Page 116 of Last First Kiss

Javi chuckles into his glass. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “See! You never let up. It’s nice to be challenged by somebody.”

Despite himself, Jordan smiles. He can admit he’s secretly wanted the same. A rival. Kim and Connor are talented at what they do, but he’s never seen them as competition. They’ve never fought him for a project. Happy to stay in their own lane. Jordan needs someone to push him to be the best.

Other than himself, that is.

For better or worse, Javi has become that person.

Jordan raises his glass. “Always here to make you feel second best.”

Javi’s mouth twitches as their glasses clink. He takes a healthy gulp. His throat works as he swallows, and Jordan stabs his lime with a cocktail straw just for something else to look at.

“Is that why you left Elite Events?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“The lack of competition,” Jordan clarifies.

“Oh.” Javi’s brow lowers. He swirls his drink, the amber liquid catching the light. In one quick motion, he downs the rest and orders a second from the bartender. “No, that’s not it.”

Jordan waits until Javi has a fresh glass before he says, “What then? Low pay?”

“Nope.”

“No career advancement opportunities?”

“Para nada,” Javi says easily.

“Shitty boss? Toxic environment? You got into it with a client?”

Javi slurps, then gives Jordan a finger gun. “Bingo!”

“Which one?”

“All the above.”

Jordan’s lips purse, confused.

Eyes downcast, Javi says, “I was one of the youngest and best that company ever had. Everyone wanted to work with me.” He frowns. “Including an attorney general. His daughterrequestedme to plan her wedding. Biggest client I ever landed.”

Jordan sips quietly, listening.

“One day, the AG saw my Instagram.” Javi places his phone on the bar. “It was late October. Right around Atlanta Pride. I was there with friends. Time of my life, so of course I posted photos.”

He opens the post for Jordan to see. It’s a carousel of clear blue skies and bright-colored flags and Javi beaming in a vintage Ricky Martin T-shirt, the sleeves cut off and hem shortened to show off his toned stomach. A rainbow bandana kept curls out of his eyes. The Cuban flag colors in his white mariposa tattoo stand out richly against his brown skin.

He looks different. Less douchey, more boyish. Unrestrained.

Jordan scratches his eyebrow. “And—?”

“And.” Javi sighs. “The AG went right to Katharine. Said he ‘respects everyone’s choices’—his words, not mine. Then he told Katharine to find someone else to plan his daughter’s wedding.”

Jordan tries not to react. It doesn’t work.

“Katharine told him to go fuck himself, right?”

Javi laughs, exasperated. “Yup. That’s exactly what she did. Right after she called me to her office. She gave me a speech about being her most valued employee. That we were ateam.” He takes another swallow. “Then she politely assigned me to some celebrity’s birthday party.”

Jordan blinks, surprised.