Chapter 11
JETT
My assistant is the last person I want to take to Bermuda for many reasons. But I have no choice. Anna’s quit, and I don’t have time to hire someone new on such short notice. Certainly not someone I trust with Brooke.
I step into the office, unfamiliar tension coiling in my chest—something I haven’t felt in a long time. I pull my usual act together, striding in like I own the universe, but inside, I’m anything but steady. My mind is on overdrive. I’ve been burying thoughts I shouldn’t have been having for months now—ever since Cari’s mother passed, she’s become a different version of herself. Stronger, but more vulnerable. It's messed with my head, and now I’m stuck in this impossible situation.
And now she’s handed me her resignation letter. I haven’t been able to sleep properly in days, trying to figure out why she wants to leave a well-paying job with good perks.
Worse, I didn’t even catch wind that she was unhappy working for me. It hurts more than it should.
I brace myself as I come out of the elevator and walk down the hallway that leads to her office space. I have to walk past her desk in order to get to my office. It adds to my torment, having to see her numerous times a day, knowing that she’s just outside my door. It’s becoming harder to shut her out of my mind.
She’s standing by the tall filing cabinet, her back to me. A charcoal gray pencil skirt with a black satin sleeveless blouse, her hair pinned up in that neat, tidy way she always does.
It shouldn’t affect me, but it does. I try not to think about what it would look like if she let that auburn hair tumble over her shoulders.
But I do.
Damn it, I do.
The idea that she’s leaving me, gnaws at my stomach. She has such a good deal here, better than she could get anywhere else. But if she wants to go, I can’t force her to stay.
Except … I don’t want her to leave.
She turns around, and her eyes lock on mine as she catches me staring. I freeze for a second, cursing myself.
She blushes, her cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “Y-you’re back,” she stammers, her voice shaky. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Nice to see you, too,” I say, my tone too casual, too easy, because I’m pissed she caught me ogling her.
I grit my teeth, forcing myself to focus. The situation is fucked, thanks to Anna. I won’t drag someone Brooke doesn’t know into this trip, not when she’s been through enough change already. It’s not fair on my girl.
“I’ve got too much shit to deal with, and I need last year’s Marsh report,” I say, sounding more clipped than I mean to. I’ve got a mountain of work to deal with in Bermuda, and I can’t afford distractions.
She hesitates for a second before nodding and rushing to get it. I walk into my office and exhale. I’ve been walking a tightrope with her for too long.
There’s something between us, something I’ve buried under the guise of professionalism. I’ve been harsh, deliberately so, to keep that distance. But it hasn’t worked. She’s been in my head for months, so bringing her to Bermuda feels like the worst idea in the world.
I take a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside as she knocks on my open door. I order her to enter. She steps in, holding the report, her expression composed, but her eyes quickly scan my face. I’m already on edge, and seeing her only sharpens it.
At some point we need to talk about that resignation letter.
“That was fast,” I murmur, slipping off my jacket and throwing it over the chair. I turn to look out the window to collect my thoughts.
“I didn’t want to give you an opportunity to yell at me.” There’s a hint of humor in her voice, though I can sense some tension lurking beneath it.
When I turn around, she’s watching me, the same way I was watching her earlier. There’s something in the way her eyes linger, a brief flicker of heat that she quickly hides. It seems like this is something we both feel. Even if it’s true, I know I can’t act on it.
All morning, I’ve tried to come up with a solution to get around this. I want Brooke to come with me, and the only way I can do that is if Cari comes too.
“The Marsh file,” she says, placing a folder on my desk.
“Sit down.” I clear my throat and force myself to look away. I shouldn’t ask her what I’m about to ask. But I can’t hire someone on such short notice. I won’t have time to observe how they are with Brooke.
I’m really stuck, and I have no other option.
CARI
Jett catches me off guard when he walks into the office, looking as though he owns the world.
He’s wearing a tailored suit that hugs his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt open just enough to make my heart skip. He’s effortlessly gorgeous, and the way he moves, it’s as if nothing in the universe could ever touch him. Confidence radiates from him like he’s untouchable. The master of everything.
I bet he proposed to her.
That thought punches me in the gut, hard. The image of him handing Alicia a ring burns in my mind. He asked me to pick up earrings for her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he already bought the ring. I’ve convinced myself that’s why he’s walking in now looking so smug and relaxed, like his life is falling perfectly into place.
I’m so glad I handed in my resignation letter. There’s no going back now. I’ve had this stupid crush for far too long.I’ve occasionally caught him looking at me in a way that makes goosebumps prickle my skin and every hair on my body stand on end. It electrifies me, takes my breath away. For a second, I’ve let myself believe that look is for me. But then, he coughs or averts his eyes, or orders me to make yet another dinner reservation.
