Chapter 44 Violet
VIOLET
By the time we head back to the table, Jagger’s dad is at the bar with a man who’s at least eighty, Cobie’s on the dance floor with Ford, and Hawke’s missing altogether. We must’ve missed the actual dinner. Most of the plates are cleared now, but I’m not hungry anyway.
I’ve gotten better about eating. Jagger’s made sure of it. Introducing me to new foods. Serving me veggies with every meal. Making sure I have enough protein. It’d be annoying if it wasn’t so sweet. If he wasn’t so sweet.
Jagger squeezes my hand. “Do you want to dance?”
I’m not going to lie. He scared me tonight. Not him or his reaction, even. It was his demons. The ones I glimpsed at the table, then again in the bathroom until I found a way to distract him. To bring him back to me. Now, here he is, asking me to dance?
“Really?” I ask. “You want to dance?”
“Is that a problem, Little Thief?"
The warmth in his smile makes my stomach flip-flop. “Lead the way.”
On the dance floor, Jagger grabs my waist and tugs me into him, swaying us back and forth to the live band playing on stage.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was Cinderella.
The dress, the lights, the music. Only this time, there’s no ticking clock counting down and ruining the moment.
Jagger has me for as long as he wants, and with the way he’s looking at me right now?
I have a feeling he wants to keep me for far longer than past midnight.
“Do you want to know a secret?” I ask as we sway back and forth.
He nods.
“I’ve never danced with a guy.” A nervous giggle slips out of me. “Really, I’ve never danced like this period, but…”
With a low laugh, he spins me around, then tugs me back into him, treating me like his own, life-size yo-yo. “Well, you’re doing great.”
“Thanks.” I roll my eyes and place my free hand on his shoulder. “I used to dance with my mom, so I’m not entirely useless.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “She would push all of the furniture to the sides of the house so we had enough room. Then, she’d blast music or hum her own tune and spin me around like a princess.”
The rocking stops for the barest of moments before he continues swaying me with the music. It’s as if he’s picturing it. A little me dancing with her mom in the middle of her childhood home until it was turned into a hellhole. “That’s really sweet, Vi,” he murmurs.
“They’re some of my favorite moments,” I admit. “Me and mom in our run-down house.” The memory is bittersweet, leaving me nostalgic and lonely in a way that’s hard to wrap my head around.
“Do you miss it?” he questions. “The house?”
“All the time.” I sigh. “And it’s kind of crazy.
Because I know I should hate it, like, hate the house…
But I’m kind of counting down the days until my sperm donor dies from liver failure or something, and I can move back in, spruce it up, and maybe even push all the furniture aside so I can dance with you in it, too.
” I peek up at him, surprised by my own vulnerability.
I’ve never done this. Pictured a future with someone, especially someone like Jagger.
He’s experienced a life so different from mine, we might as well be two aliens from different planets.
It’s scary, but almost freeing, too. The idea of finding a middle ground.
A home we could both appreciate. “I’ve never told anyone this,” I murmur, unsure whether or not I should backpedal or sweep my unfiltered thoughts under the proverbial rug.
“I like you telling me things.” He takes my hand on his shoulder and moves it to the back of his neck, pulling me even closer until his free hand finds my waist yet again. “I like it a lot, Vi.”
“Me, too.” Playing with the short strands at the nape of Jagger’s neck, I ask, “So…do you come to these things often?”
He looks around the banquet hall, then shrugs. “Not unless Titas forces us.”
“Is it a common thing?” I prod. “Your dad forcing you to do things you don’t want to do?”
“You could say so.”
“Hmm.”
He spins me around, then tugs me back into him, leading me like a seasoned pro. “It’s a little harder to do nowadays.”
“What? Bossing you around?”
“Yeah. Earlier this year, he threatened to take away our trust funds until we promised to start fulfilling the family name. When we didn’t cave to the pressure, all of our credit cards started declining.”
I scoff. “What an ass.”
“Our thoughts exactly, but instead of groveling for the financial faucet to turn back on, we took what we’d learned from the family business and started taking bets and making our own money.”
My brows raise. “What do you mean?”
“You know what my family’s business does, right?”
“It’s an actuarial consulting firm,” I reply.
The jumbled words make me feel like a parrot after researching what the Harden family does for a living.
Everyone Googles it at least once, though most have glazed eyes within the first three words defining the Harden expertise.
Something about statistics and historical data and regulations, and insurance companies and profitability and… yeah. It’s a lot.
“Exactly,” Jagger confirms. “We use math, statistics, and financial theory to analyze risk and uncertainty for various companies.”
“Like insurance companies, pensions, financial management, enterprises, etcetera,” I volley. “But how did you retool everything you learned for your own profit?”
He smiles down at me. “After my mom passed, my dad became more and more controlling. He’s always been a dick,” he clarifies, “but without someone to keep him in check here and there, he kept getting worse—or maybe he didn’t,” Jagger realizes.
“Maybe he stayed the same and we just grew tired of it. I’m not sure.
” His hands tighten on my lower back as if the only thing grounding him in this moment is me.
“Anyway, when he finally threatened to take our trust funds, we said screw it and started using our degrees to analyze risk and outcomes for sports instead of…insurance health costs like you mentioned, then brought it even closer to home with our Harden events.”
