later, she hears Jackson swear. Then her door opens, and powerful arms scoop her out of her seat. She forces herself to stay limp and cracks one eye open—Jackson's face floats above her. She shuts her eyes before he can catch her looking.

"No, wonder you're tired," he whispers bitterly. "Hill tells me you were up at 5 AM to leave and see your little childhood sweetheart. I didn't realize you wanted to get away that badly."

He carries her, and she lets herself relax—enjoying the gentle floating sensation of being in his arms. She hears an elevator ding, and then Jackson stands still for a minute. When the doors slide open, he carries her down a long hallway as if she were weightless.

I wonder what he'll want to do when we get to the room, she thinks. It's probably too much to hope he'll just let me sleep.

He pauses to unlock the door and then kicks it shut behind him. A moment later, she's flying through the air as he tosses her onto a huge bed. She lands on the soft mattress, and her eyes fly open.

"Time to wake up sleeping beauty," he says, stalking toward the bed. "You know, ignoring a client is very rude. That's a ten-point deduction right there. Making him carry you up to the room like a princess is another deduction, too."

Gabrielle stops him at the edge of the bed and holds her finger up to his lips. Before he can continue lecturing her, she pulls his head down and kisses him. He responds instantly, pressing her against his body and forcing her lips open.

He slides his hand under the long skirt of her costume gown, and she starts to unbutton his shirt. Every time she undoes a button, his fingers slip closer to her core. By the time she's finished, her hands tremble, and she's gasping with need.

When she wakes in the morning, her throat is dry, and her body is sore. Her head is pillowed on Jackson's chest, and his arm is wrapped around her back. She takes a deep breath and starts to reach for his phone on the nightstand. She grasps it with the tips of her fingers and types her Facebook login.

As she types her password, the phone slips from her fingers and lands on Jackson's chest, and his eyes fly open, and he sits up.

"Are you stealing my phone?" he asks.