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AXEL: Fine. I’ll tell Butch to make some fancy Kraft shit.
A liter of coffee, one donut, and some mac and cheese. My personal trainer would be having a conniption if he knew about this. Luckily, he would never know, because I’d pared our visits down to the bare minimum required to keep a semblance of a six pack. Okay, so most days it was a four pack. With the state of my mind these days, sometimes even seeing my trainer was too mentally taxing. Maybe I really was the raging introvert Axel had always accused me of being.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but forward motion. Finding a way to quiet the buzz inside my chest. I finished up as much work as I could by six p.m. Jessa sent me a message through our internal messaging client:See you soon!
That was odd. Why hadn’t she said tomorrow? Though tomorrow was technically soon, at least compared to next year. I frowned, clicking through other screens. Iwantedto see her soon, as much as I wanted to see her in every possible way, most of which were not sanctioned or allowed by the brick fortress of my heart. But there would be no mingling. No sweetness. I couldn’t afford to let her in even an inch. Sharing donuts in my office was already a slippery slope, even if she didn’t know it.
I tacked on an extra hour of work, just to crank a few things out and find my level again. By the time I wrapped up, I knew dinner would probably be almost ready upstairs. And that’s how I preferred it. Work. Work some more. Work a little bit more. Put in the requisite socialization and eating. And then disappear into my room for more planning, stewing, and then finally, drinking so that I could quiet the thoughts enough to sleep.
Rinse and repeat. Every day.
I soared upward in the private elevator between our office suite and the penthouse. When the silver doors slid open, the clamor of voices was the first thing to greet me. Onions sizzled on the stovetop, the popping of oil taking me back to one of those pristine childhood moments, back when everything felt like a puzzle with all its pieces correctly aligned. Something deep inside me unclenched as I took in the smells of cooking and the sharp cuts of Axel’s laughter from the other room.
“Welcome home, Damian,” Butch rumbled as I walked through the kitchen. “You’ve got a fine ass mac and cheese heading your way.”
A pot burbled with water nearby. I grinned over at him. “Thanks, Butch. I need it today.”
“Comfort food, huh?”
I nodded. I needed comforting in a couple different ways by my count. A feminine laugh wafted through the air, making my forearms prickle as I headed for the conversation. That didn’t sound like Cora.
I knew who it was before I even rounded the corner into the great room. My insides froze. It had to be Jessa. I’d know that laugh, that sweet tone, anywhere. Maybe I was just repressing myself so much I was conjuring her from thin air.
“Damian!” Axel’s voice boomed through the room, and he held up his hands to welcome me. He and Cora were on one leather couch…and Jessa was on the other.
The track lights from above illuminated her in stark clarity, but she glowed with something otherworldly too. Her mahogany hair glinted auburn, her easy smile sending a jolt through me. She looked at me like I was the exact person she’d been waiting for, the perfect fourth to round out the crew.
Warmth spiraled alongside familiarity, followed up with the hot zing of desire. Everything about this woman acted as a magnet for me.Fuck.
“Hey, guys,” I said dully, setting my briefcase down on the nearest armchair. Zero was tucked into a dog bed in the corner. He lifted his head briefly, then settled back into his comfy spot. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, suddenly unsure how to navigate this situation. I desperately wanted to treat Jessa like the old friend she was—and possibly a lot more. But I couldn’t. I’d drawn the line in the sand myself. “Where’s Trace?”
“No idea,” Axel said with a frown, his hands dropping. “But dinner’s almost ready, and we know Butch it gonna knock it out of the park.”
“I invited Jessa over to show me some of her designs,” Cora said, gesturing toward the coffee table, where a big sketchbook lay open.
“Cool,” I said, unnerved by the tempest that awaited me on the other side of that comment. I jerked my head toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna check on dinner.”
Jessa’s face fell ever so slightly, which I tried really hard not to notice. She swung her head back toward Cora, who wore a fixed smile.
“Butch has got it,” Axel said, waving his hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Pour yourself a drink. Stay awhile.” He paused, sending me a look edged with something I didn’t often see from him. A command. “Come on.”
We stared at each other for a couple seconds, but it might as well have been an hour. I knew what he was doing as much as he did. He wanted Jessa and me to be together in the same room, like some adult version of a high school hookup.
But Axel would be disappointed.
However cute and warm and alluring Jessa was, there was no room left inside me for someone like her. And as my secretary, there was even less room for my usual status quo of one-and-done or every-so-often.
So what was I left with?
I had to walk away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JESSA
“Ooooh, now this one…” Cora’s voice was a purr, her eyes wide as she thumbed through my designs.
My head spun. Not only was I in the Fairchildpenthousesurrounded by exotically shaped furniture and hand-carved columns and so much fucking marble I could hardly fathom what it cost to furnish this place, but one of the most influential women in the country was actively thumbing through my designs, enthralled and excited by what I’d drawn.
