Page 44 of Never To Be Mine

“Nervous?” Juno asked quietly.

I looked at her. “No.”

“Liar.”

I smiled despite myself. “Maybe a little.”

“Good.” She smoothed her dress over her thighs. “Means you care.”

Before I could respond, a woman in a sharp blazer appeared. “Mr. Blackwell? Ms. Young? They’re ready for you.”

We stood and followed her into the conference room. Four executives sat at a large oval table, each with one of my green smoothies in front of them.

My heart jumped.

“Oh, good,” I said, stepping into the room. “You got the package I shipped.”

“We did,” said the man at the head of the table, standing to shake my hand. They went around the room, introducing themselves.

More handshakes, professional smiles. We all settled into our seats.

The head of the table nodded once. “You’ve got the floor.”

I cleared my throat and dove in. “You were interested in B Well Balance several months ago, but we couldn’t reach a deal because I couldn’t provide the volume you needed. But I’m in talks with Young at Heart to scale up production. They have a bottling plant that can handle the kind of volume PriceCo requires.”

“And how far along are those talks?” one asked.

I glanced at Juno. She gave me a small nod.

“Far enough that we’re confident we can meet your needs,” I said. “So the only question is, how many units do you want?”

Light laughter. The man at the head picked up his smoothie and took a sip. “This is good stuff. We’ve had our team test it against the competition, and yours comes out on top every time. Taste, texture, nutritional profile, it beats everything else on the market.”

“That’s because I didn’t cut corners,” I said. “I spent two years perfecting the recipe. Real ingredients, no artificial anything. It tastes good because it is good.”

The conversation flowed naturally from there. I walked them through my business model and the pricing structure. Toby’s social media work had paid off. They’d seen the viral video and how engaged my audience was. How many customers had rushed to my defense.

As I talked, I could have sworn I caught her watching me. Not with that usual skepticism or irritation. Something that looked almost like… respect?

I was killing it. We were five minutes from closing the deal. Juno added a few details here and there, but for the most part, she let me take the lead. I wasn’t sure if she thought I would crash and burn and was letting me dig my own grave or if she was confident I could do it.

Thise business was mine and I was perfectly capable of handling the pitch myself.

And then it happened.

“Be honest with me,” an executive said. “I saw the video you all posted, but be honest with me. Just between us. Do you still think it tastes like piss?”

I held my breath, my eyes sliding to Juno before I could stop myself. Everything I’d worked for hung on what she’d say next. The execs were all watching her, waiting. The guy who’d asked the question had an amused expression like he’d just lobbed a grenade into the middle of my pitch.

He did. The last thirty minutes of me pitching was on the line. If she sabotaged me, I’d push her out of the fucking plane on the way home.

Juno reached across the table and grabbed one of the unopened bottles. She twisted the cap off with a sharp crack that echoed in the suddenly quiet room.

Then she tilted her head back and downed half of it in one long drink.

Holy shit.

I watched her throat work as she swallowed. Watched the way her lips wrapped around the bottle. Watched a small drop escape and trail down her chin before she wiped it away with the back of her hand.