17. Tarryn
Tarryn
T he morning light assaults my eyes as I step off the elevator onto the twenty-third floor of Blake Financial. My head pounds with a subtle reminder of last night's confrontation with Christine, the echo of her warnings still ringing in my ears.
I'm barely at my desk for five minutes when my phone chimes with an email notification reminder for my meeting later this morning.
From : [email protected]
Subject : Impromptu Meeting
I reach for my coffee, noticing the slight tremor in my fingers. Before I can even consider finding Jackson, a shadow falls across my desk.
"Good morning, Tarryn."
Christine stands in my doorway, her typical plastic smile already in place. But today, it looks a little different. That doesn’t make me feel good at all.
"I hear Miguel wants to see you and Hayes," she continues, voice dripping with false concern. "Miguel asked me to prepare an ethics overview. Apparently, certain relationship dynamics have come to his attention."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I force myself to maintain eye contact, refusing to show weakness even as panic claws at my throat.
"Is that so?" I manage, proud that my voice doesn't waver.
"Indeed." She adjusts her sleeve, the gesture deliberately casual. "I'd wish you luck, but…" She trails off, the implication hanging between us. "We both know how these situations typically resolve. Not like I didn’t warn you.”
She walks away before I can respond, offering a little wave. I grab my phone, fingers flying across the screen.
Me: Christine's made her move.
My heart thunders against my ribs as I wait for Jackson's response. When it comes, it's immediate.
Jackson: On my way to your office.
I pace the confines of my office, mentally cataloging the potential damage. Professional reputation I've spent years cultivating. Junior counsel position. Christine's triumph. The suffocating reality crashes over me.
I waited too long. We should have told Miguel weeks ago. I have nobody to blame but myself.
Jackson appears in my doorway, concern etched across his features. He closes the door behind him, crossing to me in three long strides.
"She told Miguel," I blurt out, the words tumbling over each other. "Christine. She's prepared an 'ethics overview' for him."
His hands find my shoulders, solid and steady. The warmth of his palms seeps through my silk blouse, anchoring me when I feel like I might fly apart.
"Breathe, Tarryn," he says, voice low and calm. "We don't know exactly what she said or how Miguel's reacted. Let's not spiral before we have facts.”
"Facts?" I pull away, resuming my pacing. "The facts are we should have gone to Miguel weeks ago. We should have controlled the narrative before Christine could twist it.”
Jackson exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I said as much a while ago. But you weren’t ready, and I didn’t push it.”
I stop, guilt twisting like glass in my chest. "So now it’s on me?”
"No," he says quickly, firmly. "It’s on both of us. We made that decision together. And we can’t go back, but we can decide what to do next.”
I look at him, the weight of his steadiness grounding me even as my world tilts. "So what do we do?”
He steps closer. "We tell him the truth," Jackson says simply. "All of it. Our history, how we reconnected here, when things changed between us. Full transparency. No spin.”
"And if that’s not enough?" I whisper, voicing the fear that's been choking me.
His fingers graze my jaw, a soft anchor. "Then we deal with the fallout. Together."
The promise in that single word— together —steadies something inside me. I take a deep breath, straightening my spine. He’s right.
Miguel's expression remains carefully neutral as we sit across from his imposing desk forty minutes later. We've just finished explaining everything—our high school relationship, our reconnection at Blake, our recent decision to pursue a relationship despite professional complications.
"So let me get this straight," Miguel says finally, leaning back in his chair.
"You two have known each other since high school, dated seriously before college, and reconnected here at Blake Financial, where you've recently resumed a romantic relationship—all while competing for the same promotion. "
Put that way, it sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. I fight the urge to squirm in my seat, acutely aware of Jackson beside me.
"Yes," Jackson answers simply. "That's correct."
Miguel's eyes narrow slightly. "And you didn't think this was information I should have been made aware of?"
"In retrospect, we should have disclosed our history earlier," I admit, forcing myself to maintain eye contact. "But when Jackson first joined the firm, we hadn't seen each other in eight years. There was nothing to disclose except a past connection."
"And when did that change?" Miguel's gaze is piercing.
