6
JAKE
My phone buzzes for what feels like the hundredth time today. I drag myself from the depths of jet lag, my voice groggy with exhaustion.
“Hello?” I don’t bother to check the caller’s name.
"Jake! Thank goodness you answered. Your phone was switched off before,” a male voice says.
“Yeah, I was on a flight. Just landed a few hours ago.”
“We have a crisis on our hands. The artwork shipment has been delayed from Cannes, and the exhibition is just days away. What are we going to do?"
It takes me a few seconds to recognize the voice as Walter’s. Walter is one of my oldest clients, and together, we’ve worked on more than seven exhibitions. Over the years, he has also bought some incredible pieces from the restored collection. Walter is a trust fund baby like me, but he leaned into it instead of moving away from it and trying to find a new identity like I did.
Every year, Walter puts up an exhibition downtown for his inner circle, and for the past few years, my company has been helping him organize it.
I rub my temples, feeling the exhaustion settle deeper. "Calm down, Walter. Take a breath. I just got back to the office. What's the situation?"
As he launches into a torrent of concerns and potential catastrophes that I can hardly keep up with, I tune him out for a moment until his whiny voice cuts into my haze. “This is going to be a total disaster.”
"We'll sort this out. I'll contact the team in Paris and figure out the best course of action. I need you to trust us on this."
“I trust you, Jake. I know you’re the only one who can deal with it.”
After a few more calming assurances, we finally end the call. I glance at the clock – it's been a relentless morning, and I feel every minute of it.
Before I can catch my breath, Bea enters the room. "Jake, the new hire is here.”
“Great,” I mutter. Just what I need right now.
“Would you like a moment?" She raises a brow.
I rub my temples, the residue of stress still lingering. "No, bring them in. Let's get this started."
"I'll bring in Ms. Crofton, for you." Bea leaves my office with a quick nod. The name hits me like a sudden jolt. Crofton.
A curious mix of surprise and amusement courses through me, and I can't help but smirk to myself. Is this a good omen or a bad one that the candidate has the same surname as Kiera? The universe certainly has a sense of humor.
I quickly pull up my email, fingers tapping against the keyboard.
The admin team handled the hiring, and my busy travel schedule left me out of the loop. The details load on the screen, and my chin drops as a
gasp escapes from the doorway.
I turn, finding the source of the sound. There, standing with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty etched on her features, is my estranged best friend. The one that got away. The love of my life. Kiera Crofton.
Time freezes around us. The world disappears, until it’s just Kiera and me. I don’t see the grown woman walking through the door. No, she’s my best friend with kind blue eyes and hair crisp straight and braided and we are back in high school all over again.
“Kiera,” I breathe as I slowly come up to my feet.
She inhales sharply, and just like that, the bubble around us bursts for good.
“Kiera, I—” Suddenly, I’m transported back to the night everything went wrong, when I couldn’t get the truth out in time.
To my relief, this time, she doesn’t turn away from me. She remains rooted to her spot, her jaw agape.
Clearly, she wasn’t expecting me either.
Five years ago, she was beautiful and the star of my fantasies. Now, she has grown and matured, and she is absolutely fucking gorgeous. A dream come true.
Her blonde hair cascades in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face with features that have sharpened over the years. Her jaw clenches and unclenches as she looks at me, and I get the strangest urge to run my fingers over it.
Her blue eyes, a shade that mirrors the open sky, hold a depth that wasn't there before. She’s the girl I’ve known since middle school, yet everything has changed.
As our eyes meet, I feel the weight of the past and the tension in the air. The memory of the night we shared, the revelations, the anger, and the hurt resurface like echoes from a distant time. Yet, under all that, I can't deny the rush of familiarity and the old feelings that stir within me.
Several seconds pass as we continue to stare at each other, the time around us frozen.
Kiera finally shatters the spell, rolling her eyes with a touch of sarcasm that cuts through the tension.
"Well, that's just my luck."
Her tone snaps me out of the trance I've been in, and I take a step back, clearing my throat as I try to recalibrate myself. The last thing I need is to make a fool of myself.
Kiera, meanwhile, is still going off. “Here I thought that things were finally going my way, and I show up at my dream job, and here you are, the devil in flesh and blood.”
“This is your dream job?” I ask, bemused.
This seems to piss her off; her teeth gritted, and her eyes narrowed. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t launch herself at me.
After the initial awkwardness, we’re back at that night at the dorm, and nothing has changed.
