Avery leans down and brushes her lips against Evan's jaw. He grabs her wrist before she can pull away.

"Not there," he says. He points at his lips, "Here. For five minutes."

Avery leans in and brushes her lips against his. She slides her hand up the back of his neck and runs her fingers through his hair, licking his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. He opens his mouth and their tongues tangled. His hands grab her waist, and he gently nibbles her lip. She moaned into his mouth.

The kiss deepens, and she feels an intense need rising in the pit of her stomach. She straddles his lap and slips her hands under his shirt, pulling him closer. His skin is smooth and warm under her fingers, and the muscles in his back seem to ripple at her touch. She grinds her hips against him, feeling his dick harden in his pants. With a groan, he pulls away, breaking the kiss.

"Avery, we can't," he whispers hoarsely.

Avery stares at him as if dazed. His eyes are hungry with desire, and his lips are red from kissing. She leans in, but he turns his head away, so her kiss lands on his cheek.

"Please, don't tempt me like this," he says. "I don't have enough self-control for both of us."

Avery ignores him, and trails kiss up to his jaw to his ear. She takes his delicate earlobe in her mouth and sucks lightly. He groans and grabs her ass. His dick pressed against her inner thigh.

"You want it, don't you?" he whispers.

Avery nods silently. She's never felt so out of control. She's let him take the lead before, but she's never actively tried to seduce him like this. She vaguely wonders if it's the crazy pregnancy hormones or some deeper desire.

"For the sake of the baby, please, control yourself," Evan groans.

Avery climbs off his lap, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She tugs her dress down and runs her fingers through her hair. She looks down at her feet, but she can feel Evan's gaze on her. He stands up and slips his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up.

"You're so hot when you're shy," he says.

"Let go of me," she snapped, feeling her blush deepened.

"Your face is quite red," Evan says with a smirk.

"I said let go," Avery says, pushing Evan firmly in the chest. "You're absolutely shameless!"

"How am I shameless?" he asks. "You're the one who started this you know."

Avery feels his warm fingers caress her flushed cheeks, but he doesn't force her to look up at him again. His breathing is still ragged, and she wonders how hard he's fighting his own desires. She steps backward and glances guiltily up at him.

"I'm going to go now," she says.

"I'll come with you," he says. "Just let me finish my business first."

"No, that's fine," Avery says hurriedly. "We're going to be talking about my mother and other female things. It'll be a bit awkward if you're there."

She doesn't mind Evan's presence so much as she minds Robert and all of Evan's bodyguards. Trying to have a private conversation with an audience often is almost impossible. She wants Sophie to be honest and open with her.

"Okay," Evan says, surprising her with how easily he's agreeing. "I'll ask a woman to guard you instead this time. Just be careful, okay?"

Avery calls Gabrielle as she leaves the room. The phone rings for a long time before Gabrielle finally answers. Her voice sounds muffled, and Avery is sure she can hear traffic in the background.

"Where are you?" Avery asks.

"At school, in the library," Gabrielle says. "Why?"

Gabrielle pulls her car up to the valet and leaves the keys in the ignition. She walks into The Palm House, nervously playing with her hair. Based on the charges Jackson made on her credit card, this luxury steakhouse is his favorite restaurant in the city. She hopes to find him having lunch somewhere inside.

Though he promised to return her credit cards if she cooked for him, he broke his promise. He finished the entire meal but complained that it was unfit to feed the dogs. His demands have been even more outrageous and unbearable than usual: luxury jewelry, custom-made silk pajamas, expensive sculptures, and other things she can't afford to buy him.

A waiter greets her at the door. He looked her up and down and purses his lips. She's dressed like a student in a pair of tight, light-wash jeans and a cropped linen tee. She knows she's violating about five of the rules on the restaurant's dress code.

"Have you seen a tall man with curly hair and a diamond earring?" Gabrielle asks. "I think he's a regular here."

"Are you umm, a friend of his?" the waiter asks, curling his lip.

Gabrielle nods, and the waiter sighs. He gestures for her to follow him and leads her down a wood-paneled hall to the private dining rooms. Potted palms line the hallway, and the air smells like steak and cigar smoke. The waiter opens the door and ushers her inside. The entire room smells like whiskey.

"It's good that you're here," the waiter says. "Your boyfriend has had a bit too much this afternoon and needs someone to drive him home."

"He's not my boy—" Gabrielle says, but the waiter has already shut the door.

Jackson is lying on a leather couch in the corner of the room. He groans and rolls over but ignores her. She shoves him roughly on the shoulder, and he groans again.

"Wake up," Gabrielle shouts, but it's like yelling at a stone statue.

Gabrielle looks around the room and then slips her hand into his jacket pocket. She digs around, hoping to find her credit cards, but there's nothing there. She sighed and looked down at his trousers. There's a bulge in one of the pockets that could be his wallet.

She slips a finger in and feels leather. Hardly daring to breathe, she slides another finger in, trying to get a grip on the smooth leather. Suddenly Jackson's bloodshot eyes flicker open. He shakes his hand around her waist and pulled her on top of him. His hot alcoholic breath blows on her face, and he presses his mouth to hers.

Gabrielle freezes. She stares down at him in shock and tries to pull away, but he only tugs her closer. He forces her lips open and slides his tongue into her mouth, and she tastes the spice of whiskey on his tongue. He kisses her fiercely and drunkenly, biting her lip so hard she cries out. The sound of her own voice startles her, and she shakes herself free and slaps him hard in the face.

"Jessica, you think I'll forgive you just because you came to me first?" he asked, his voice slurring, "Well, forget it!"

Is Jessica, his girlfriend or his wife? She thinks. If he remembers her name, he must be faking the amnesia. She pulls her phone from her pocket and hits record.

"Come on, tell me what you just said," she says.