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Okay, so she fails most of the time. But that’s my problem. Not hers.
“Maybe I should’ve been a painter or a writer. Or something, anything that doesn’t involve other people.”
“But you can’t decide who you are, sweetness, not deep down where it matters. You can’t change that part of you.”
I pick at the fabric of my trousers, even if I know it’s a mistake. It’s frayed and wiry as it is already, threatening to unspool and force me to buy a new pair. But I haven’t received my first paycheck from the new job yet, and even when I do, Aunt Claire has debts she needs my help with.
I bite down, forcing away all the eddying misgivings inside of me.
All I can do is focus on the next step in front of me, and then the next step after that, and on and on until I turn back and realize, hey, I’ve actually come pretty freaking far.
If I let myself obsess about all that other crap – the giant monolith of the things I have to face – I’ll just devolve into a bumbling wreck.
Maybe I’m being a little OTT here. Maybe I should get melodrama tattooed on my forehead.
But I can’t forget the way Carmen looked as she loomed over my desk, a desperate plea in her eye for me to do something, for me to act, instead of being so reserved all the time.
I want to live up to her expectations, and yet I’m not sure I can.
But I do know one thing with complete certainty.
I really, really don’t want to lose this job.
“Jessie,” Aunt Claire says, calling my attention back to our small living room.
“Yeah?”
“Should I warm up your dinner?”
I smile, suddenly feeling like a spoiled brat for being so negative about our living situation.
So what if we don’t have the fanciest furniture, the most cutting edge TV? So what if we’re not surrounded by expensive things?
We have each other, and that’s the most important thing.
“Sure,” I tell her. “That sounds nice.”
Chapter Four
Jaxon
As I wait for Carmen’s assistant to arrive, I can’t help but think my old friend has played me like a goddamn fiddle. Somehow she got me to agree to take her assistant to the launch party, a woman I’ve never even met, just because…
I lean forward, resting my forearms on my desk, and stare at the door as if it will fly open faster the harder I gaze at it.
I’m doing this because it’s better than the alternative, better than arriving stag and drawing the eye of every socialite in the place. Or trying to find a date on my own, subjecting myself to the hungry stares of the women, their mouths practically salivating as they eye me like a piece of meat.
I’m being cruel. Not all women are like that.
The sad truth is, it’s not them. It’s me. Something is broken inside of me, a defect I’ve never been able to fix because no woman has ever made me feel.
“What does that even mean?” Carmen asked me once, as we sat sipping wine after an important business meeting.
This was in the early days – she’d recently met her lifelong partner, Kelly – and I could tell it made no sense to her. Here I was, rich, settled, doing something that made me proud… ready to set up what seemed like the perfect life.
And yet I couldn’t find someone to share it with. It was around that time I stopped looking.
“It means I want to feel, really feel, like the woman I choose is the one for me.”
Carmen narrowed her eyes. “Honestly, Jax, this is the most surprising thing about you. It makes no sense. In business you’re cold and calculating… well, most of the time.”
She offered a soft smile, and I knew she was referring to the various charitable causes we were involved in.
“But when you talk like this,” she went on, “you sound like a romantic.”
Now, my attention snaps to the door when the timid knock comes. It’s like she’s grazing the door with her knuckles instead of hammering it to let me know she’s here.
Even her knock is shy. Carmen wasn’t exaggerating.
And this is the woman I’m going to take to the party… all so I can try and encourage her out of her shell a little bit.
I silently curse Carmen, even as a smirk touches my lips. She’s somehow turned this launch party into a goddamn social experiment.
“Come in,” I call across the room, rising to my feet and putting my hands behind my back.
I need to get this over with.
Then I can get some admin work done for a couple of hours, and finally another rigorous session in the gym, where I’ll work my body hard, tearing each muscle to pieces before putting myself back together again.
Stronger. Fiercer.
The door opens and…