“That’s what you got from all that?”
“It’s also bad form to call your boss the devil on the first day of your job.”
“I’m not working yet.” She shrugs.
“Technically, you are; you just signed a contract,” I point out.
“Ugh.” She takes a step back. She’s almost out of my office.
“Wait,” I say, realizing how wrong my approach is.
The last thing I want is to watch her walk out like this. For years, I’ve dreamed of a redo of whatever happened five years ago. And now that it is finally here, I’m ruining it.
“I had no idea you were the one they hired.”
She raises a brow. “You’re the CEO, aren’t you?”
At least she has stopped walking. Relief shoots through me. Just the sight of her has all those overwhelming feelings come right back.
I missed her so much, but I thought I was over her. My thumping heart says apparently not.
“I was caught up in some things and wasn’t in the country when you were hired. My admin team handled it.”
“I see,” she says. “And you had no interest in knowing who they had hired? The person you’re supposed to work closely with on a high-stakes project?”
I frown. What is she even trying to imply?
“Like I said, I was out of the country. The hire was made last minute, and I wasn’t aware who they had chosen.” I pause then and look her up and down.
She fidgets under my gaze, looking slightly uncomfortable.
Do I affect her? The thought almost brings a smirk to my face before I push it down. The last thing I need right now is to behave childishly.
I’m still standing, so I gesture for her to sit opposite me. “Please sit down and we can talk it out.”
“I don’t see what we have to talk about,” she says, her voice cold, and I see a trace of the woman who stormed out on me the last time I saw her.
She’s still angry at me. I’m not surprised.
I’ve tried to reach out to her many times, but she has always shut me out.
“You’ve already met with HR; the contract is all drawn up and signed,” I say. “It’ll take us a week to nullify it.”
She blanches. “That long?”
“Yes.”
She looks away, not meeting my gaze.
I quickly scan Kiera's resume, my initial surprise giving way to genuine admiration. The wealth of experience and expertise she brings to the table is impressive, to say the least.
Finally, I look up, meeting her gaze. "Kiera, your resume is... really impressive.”
She raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. "You mean, you didn't bother to check who you were hiring?"
"As I mentioned, I've been away, and the admin team handled the hiring process. I only saw your name when my secretary mentioned Ms. Crofton would be coming in."
She folds her arms in front of herself. “Is that right?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrug. “If you think it was an evil plan of mine to trick you into coming to work for me, I assure you, it wasn’t.”
“Sure,” she says drily.
Kiera's eyes wander around my office, taking in the curated chaos of art and paperwork that defines my workspace.
"Impressed by the organized chaos, or are you just mentally redecorating?"
I expect an equally sarcastic reply, but she says, “Do you overlook much of the restoration?”
“Yes, I do, personally,” I say. “Of course, the logistics of running a company consumes most of my time, but I try to be there for my clients, and a hands-on approach is the best way to go about it.”
Kiera’s face screws up a little, almost like she has smelled something unpleasant. “Okay,” she finally says. “And just for the record, I had no idea it was your firm. I would never—”
“I know.” I nod.
“It’s just that I never saw you doing this kind of thing.”
“I come from a long line of artists,” I remind her.
Kiera has gone very quiet. Maybe she’s mentally thinking of ways to make her escape.
"Look, I'm not sure if you can stomach working with me, but they hired you because you're the best, and the best is what we do here. If we can put the past behind us, act like we just met, I think we could make a killer team for this project."
Her eyes hold a mix of wariness and consideration.
"It would be a huge resume booster for you," I say. "Your expertise combined with the projects we handle here could elevate your profile significantly. What do you say?"
As she considers my words, she bites her lip, a gesture that sends a ripple of awareness through me. A flicker of desire courses through me.
The action, so innocent yet captivating, momentarily fixates my attention.
She looks beautiful, and my thoughts veer into dangerous territory.
I imagine that it is my finger tracing her mouth, seeing how wet it is. I have to shake my head, mentally admonishing myself to stay focused.
She’s not my Kiera anymore. She’s practically a stranger. She only looks like the girl that I grew up with.
"Alright, Jake. Let's make it work."
Her agreement comes with a note of caution, and I can sense the unspoken reservations. A surge of satisfaction courses through me, almost bordering on ecstasy. It's as if she's given me a second chance. Giving us a second chance.
“We’re going to be a formidable force,” I tell her.
She raises a brow. “Formidable force, huh? I sure hope so.”