Then reality slams back in place and I know my crush is not reciprocated. It never will be.
“That was fast,” Jett says, his tone as condescending as ever.
“I didn’t want to give you an opportunity to yell at me,” I reply, keeping my voice as steady as possible, though inside, everything is spiraling. I’m waiting for him to say something about my resignation letter.
He shrugs out of his jacket, and I try not to focus on the way his shirt clings to his body as he eases into his chair. There’s no way this ends well for me if I let myself linger on how good he looks. My mind is scattered, trying to hold onto my purpose, but his presence makes it so hard.
The muscle in his jaw flexes, and it confuses me. He doesn't like something. Do I have a booger on my face? A muffin crumb hanging off my lip? I'm suddenly self-conscious again and I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired of the feelings I have for this man. Feelings I must have because I'm still not over my mom's death.
I place the folder on his desk. “The Marsh file.”
“Sit down,” he orders, his voice controlled but laced with something else unfamiliar. Softness.
I won't be ordered around by him. Not now that I'm officially leaving.
“Sit. Down,” he says again, more firmly. “We need to talk about your resignation letter.”
I reluctantly do as he says. “I wondered when you were going to bring that up.”
He steeples his hands together, looking clearly surprised. “I’m disappointed you didn’t tell me face to face. You owed me that much, at least.”
My insides almost empty. Why does this sound so personal? I owed him? I’m his assistant. That’s all I am to him. “I handed you the letter last week and I tried to tell you, but you had me running around doing Alicia errands.”
“Alicia errands?”
I fold my arms. “The name fits, no?”
“Why are you leaving? Do I not treat you right?” I’m slightly bewildered that he’s more concerned about this and not asked me what an Alicia errand is.
“I need to leave, Jett. I've put up with your arrogance for too long.” The words tumble out of my mouth, and for once, they sound strong and certain. Stronger than I feel. I cross my arms, bracing myself.
“My arrogance?” He sits up straighter, his eyes narrowing as if I’ve just thrown him off balance. His face drains of color, and suddenly, I feel like I’ve hit him with a sledgehammer. “I'm your boss. I don't know what you mean by my arrogance.” His reaction is completely different from what I expected. I thought he’d be annoyed, maybe even indifferent. But he looks ... hurt.
“A bit of appreciation would have been nice.”
His mouth falls open, before he quickly composes himself again. “I’ve always appreciated you, Cari.” The telltale muscle flexes along his jawline again. “Why?” he asks, lifting his eyes to mine.
“I’ve been wanting to leave for a while now.” I hold his gaze, even though I’m falling apart inside.
“You have? But why?” He sounds genuinely surprised and confused. And he’s white as a ghost. Dear God. What is this? This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. I expected him to be shocked, maybe thrown off balance for a few seconds. I’m great at my job. I help him with his work and sometimes his private life. But I am replaceable. And for a man like Jett, replacing me should be relatively easy.
I have no idea what to tell him because I most certainly can’t tell him the truth. “I need a change of scenery,” I mutter, knowing how pathetic that sounds.
“Then take a vacation.”
I want to get away from you. “I don’t need a vacation. I need a new job.” One where my boss respects me and treats me with decency. Even as I think these thoughts, I know they're not true. Jett Knight does give me respect, even if he's coarse and demanding. The real reason is something I can never tell him. And now that he's going to marry Alicia, I can no longer put myself through the torture of buying lingerie for her, or picking up trinkets worth more than my rent for a year.
I cannot do that to myself any longer.
He looks stunned, like he can’t process what I’m saying. “You’re doing an exceptional job, Cari. I don’t understand.”
I feel the tension radiating from him, and it’s almost too much. This isn’t how I thought this would go. He’s not supposed to care this much.
“I’m leaving, Jett. I’ve given you my one month’s notice.”
“You can’t leave.” His voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent of desperation I’ve never heard from him before. This is so new to me, Jett Knight looking lost and bewildered. I almost feel bad for him. “And I don’t accept your resignation.”
“What do you mean you don’t accept it? You have to!” But I understand it then. He’s proposed, and he'll need me to coordinate the celebrations. I laugh, more in disbelief than amusement. “I can leave, and I will.”
He leans back, his eyes searching mine, as if trying to figure out what’s really going on. “What can I do to make you stay?”
The question throws me completely. This is not the Jett I know. He never asks. He orders. But now ... he sounds almost vulnerable.