“But like, how?” I prod. I’m not stupid, it’s just…this is fascinating and so far out of my element, it’s not even funny.
A little crinkle forms between his brows as if he’s debating how to best explain everything to me, and I love that he’s willing to do so. That he’s willing to let me into his world, even the edgier side.
“Let’s see,” he hesitates. “So, with sports betting, there’s an individual called a linesman who works for the casino or betting company.”
“Okay?”
“The linesman’s job is to set and adjust the betting lines for sporting events.”
“And what’s a betting line?” I ask.
He chuckles softly. “It’s basically the number or odds that define how you bet on a game.
It can tell you how much a team needs to win by, or who is favored and by how much, that kind of thing.
Basically, it’s a risk-management tool for the people running the bets—AKA a casino or a betting company or, in our case, me and my brothers.
” He smiles. “Basically, we started using our degrees to predict sports outcomes and to avoid losing money every weekend while also giving the bettors decent odds they can’t get anywhere else. ”
“And the Harden events?” I prod. “How do you use your degrees for those?”
“They’re trickier,” he admits.
“Why?”
The same divot between his brows forms as he spins me around while trying to figure out the easiest way to explain something that sounds pretty freaking complex.
Pulling me into him again, he says, “Harden events are a lot less predictable because we hardly have any data, so we don’t make as much unless one of us is participating and we can cash in that way. ”
“And if you aren’t participating?” I ask.
“We make sure to bake in a decent-enough cut to make hosting an event worth it.”
My eyes widen as I take in the genius behind his words.
They’ve kind of thought of everything. This isn’t simply a side-gig.
It's a full-blown business, albeit a shady one. The realization only makes me more attracted to him. Jagger Harden. Evil genius. The man’s smarter than anyone gives him credit.
So much so, I almost feel bad for assuming he’s only gotten as far as he has because of his last name. The truth is so much more interesting.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“Honestly?” Crinkles form around my eyes as I peek up at him. “How impressed I am.”
“Not exactly how my father hoped we’d use our degrees, but...” He dips me over his arm, kisses my throat, and tugs me back to our original position. And it’s funny. How effortless he makes it feel. Me. Him. The dance. Our conversation.
I twirl under Jagger’s arm, going right back to placing my hands on his neck as I digest his words.
Not going to lie. It's a lot of information, but I’m grateful for his openness and willingness to let me into his world.
The good, the bad, and the ugly. I tickle the back of his neck with my fingertips.
“So, does this mean you have no intention of joining the family business?”
“I wouldn’t say no intention,” he clarifies.
“But it is why Titas is always riding our asses. It’s what he expects…
and what the board expects, which is another reason why he doesn’t like our…
extra-curricular activities even though he says he really only cares about our safety and our future.
” Jagger scoffs, as if the idea of his father caring about anyone other than himself is laughable at best. Then again, after meeting Titas Harden, I can’t help but agree with Jagger. He definitely makes a good point.
I glance over at his father at the bar. He’s talking to another gentleman now.
This one is just as old as the last one.
Gray hair, a solid comb-over, and a round belly to give Santa a run for his money.
So much so, the button on his suit jacket looks like it’s two seconds from popping off altogether.
Maybe if I’m lucky, it’ll hit Jagger’s father in the eye or something.
“Do you like it?” I ask, turning back to Jagger.
“Economics with a minor in actuarial science.”
“I do.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” His smile turns boyish, almost. “I like the idea of raising the standards for insurance companies. Not to bore you, but one of our jobs is to allow insurance companies to function safely and profitably while still covering people who need it. Under my dad’s rule, the pendulum has swung a little too far in one direction. ”
“And you want to swing it back?”
He nods. “Yeah, Vi. It’s why my mom started Mercer Consulting in the first place. She had the same vision.”
My heart pangs in my chest as I realize what he’s saying and how…
honorable it really is. It’s an opportunity to help people on a huge scale.
Knowing his mom felt the same way and had the same goal?
It’s humbling in a way I never truly expected.
No wonder each of her boys are such great guys when you really look at them.
And I don’t mean surface level bullshit.
I mean really look at them. Their goals.
Their hopes and dreams and aspirations. I had no idea.
“I think I would’ve liked your mom,” I tell him.
His smile softens. “I think she would’ve liked you, too.”
I look around the gorgeous ballroom, then back up at him, smoothing down the lapel along his chest. “Did I mention I like the tux?”
“Glad you approve,” he murmurs. “Have I thanked you yet for coming with me?”
“I’m just glad I’m not cramping your style,” I quip.
“Hardly.” He kisses my nose. “You’re blending in with the rest of us like you were made to be here.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“You questioning my judgement?” he retorts.
“More like taking your biases into consideration.”
Another laugh escapes him. “Bet Ford would agree with me, and he’s the furthest thing from biased.”
“I’m well aware,” I grumble. “Your brother hates me.”
“Nah. He’s just good at looking at the big picture. Finding cracks in plans. Weak spots. That kind of thing.”
“Is that what I am? Your weak spot?”
His smile softens as his hand tugs me even closer, bringing us chest to chest as he bends down until his breath teases the shell of my ear. “You have no idea.”