35. Ian
35
IAN
“So you think I should address everything with the board?” I asked my dad, leaning forward in the chair across from his desk in his home office that afternoon.
“I think it’s a good idea,” he said, sitting back as his thoughtful blue eyes locked on mine. “Personal lives usually stay personal, but since this happened at a work conference and involves your assistant…it complicates things.”
His home office matched his polished persona—mahogany bookshelves lined with awards and thick, leather-bound books, the faint scent of aged wood and success hanging in the air. It was a powerful space, perfect for such a powerful man.
But his tone wasn’t the commanding one he used in boardrooms. Right now, he wasn’t just the CEO. He was my dad, and he was genuinely trying to guide me through this mess.
“So, transparency?” I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. “You really think that’s the way to go?”
“With the board, yes.” He nodded. “It’s better to face these things head-on. Avoiding it will only raise more questions.”
“And HR?” I asked, the question heavier than I wanted it to sound. Just the thought of hashing this out with Human Resources made my stomach twist.
“You’ll need to address that, too,” he said in a steady but firm tone. “The company has a responsibility to ensure there was no undue pressure or coercion, given your position. We need to confirm Maddie feels safe and that this arrangement wasn’t something she felt she couldn’t refuse.”
A wave of unease hit me, sharp and immediate. I pressed my hands to my thighs, hoping it didn’t show on my face. “I think everything was fine there,” I said quickly, my voice tight. “At least, I never got the feeling that she felt like she couldn’t say no.”
“I believe you.” My dad’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “But it’s important that we follow protocol, Ian. It’s not just about protecting the company—it’s about protecting Maddie.”
“Of course,” I said, nodding. “I-I’ll make sure she gets a heads-up about all of that.”
“Good.” He stood, patting my shoulder as he walked around the desk. “You’re handling this well. And don’t beat yourself up too much. You’re not the first Hastings to stir up a little controversy.” A half-smile tugged at his lips. “I mean, if I was able to make CEO after everything with Carter and his mom came out, you should be fine.” He winked. “And if they do have a problem with this, thankfully, I’m not retiring anytime soon. So you’ve got time to rebuild trust with any board members who might be clutching their pearls.”
“Okay, good.” I chuckled. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime. Now let’s go eat before your mom starts sending out a search party.”
We headed into the dining room where the smell of roast and mashed potatoes greeted us. The long table was already buzzing with conversation; my siblings—Carter, Nash, and Cambrielle— were seated with their significant others, Ava, Kiara, and Mack. My mom, ever the picture of poise, sat at the head of the table, smiling warmly as we entered.
“Finally,” Nash teased. “Thought Dad was giving you a semiannual review in there.”
“Something like that,” I said, taking my seat.
Dinner was lively, the conversation shifting from work to Carter and Ava’s upcoming wedding.
“I can’t believe it’s just over a month away now,” Ava said, her eyes glittering with excitement. “It seems like we’ve been planning it forever.”
“And you only turned into Bridezilla twice,” Carter teased, putting a hand on his fiancée’s leg. “How did I get so lucky?”
Ava made a face at him and everyone chuckled.
“So, Ian,” Mack said as he smirked from across the table, leaning back in his chair, “with all the buzz about your recent engagement, does that mean you’ll actually have a plus-one for the wedding?”
Laughter rippled around the table, and I shook my head, grinning. “I’ll have to get back to you on my plus-one status. Seems like the news isn’t always accurate these days.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” Cambrielle said, rolling her eyes. “I went to lunch wearing a baby doll dress a few weeks ago, and by dinner, I had hundreds of DMs from people asking if I was pregnant.”
“That’s…fun.” Ava grimaced.
“Yeah, usually I’d be mad but…” Cambrielle’s smile widened. “…they actually weren’t wrong this time so I couldn’t be too offended.”
“What?” Kiara asked, her jaw dropping as the rest of the table erupted into shocked gasps and cheers. “You’re actually pregnant?”
Cambrielle and Mack exchanged a beaming look before nodding. “Yep. Just made it into the second trimester.”