I sit back, stunned. I expected him to accept it and bark out more chores for the day. He seems to care . It's as if this news has—dare I say it?—made him sad. “There’s nothing you can do. I need to move on.” The words hang between us. I am perplexed by the turn this has taken. “Mr. Knight?”
He looks up at me and the corner of his lip curls upwards. “You only call me Mr. Knight when I've pissed you off.” Mischief swirls in those blue irises. “It can't be a change of scenery or environment .” Clearly, he’s having difficulty believing me. He has good intuition for a man. “Don't I pay you enough? I've given you two pay raises each year.”
Which, as Eliana told me, was a lot.
“Money can't buy everything,” I say. “I want to leave. I need to leave, what with everything going on ...” I look away, because I don’t want to share my plans with him. What I intend to do for myself. The florist kiosk seems like an escape route from this. From Jett. A new start after a tough few months.
“I know you're going through a hard time. It’s been a difficult year for you, and the last six months …” His voice trails off, but he looks at me earnestly. His face turning apologetic, as if he’s sorry for bringing back my sadness. “If you need more time off, Cari, I'm happy to give it. Take as long as you need.”
It's not about taking time off.
It's about getting away from this man who messes with my head.
“Are you still having your counselling sessions?” he asks.
“They stopped last month.” ? I’ve been going every week for the last six months, and it has helped, but I don’t want to depend on anything like a crutch. I’m grateful that I had them, but I need to start living my own life rather than dwelling on the past and if I’m going to be serious about opening my own little flower kiosk, I need to get away from Jett.
“I can—the company can—pay for more. Whatever you need. We take care of our employees.”
If he’s hoping to dangle that in front of my face or scare me into thinking that I won’t have the same perks and benefits elsewhere, it’s not going to work. “I’m good, thanks. I just need to leave. It’s what I want.”
He stares at me for a moment, his jaw tight, then he stands and turns to the window, the silence between us heavy. When he finally speaks, his voice is somber. “I need you to do one last thing for me.”
Here it comes. I knew it. He’s only holding onto me because he needs something. I sigh in dismay, and force myself to stop staring at his back. At those wide shoulders, and the body that tapers to a perfect V at the hips.
“What now?”
“Anna quit.”
“Anna quit?” Though this isn’t surprising.
“She can’t just take off for weeks—”
“I’m pretty sure she let you know.”
“She’s gone and I need you to come with me to Bermuda. I have a lot of business to tend to over there and I can’t reschedule. I can’t find childcare for Brooke on such short notice. We leave next week on Tuesday, and I don’t know anyone else Brooke would want to stay with.”
My heart sinks. Of course, it’s about Brooke. “I’m not your babysitter, Jett. I’m your PA.”
“I know what you are to me.” He grits his teeth together, hissing in a tone which startles me.
“Can’t you ask Alicia?” I say, unable to stop the bitterness in my tone. “Surely she’ll jump at the prospect of yet another vacation to an exotic island?”
His eyes widen at my insolent tone. “We are no longer together.”
I sit up straighter, his words making me jolt. “Oh?”
His eyes meet mine, and I see something in them that I didn’t expect. It’s not hurt, but hardness. “The only person I can think of ... to fill that role … is you .”
The air vacuums clean out of my lungs. It takes a moment to steady my breathing. To process his request. To understand what it means. He and Alicia are no longer together. And now he’s asking me to go on this business trip with him. Me and Jett, with Brooke. Away from work. On a beautiful island. Somewhere hot and exotic. For three weeks.
I cannot go. No way. “You can find a replacement,” I rush to assure him. “You just need to hire a nanny. You can afford it.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“It’s always about the money with you,” I throw back. Because I know I’ll be leaving, I’ve lost control over my mouth.
He looks genuinely hurt. “I can’t leave Brooke with someone I barely know, not while I’ll be in meetings and tending to business overseas. Especially somewhere that she’s not familiar with and doesn’t have family around her.”
“Why not ask Alicia to help out, if you’re so desperate?” I suggest, examining his face for signs of trauma, wanting to know more about that situation. Why did they split up? And when? This has come as a complete shock to me. He seemed quite taken with her. Who broke it off? Inquisitive thoughts circle around in my brain like vultures.
“I just told you. We’re no longer together.” He lifts a piece of paper from the desk and pretends to read it. I know he’s pretending, because it’s an address. A scribble. Nothing of any importance.
But I'm dismissed, it seems. That's his usual way of letting me know I can leave.
“You didn’t propose?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, my mind spinning. I’ve spent the last week lying in bed, imagining it all—Jett proposing to Alicia, the perfect romantic scene, and the sinking feeling that follows every time I think about it. Each scenario is more painful than the last.
