Resist

RESIST AVA HARRISON Resist Copyright © 2023 by Ava Harrison Published by AH Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products, brands, and/or restaurants referenced in the work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Resist Cover Design: Hang Le Cover Image: Daniel Jaems Editor: Readers Together, Robin Covington Proofreader: Editing4Indies, The Ryder’s Proof For those who love a sexy grump . . . CONTENTS Author Note Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Epilogue Sneak Peak Of Provoke Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Newsletter Mailing List Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Ava Harrison AUTHOR NOTE Resist is a fun grumpy/sunshine romance with witty sarcastic banter. That being said, there are a few things in the book that could be triggering. For a list of triggers, click here “We must laugh in the face of our helplessness against the forces of nature – or go insane.” ~Charlie Chaplin PROLOGUE Paxton Coming here probably isn't one of my finest decisions. Despite this being part of the job, I have way too much shit to do. Standing around at a party, throwing a Hail Mary for a project that's not even guaranteed to pan out should not be on top of my list of priorities. It's a long shot that the man who can make it happen will even be here. Reaching into my pocket, I grab my cell and check the screen. Fuck. I'm waiting for a call that could help this night, and my decisions, make sense. So far, there have been absolutely nothing to give me that validation. Go fucking figure. I'm trying to make something huge happen for two of my clients—and me. If the stars align, this could be the big one. The screenplay is in my hands, and the lead actor is already on board. All I need is a director attached to the project to sell this as a package deal to a studio. We'll still need a leading lady, but with Brad Wright at the helm, we can have the pick of the best of Hollywood to play opposite him. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of options and ideas when my phone finally pings. When I see my assistant's name light up on the screen, I just about fucking embarrass myself by fist-pumping the air. Kevin: Stefan Linburg is a no-show. Didn’t RSVP. But since you're already there, have fun. Maybe get laid… All the air deflates from my chest, and my hand balls into a fist at my side. I should've known. The man is a recluse who refuses to take traditional meetings, but I had hope. Fickle. Fucking. Hope. This needs to be pitched in person, and tonight was my best shot. Now I'm back to square one, wondering what’s the next step? I reread the text, and a laugh rips through my chest at Kevin's suggestion. Get laid. At least he has ideas. Kevin is ingenious like that and always down for forcing me to optimize bad situations. A good lay would do wonders for my ego at the moment. Looking around the room, I scan the options. Most of the women here are actresses, which won't bode well for a one-night stand, seeing as I'm a talent agent. I have no interest in shitting where I eat. Been there. Done that. Lesson learned. In the early days of my career, I thought I was a king on my throne. I learned quickly that I was simply a page, needing to understand my role and play the part. After being burned, I left Hollywood, relocated to New York, set up shop, and have since become one of the leading talent agents in the city. My clients are on top of the world, and I simply oversee their climb. Making kings and queens behind the scenes. I'm fine with it. I'll ride that train all the way to the top of my station and rake in the money that comes along with it. I decide to cut my losses and head home to lick my wounds instead of a random pussy. That's when I see her. Who the hell is that? She’s breathtaking. With long, blonde hair and the face of a goddess, I can’t pull my gaze away. She flashes an infectious smile at anyone in her vicinity, and I'm fascinated. It's hard to make out the color of her eyes, but I strain to see. Searching her face, I try to determine who the beauty is but come up short, which is a great thing. She would be the perfect distraction for the night. No strings. No expectations. No complications. I almost groan when she turns her back on me to talk to some asshole who’s grinning down at her like a lunatic. I should probably save her from the Jeffery Dahmer-wannabe, who's looking