Chapter 9
JETT
Dinner with Dina was supposed to be relaxing—a chance to reset. Instead, the mood is fraught, uptight. Every word loaded with unspoken accusations. She stabs at her salad like it’s personally offended her.
“It’s always work with you, isn’t it?” she snaps, breaking the silence. Her tone is sharp, brittle. She expected me to come over to her place last night after the party.
“I had things to do,” I say carefully. I was taking care of Cari, though I don’t tell her that. Something in the back of my mind rankles, the reason why I’m keeping this piece of information away from her.
“On a Friday night!”
I set my fork down, taking a moment before responding. I know where this is going, and I’m not in the mood for it. “You were out with your girlfriends,” I point out.
“I was waiting for you at home.”
“I told you I had something important to handle.”
“Something important,” she echoes, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. “Let me guess—work? Or was it your precious assistant again?”
The accusation catches me off guard, but I don’t show it. At least, I try not to. She’s obviously picked up on something. “What are you talking about?” I lean back in my chair, try to keep my voice steady.
She pushes her plate away like the conversation has already ruined her appetite. “You’re too close to her, Jett,” she scoffs. “You always have been.”
I blink, genuinely baffled. “Cari? She’s my assistant, Dina. She’s handling all of the details on the Vanhelm deal. Do you know how many moving parts there are? Board approvals, legal reviews, and a looming deadline for—”
She looks at me as if I’ve grown a plant on my head. “I don’t need you to regurgitate her job description to me. I couldn’t care less what she does for you—”
“But that’s the point. She’s my assistant and she organizes my calendar, makes sure I don’t miss flights—things like that. She does a lot for me.”
“That’s not all she does, is it?” Dina leans forward, her eyes narrowing. “Did you …”
My body stiffens. “Did I what?”
“I’m going to come right out and ask you. Did you go home with her last night?”
My mouth opens in shock. “What?” There’s an accusation in that sentence that I don’t like. But I can’t lie. “I did go home with her, but not how you think.” I hold my hand up, urging her to listen. “This isn’t what you think. She was drunk. Her friends were gone. I wasn’t going to leave her like that.”
“Right,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You couldn’t leave her. But you could leave me, sitting at home, wondering why my boyfriend is playing knight in shining armor for someone else.”
My jaw tightens. “Her mother is ill. So ill that the operation didn’t take out the tumor and the chemo didn’t get it all. She’s on a clinical trial. Cari has worked hard for me, and she needed to take time out and enjoy herself. I thought she’d come with her boyfriend, but she came with her friends.”
Dina seems to be paying attention. She also seems somewhat appeased. “I invited her, and told her to bring who she wanted. I also invited you but you went out for cocktails with your friends,” I point out. “Don’t make it sound like you were waiting up for me.”
She flinches, her cheeks flushing, but she recovers quickly. “This isn’t about me, Jett. This is about you—about how you always find a way to put her first.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I feel the weight of them. Am I too close to Cari? The thought unsettles me, especially after last night with the thoughts that flowed through my head, sitting in her room, watching over her. I push them aside.
“Is it?” Dina presses, her voice rising. “You talk about her like she’s family. You drop everything to take care of her.”
“That’s not true. She’s been through a lot this year,” I say, my tone harder now. “And she’s always worried about her mom. When her friends left the party, she was alone. I couldn’t let her leave alone. Someone had to look out for her.”
“And that someone has to be you?” she shoots back. “She’s an adult, Jett. She’s not your responsibility.”
I don’t respond right away, my mind racing. Dina doesn’t understand. Cari isn’t just anyone. She’s ... important. To Brooke. To me. I’ve never stopped to question why that is, and I’m not about to unpack it now.
“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” I say finally, my voice flat.
“Am I?” Dina leans back, crossing her arms. “If she’s so unimportant, then why do you look at her like that?”
My heartbeat skitters to a halt. “Like what?” I try to keep my expression neutral.
“Like she matters more than me.” Her voice breaks slightly and she plays around with the salad on her plate. “Sometimes it feels like you’d rather be with her.”
I exhale slowly, scrubbing a hand down my face as my heart starts to beat again. “This isn’t about Cari.”
“Isn’t it?” she snaps. “Because from where I’m sitting, it feels like she’s the only thing you care about, it’s either your assistant or your daughter, that’s all you ever seem to care about.” She stands abruptly.
What. The. Fuck? “That’s not fair,” I growl, fighting for control. I can’t explode in anger.
“It’s the truth.” She throws down her napkin.
My body crumples and I slump back in my chair. She already knows that Brooke is my world. I don’t hide that from any of the women I date, but she picked up on Cari? Is she jealous? And if so, why? Cari’s just my assistant. Maybe I care for her more than I should. More than is normal.
The damage is done. Dina is already walking away, her heels clicking against the floor, each step echoing like a closing door.
It’s the truth.
Her words swirl in my mind as I sit there for a moment, staring at the untouched wineglass in front of me. The truth hangs in the dimly lit room, fragile yet heavy.
Dina isn’t wrong. Cari does matter to me—but it’s something I can’t accept.