Jett’s head snaps up, and his sharp gaze locks onto mine. His expression is a mix of confusion and something that almost says, what the hell are you talking about ?
“Propose?” he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Heat rushes to my face, a blush creeping across my skin. “I thought … maybe … you went to dinner, and then … well, you didn’t come back to the office.” My words sound ridiculous even to my own ears, but I can’t stop them.
“I had business in Sacramento.” His tone is clipped, and he shakes his head like he’s trying to piece together my jumbled logic. “We spoke, you and I. I needed you to scan some contracts and email them to me, remember?”
I nod, feeling utterly foolish. Of course, I remember. But I also assumed she might have jetted off with him, like she usually does. Unsurprisingly, my imagination just ran wild, spinning out a narrative that wasn’t real.
“You feeling okay?” Jett’s voice softens, his brows furrowing as he watches me.
My heart does an awkward flip, and suddenly everything shifts. The realization crashes down on me—he’s single. He’s not with Alicia anymore. Can I really trust myself to go on this trip with him? To spend that much time around him?
“I didn’t want to ask you,” he says, looking away for a moment, almost like he’s searching for the right words. “But I doubt Alicia would want to take care of Brooke.”
There’s a bitterness in his tone when he says her name. He mutters something under his breath, something like, she doesn’t give a damn about her. It’s clear now—he’s not with her anymore.
But he also didn’t want to ask me.
I feel a strange mix of emotions. Part of me wants to be annoyed, to be angry that he’s putting me in this position. He’s just a selfish, stubborn, controlling man. But another part of me—one I don’t like to acknowledge—is starting to feel sorry for him. This man is in crisis mode.
? I sigh. “Okaaay. I’ll do it,” I say, begrudgingly. “But on one condition—you accept my resignation.”
His eyes snap back to mine, and he seems to hesitate, as if he’s feeling uneasy. As if he doesn’t like my condition.
“I’ll accept it when you get back.” His voice is measured, almost calculated.
The words confuse me. I frown, trying to make sense of them. When I get back? “No, Jett. I now have three weeks left, on account of you going away to Sacramento. I handed in my resignation last week.”
“We leave in five days. I will need time to find a new nanny, and with spending so much time in Bermuda, I won’t be able to do that effectively. Just start the clock from when we leave, please? It gives me a week when we get back. You’ll be leaving, my nanny has left. I’m going to be a wreck.”
I know he is.
I look at the calendar on his desk, pretending to make a difficult decision. At least I have a week before we leave, which means I can go shopping for a few things this weekend.
“Unless you have another job lined up. I wouldn’t want to mess up your new start date,” he says, sounding miserable.
“No. It works,” I say, cupping my chin thoughtfully. ? I don’t have a start date to consider because I’m not looking for a new job. I have other plans.
He looks shocked, then composes his expressions instantly. “Of course, while in Bermuda, you’ll be expected to look after Brooke on the weekdays, but you’ll have the weekends and evenings to yourself to do as you wish. It will be a vacation for you. A change of environment and scenery that you seem to want so badly.” There’s a prickliness in his tone.
He picks up a pen. “I’ll double your wages for the trouble,” he adds, his tone now brusque and businesslike. It’s like he’s flicked a switch and returned to the Jett I know—always in control, always one step ahead, and always transactional.
“You’ve already increased my wages,” I murmur, still thrown off by the moment we just shared. After Mom’s diagnosis, he quietly gave me a raise. I noticed it on my next paycheck, but he never mentioned it. He took care of me even when I didn’t ask him to. Then after she passed, he gave me another raise. When I questioned it, he told me I was due as I’d been working so hard, even under my difficult circumstances.
“I will give you a little bonus for the trouble, for you having to go to Bermuda and having to delay the start of your notice period.”
“If you insist.” Who am I to argue with that? I’ll be able to have more in savings, because I don’t know how long it will take to start up my business.
“Deal,” he says after a long pause. He holds his hand out to me. For a moment, I’m stunned. Then I take it, feeling the warmth of his skin. His hand is firm, strong, and his fingers curl around mine, sending a jolt through my entire body. It’s like holding a live wire.
I pull my hand away, but the sensation lingers, my heart racing. The muscle in his jaw flexes as he watches me, his eyes darkening for a second. He doesn’t want to take me to Bermuda. I know it. But he doesn’t have a choice.
He looks down at his papers.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice quieter now. “I appreciate it.”
He nods, still focused on whatever paper he’s scribbling on. “Close the door on your way out.”
I turn to leave, my mind still spinning from the conversation. I glance back at him once, but he’s already moved on. He’s back to work, as if our conversation didn’t faze him.