Page 41 of A Perfect Fit

“In what regard?” I ask.

“Well, it doesn’t fit within our budget.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I believe the proposal is within the budget you advised you were happy to work with at our last meeting, Mr. Webster.” I even double-checked the budget with him after the meeting.

“I apologize for any misunderstanding.” There’s no trace of apology in his voice. “I will have my team send through our updated financials shortly, and I’d like to see a revised proposal by nine a.m. tomorrow.”

My heart beats faster. He’s got to be kidding. An updated report will probably take a good several hours’ worth of work. His deadline won’t be possible unless I or someone else on the team pulls an all-nighter tonight, which I’d rather not do, and I’m certainly not going to let anyone from my team do it either.

“I’m afraid that timing won’t be possible.” I keep my voice calm and professional. “The earliest I could have something back to you is close of business tomorrow.”

“I need the marketing proposal ahead of a board meeting tomorrow morning, Jackson. This is an urgent request. I’m sure you’ll be able to make it work.”

I don’t miss the sharpness in his tone. Pinching my nose bridge, I let out a controlled exhale. Jeffrey’s an important client with an unreasonable request, which I could—and should—say no to. But what if … because I refuse to comply with his demand, we end up losing his account? I don’t want to disappoint my team or have them worry about the consequences if I mess things up.

I can take one for the team, right? Pull an all-nighter to get it done. Keep the client happy because that’s the right thing to do, right?

“Jackson? Are you still there?”

I gulp down the lump in my throat. “I’ll see what I can do tonight.”

“Excellent.”

As predicted, I end up pulling an all-nighter at home to work on Jeffrey’s campaign proposal. After getting the revised proposal to him at exactly nine a.m., I brush my teeth and shower, sucking it up to go into the office, even though internally, I feel like shit.

When I swing open the glass double doors of Carter Marketing Solutions, I run into Andrew, who’s holding some files.

“Morning, Jackson.” His brow wrinkles as he scans my face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I say.

Andrew holds up the files in his hands. “The Pinnacle Media campaign is ready for your review and sign-off.”

“Great, thanks,” I say, taking the files from him. “I’ll take a look this afternoon.” With that, I continue down the hallway.

“Jackson,” Andrew calls out.

I turn around again.

Andrew hesitates. “You know if there’s something that’s bothering you, you can always talk to me, right?” He quickly adds, “I mean, I know Eric would want me to look out for you.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“Of course.”

I head to my office, plopping down on my chair and putting Andrew’s files on my desk. After logging in to my computer, I check my inbox, but all my eyes want to do is just close, and it’s a struggle to read anything without all the words blurring together. I give up after five minutes, standing up and heading for the elevators.

I feel like a zombie, and my body is craving caffeine.

Preferably from The Daily Brew.

Beyond my need for coffee, I have a strong urge to see Isabelle again.

That’s never happened before. Not with her or any other woman.

My conversation with her last night ended abruptly after I offered to be her fake boyfriend for a second time, surprising myself.

The fake rejection, to borrow Aaron’s words, I received last time at The Daily Brew should’ve been a clear forget it sign for me. But I ignored it. It’s confusing, like being unable to come up with an answer to a difficult exam question, no matter how many times you stare at it.