Chapter 15
JETT
The call I’ve been waiting for doesn’t come.
That’s not good. If everything was on track, I’d have heard from him by now. We even joked about celebrating with the most expensive meal and a bottle of something vintage the second this was signed and sealed.
Silence isn’t a good sign.
My phone rings, slicing through the uneasy quiet. It’s him. I grab it, my pulse spiking.
“Jett.” The Vanhelm CEO’s voice is clipped. “We have a problem.”
My gut drops. “What problem?”
“The required regulatory addendum was unsigned and not submitted by the deadline. The deal is on hold.”
On hold.
Those two words smack down on me like a guillotine. I grip the phone tighter. “I’ll fix this.”
“You’d better,” he snaps. “This is … embarrassing, to say the least. We’re highly selective about the people we partner with, and right now, this makes you look sloppy.”
Sloppy.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. “It’ll be handled.”
I end the call, my blood boiling under my skin. The phone feels like a dead weight in my hand as I drop it on the desk. Cari has fucked up. She's messed up big time.
She’s never dropped the ball before, but this? This is monumental. I promised perfection. I promised reliability . Now Vanhelm’s questioning me— me —like I’m some amateur fool who can’t keep his own business together.
I rise, shoving my chair back so hard it smacks against the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me. “Fuck.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I pace the room like a caged animal. My chest burns, fury and frustration twist inside me. I don’t need this shit. Not now. Not with my father breathing down my neck, just waiting for me to fail so he can look me in the eye and say, I told you so .
I storm out and take another look at her desk. It looks a mess. She must have stayed here late last night, but where the hell is she now? I glance at my watch. It’s past ten a.m.
I dial her number, and she picks up on the third ring.
“You’re late,” I snap.
“I—”
“Get here. Right now. You’ve fucked up big time.”
There’s a beat of silence, but she doesn’t argue. Just a quiet, “Okay.”
To my surprise, she’s there in five minutes flat.
She walks in looking like hell—like she hasn’t slept. Her clothes are the same as yesterday, wrinkled and disheveled. Her hair’s in a messy knot, and she’s carrying a bunch of flowers.
My stomach twists, and the first thought that hits me—she stayed at her boyfriend’s—hardens something ugly inside me.
I cross my arms, keeping my tone cold and even. “You messed up.”
Her face pales instantly, the flowers slipping onto the table as if she’s forgotten she’s holding them. She sinks into her chair, coat still on, and rubs a shaky hand over her brow.
“I … I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet, shaky, but she looks up at me, searching my face for something—understanding, forgiveness—but I’m too angry to give it to her.
“This is the addendum. The one piece of paperwork that makes this deal compliant. It wasn’t sent.” My voice rises, sharp and unforgiving. “Do you know how this looks for me? I had promised them everything was perfect, and now they’re questioning my professionalism. My competence. I don’t need my father breathing down my neck, telling me I’m not fit to lead this company.”
Her jaw drops and she looks horrified. I try to temper my anger, but I'm aware how this will look to my father. How jubilant he’ll be. How I'll look weak and pathetic. This is shit I didn't need. She winces, and for a second, I catch a flicker of something—grief, maybe—but I push it away.
“I’m … I’m so sorry, Jett,” she whispers.
I try to slow down my breathing. Try to quell the simmering fury that flows through my veins. “All you had to do was keep track of it. I trusted you with this.”
Her chin wobbles. I see it—the cracks in her usual composure—but she forces herself to hold steady. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to keep everything together. You’re right. I should’ve caught it. But, I’m not perfect, and I can’t keep doing this—not with everything else I have going on.”
Her voice breaks on the last words, and for the first time, I see it. There are dark circles under her eyes, and exhaustion is etched into every line of her face. I don’t want to think about her and what she was up to last night.
“But Jett, my mom—she’s…”
I cut her off, too blinded by frustration to stop myself. “I know. I get it. But when you’re here, I need you focused. This is an important fucking deal.”
I don’t miss the way her shoulders flinch. My words hit hard, and I hate myself for it.
Her usual composure falters. "I’m .. I’m sorry Jett. I’m so ...” She pauses, and for a second, I think she's going to burst into tears.
I grind down on my teeth, knowing I need to be softer, telling myself that she's going through some hard times of her own. She pulls in a breath and lifts her gaze to mine.
“This was your job,” I say, quieter now though no less cutting. “I trusted you to stay on top of this, and now it looks like I can’t handle my own business. Vanhelm’s CEO is questioning if I’m reliable. If I’m just some arrogant kid who got lucky because of his last name.”
“I’ll fix it.”
I drag a weary hand down my face, the weight of it all pressing into me like concrete. “I don’t have time to babysit you. Either you’re up for this job or you’re not.”
Her voice shakes, but she holds her ground. “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. But maybe if you didn’t pile everything on me, I wouldn’t have missed it.”
Her words hit like a gut punch, and she doesn’t stop. “I’m doing my best, Jett. I’m here, holding your life together, while mine is collapsing around me.”
Her voice cracks, and she looks away, blinking rapidly.
Fuck.
I exhale hard, guilt threading through my anger. I sound like a monster. I am a monster, and she doesn’t deserve this. But all I can see is the deal slipping through my fingers. All I can hear is my father’s voice, smug and gloating.
I take a step back. “Please. Just fix this.”
She lowers her head, and I can see I’ve broken her.
Without another word, I turn and walk into my office, slamming the door harder than I need to. For both our sakes.