I glanced at my mom, noting her serene expression. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
“Of course she did.” Cambrielle chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “I needed someone to complain to about my morning sickness.”
“Was it bad?” Kiara’s brows lifted, her curiosity evident. “I’ve heard it can be horrible.”
“Mine hasn’t been as bad as some people have it,” Cambrielle admitted, resting a hand on her stomach. “But let’s just say I’ve been carrying around saltine crackers like they’re drugs for weeks now.”
The table erupted into more laughter and congratulations, and the conversation quickly shifted into an enthusiastic mix of baby talk and wedding plans. Yet, as the lively chatter swirled around me, my gaze flicked to the empty chair beside me. And even though I’d always been fine attending these family dinners without a girlfriend before, the absence of someone sitting there suddenly hit me—a longing for someone to fill the gap I hadn’t even realized was there.
My siblings had all found their life partners. Someone to share whispered jokes and stolen glances with during family dinners. But me? I was the oldest of all my siblings—older than Carter and Nash by almost five years—and yet, I was still a bachelor.
They’d all been able to grow up and mature in relationships in a way I never had.
Sure, I’d had my own life experiences that had made my life full and meaningful. But I couldn’t help but think it would be nice to have someone sitting beside me during events like this.
A permanent plus-one, so to speak.
An image of Maddie sitting there and her son Grant charming everyone at the table suddenly filled my mind.
And even though becoming a husband and father had always been more abstract in the past—things that would be nice to have someday—it was suddenly all I wanted.
And even though I was probably jumping a hundred steps ahead, at least for today, I couldn’t help but think that Maddie and Grant were exactly who I wanted that future with.
Hopefully, after she talked to HR, I wouldn’t discover that the future I was starting to picture with Maddie and Grant was never even a possibility.
“Ian,” my mom said as she stepped into my office on Monday morning, her long brown hair swept back into a sleek bun, her expression calm but serious. “Your dad and I just spoke to HR. Marsha’s ready for your interview.”
A flicker of nerves tightened my chest, quick and sharp. “Okay,” I said, blowing out a low breath as I pushed back my chair and stood.
For all the times my name had been splashed across tabloids, most people would assume I’d been through countless HR interviews. But the truth was, this was uncharted territory for me. And while I was sure—or at least mostly sure—that things would turn out fine, the stakes felt higher than ever.
I loved my job here, didn’t want to risk it, or have any of this reflect badly on the company. More than that, I didn’t want Maddie to face any fallout because of my choices.
The walk down the hall was quiet, save for the click of my mom’s heels against the polished floor. The office buzzed faintly with the sounds of phones ringing and keyboards clacking, but it felt distant, muffled.
As we approached Marsha’s office, my mom reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Things should be fine,” she said, using the same soothing tone she’d always used when I was a kid and nerves got the better of me. “Just be honest, and it’ll all work out.”
I glanced at her, searching for any doubt in her brown eyes. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do.” She stopped in front of Marsha’s door, turning to face me fully. “Your dad and I went through something similar when I started working for him and it came out that we were dating. The scrutiny, the questions… It’s not easy, but as long as you were respectful with Maddie—and from what you told me last night, it sounds like you were—then it’ll be okay.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, her words steadying me more than I expected.
She pulled me into a brief hug, patting my back. “Good luck. I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”
I nodded, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and stepped into Marsha’s office.
Marsha greeted me with a professional smile, gesturing to the chair across from her desk. “Have a seat, Ian.”
The leather chair was stiff and unyielding, a fitting match for the clinical air of the room. My palms rested on my knees, slightly clammy, as Marsha shuffled some papers. The hum of the overhead light filled the silence, making my nerves prickle.
“So, Ian,” Marsha began, her tone neutral as she peered at me over the rim of her glasses. “Let’s start from the top. Can you explain, in your own words, what happened at the summit last week that led to this…situation?”
“It started with a misunderstanding.” I cleared my throat, shifting slightly in my chair. “We were at a restaurant, waiting to be seated for dinner with a client, when one of my exes came up to us and…well, I panicked. Without thinking, I introduced Maddie as my fiancée.”