Jackson reaches for my hand—a bold move that surprises me. I fight the urge to pull away. "That's a recent development. We're here now because we want to be transparent before rumors or misunderstandings complicate the situation."
Miguel studies our joined hands, his expression thoughtful. "I appreciate your coming forward, though I wish it had been earlier." He sighs, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I assume you found out Christine has made her opinions on the matter known?"
“Yes, and she’s right that we should have come forward sooner,” I say diplomatically, unwilling to throw her under the bus despite everything.
A flicker of something—amusement, perhaps?
—crosses Miguel's face. “Well, I can’t be angry with either of you. Tarryn, I don’t have to remind you the mishaps I made along the way with my wife, Mia.
” He shakes his head and it makes me chuckle, remembering when he first came aboard Blake Financial, covered in glitter and random stickers from his young daughter.
“I remember.” I smile, hoping that shared memory softens whatever is about to come next.
"As for your situation," he continues, "I won't pretend it's ideal. Office relationships always carry potential complications—doubly so when both parties are exceptional attorneys on similar career paths."
My stomach tightens, preparing for the worst. Jackson's hand squeezes mine gently.
"That said, this firm values both of you.
You've both proven yourselves to be assets to Blake Financial, particularly in your work on the Westfield account.
" Miguel returns to his seat, his decision apparently made.
"I'll handle the situation with Christine.
In the meantime, I expect absolute professionalism during office hours and complete transparency about any situation where your personal relationship might influence professional decisions. "
Relief floods through me so powerfully I feel momentarily lightheaded. "Of course," I manage.
"Absolutely," Jackson agrees.
Miguel nods once, decisively. "Good. Then I believe we can cancel our ten o'clock meeting, as the matter has been addressed." He smiles slightly. "I appreciate your initiative in coming forward. It shows judgment and maturity—qualities this firm values highly. Even if it’s a few weeks late.”
As we leave Miguel's office, I feel both drained and exhilarated. In the elevator, away from watching eyes, Jackson pulls me into a tight embrace that I sink into gratefully.
"You were amazing in there," he murmurs against my hair.
His arms tighten around me briefly before we separate as the elevator approaches our floor.
“I’ll see you later," he says quietly before we separate. “Don’t forget I have drinks with my buddy Scott who’s in town, but I’ll make sure to come find you before I leave work.”
"Okay," I reply, already looking forward to the moment we can be alone again. "I love you.” I say the words before I can even stop myself. His eyes widen and a huge smile slides across his lips.
“Love you too, baby.” He winks. "See you later, Counselor," he says with that half smile that still makes my knees weak after all these years.
"You've been sleeping with Jackson Hayes for how long and you didn't tell me?" Zoe's voice rises above the ambient chatter of the wine bar, causing me to frantically gesture for her to keep it down.
The candlelight casts a warm glow across her fake shocked expression as she stares at me over her half-empty martini glass. I've finally revealed everything—our high school history, our reunion at Blake, and the complicated relationship that's developed over the past few months.
"It's not something I've been advertising," I mutter, taking a large sip of my own drink. The alcohol burns pleasantly down my throat, easing some of the day's residual tension.
Zoe rolls her eyes so dramatically I fear they might get stuck. "I'm not asking why you didn't take out a billboard, Tarryn. I'm asking why you didn't tell me ."
"I was worried about my professional reputation," I admit, fingers nervously tracing patterns in the condensation on my glass.
"If word got around that I was sleeping with a colleague, especially one I'm competing with for promotion that I’m also working on a project with, it could undermine everything I've worked for. "
Her expression softens slightly. "I get that. But you know I can keep a secret."
"I know. I just…" I sigh, struggling to articulate the tangle of fears and desires that have kept me silent. "I guess I thought if I didn't talk about it, it would be easier to maintain boundaries. To keep it casual."
"And how's that working out for you?" Zoe asks with a knowing smirk.
The heat rising to my face answers before my lips can form the words. "Not exactly as planned."
"No shit." She laughs, signaling the bartender for another round. "So, tell me about Christine. You mentioned she tried to warn you off Jackson?"