“Okay.” Marsha nodded, her expression remaining steady, giving nothing away.
So I continued, explaining how what had seemed like a small, spur-of-the-moment decision had spiraled into something much bigger. How what we’d only thought would be a tiny blip at the conference had turned into the whole spectacle that was now in the gossip news.
By the time I finished recounting everything, my palms were damp, and a knot of tension had settled in my chest. I found myself searching Marsha’s face for any indication of what she might be thinking, but she was an expert at keeping her expression unreadable—probably honed over years of handling situations like this.
“And you said Maddie agreed to go along with this?” Her tone was even, revealing nothing, and it left me feeling as though I were standing on a cliff, waiting to see if the ground would crumble beneath me.
“She did,” I said quickly, but then hesitated, wanting to be as transparent as possible. “I asked her, and she agreed. But I made it clear that she didn’t have to. It was completely her choice.”
“Did she seem hesitant at all?” Marsha asked. “Is there any chance she felt pressured because of your position as her superior?”
The question made my stomach churn. I forced myself to stay calm, though. “No. At least…I hope not. I never wanted Maddie to feel like she didn’t have a choice. I thought it would be harmless.”
Marsha nodded slowly, making a note. “Were there any moments during the summit where Maddie expressed discomfort or reluctance about continuing the charade?”
“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “She seemed okay with it. If she’d told me otherwise, I would’ve stopped immediately.”
Marsha’s gaze remained steady, piercing, as she asked her next question. “And your interactions with her—would you classify any of them as romantic or physical?”
My heart stuttered, a quick, uncomfortable rhythm as memories surged forward—the kisses we’d shared, especially the one in my hotel suite where I’d barely restrained myself from taking her to my bed.
“There were moments,” I admitted, my voice low, cautious. “A few kisses. But they were mutual. Consensual. And I was careful to keep things from escalating to a more intimate level.”
Marsha nodded, her pen gliding over the notepad in front of her. “You understand why this situation raises concerns, don’t you?” She leaned back slightly, her calm professionalism doing little to ease my nerves. “The power dynamics alone complicate things.”
“I do,” I said, holding her gaze, hoping she could see the sincerity behind my words. “And I hate that I might’ve put Maddie in a position where her integrity—or her professionalism with the company—could be questioned. That was never my intention.”
“Intent matters, Ian.” Marsha’s expression softened, just slightly. “But so do perceptions.”
“I know.” I sighed. “And I feel bad that this could reflect badly on the company if it got out that the relationship was fake. Really, I had no idea we’d end up here.”
Marsha asked me a few more questions. When we were done, she said, “Thank you for your honesty, Ian. I’ll be speaking with Maddie as well to get her perspective, but your transparency is appreciated.”
I nodded, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on my shoulders. “What happens next?”
“After my interview with Maddie, my team and I will evaluate everything and make a recommendation to the board,” Marsha said. “But I don’t anticipate any drastic measures, as long as Maddie’s account aligns with yours.”
Relief flooded through me, but it was tempered by a lingering unease. “Thank you, Marsha.”
She offered a small smile. “Hang in there, Ian. It sounds like it’s been a long week.”
“It has.” I nodded, though I held back the truth. The last two days had been the hardest—but strangely, the days I’d spent pretending to be engaged to Maddie had been some of the most fun I’d had in a long time. Probably not the kind of confession Marsha needed to hear right now.
I rose from the chair, offering her a polite nod. “Thank you, Marsha.”
As I stepped into the hallway, the tension I’d been holding in my shoulders began to loosen—just slightly. My mom was waiting for me a few doors down, just as she’d promised, her steady presence a welcome balm to my frayed nerves.
“It went okay,” I said, keeping my voice measured, though my thoughts were already spinning in a hundred different directions. What would Maddie say in her interview? Had I done enough to keep things steady for both of us? And, most importantly, had I protected her from any fallout my careless actions might have caused?
I exhaled, following my mom down the hall, praying I hadn’t messed things up for either of us.