Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
JACKSON
“Istill can’t believe you won the bet,” I say to Isabelle.
We’re settled in our plane seats, ready for takeoff.
When we checked in our luggage earlier, it turned out that Isabelle’s luggage was exactly the maximum acceptable weight. I was impressed. And shocked. And still am. I’m starting to think she somehow rigged the scale.
“Okay, I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I weighed it at home before leaving.”
“That’s cheating,” I grumble. “It’s not a bet if you already know the answer.”
A smug grin springs to her lips. “You never asked, though, or said that was part of the rules.”
I’ll give her that.
“I have a serious question for you, though,” she says. “How are you feeling about your company being nominated as a finalist for tonight?”
“If we win, that would be great,” I respond. “But if we don’t, that’s all good, too. There are many other businesses that also deserve the win.”
Truthfully, I don’t even care about winning or networking tonight. The only thing I’m looking forward to is spending more time with Isabelle.
She fakes a gasp. “I’m shocked. What happened to your ruthless competitive spirit?”
“It’s reserved for one person only.”
Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Very smooth.”
“Put your seat belt on, Isabelle.”
She does as I said.
Once the plane takes off, I take out my laptop and attempt to get some work done, but it’s a challenge because I’m tempted to sneak a glance at Isabelle every few minutes.
She’s quietly reading another one of her romance novels—one with a cartoon cover—and from the way her eyes are glued to the pages, I can tell she’s fully immersed in the story.
At one point, she lets out a giggle and a tiny squeal at something she just read.
Intrigue filling my body, I close my laptop lid and lean over to peer at her book. “What’s got you so excited?”
“Nothing,” she yelps, snapping the book shut.
The only thing I manage to catch is the words good girl on the page.
A smirk springs to my lips as I reopen my laptop lid. “Good girl, huh?”
Isabelle freezes. “What about it?”
“I’m thinking I should start calling you a good girl.”
Isabelle crosses her arms. “Don’t make fun of me. Who knows what kind of freaky stuff you’re into?”
“You wanna know?”
She mimes gagging. “No, thanks.”
I let out a laugh, and Isabelle grumbles before putting her book away, digging around her bag for something else.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She takes out a magazine. “Switching to reading this instead since I apparently can’t keep a straight face when I’m reading my books next to you.”
I glance at the magazine. “The latest edition of Sparkes Magazine.”
Perfect timing for tonight’s event.
Isabelle points to the photo of a woman on one of the pages. “That’s Elizabeth Sparkes, founder and editor in chief. She’s an inspiration to me.”
I clear my throat and do my best to act composed. About what she just said, I have something planned, but I won’t spoil it yet.
Isabelle studies me suspiciously. “What?”
“Nothing,” I quickly say.
Her eyes narrow. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
Isabelle frowns. “You can’t keep me hanging, especially if it’s about Sparkes Magazine.” She hugs the magazine close to her chest. “How about if you tell me, I’ll buy you an ice cream?”
I tap my chin, considering a counteroffer. “How about I get free coffee at The Daily Brew for a year?”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Are you trying to get me fired?”
“It’s gonna take more than just a free ice cream to get me to spoil the surprise, Bella.”
Isabelle’s ears perk up, and she sits straighter in her seat. “So, there is a surprise.”
Fuck. I really am bad at keeping this a secret.
“Maybe.”
Before she can respond, the pilot makes an announcement, signaling the cabin crew to prepare for landing, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
“Looks like you’ll have to wait to find out,” I say.
When we arrive at the hotel, the first thing I notice is the architecture. It’s something I sometimes like to do in my head for fun—analyze buildings, both the interior and exterior, and think about what might’ve gone through the architect’s head during the design process.
“The hotel’s nice,” Isabelle says.
“The layout flows really well,” I agree, scanning the high ceilings and lounge seating. “Though I think it’d benefit from taking more advantage of the natural lighting, like by adding skylights.” I grimace. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all analytical.”
Isabelle shakes her head. “No, don’t apologize. You’re into architecture, right?”
“Just a hobby.” I shrug, brushing it off. “Let’s check in.”
We walk up to the reception and collect our respective room cards. On our way to the elevators, there’s a loud, high-pitched voice from behind.
“Jacky? Is that you?!”
It’s Hilary, sauntering toward Isabelle and me with a large Louis Vuitton suitcase. I haven’t seen her at the gym recently, and I forget she’s also attending tonight’s event.
She beams when she stops in front of us and eyes me up and down, letting out a giggle. “You look good in that suit. You looked good in a suit last time, too.”
Beside me, Isabelle’s lips press into a tight line.
“Hi, Hilary,” I say.
She turns to Isabelle. “Is this your girlfriend?”
I don’t think I told Hilary I had a girlfriend when we spoke at The Daily Brew—only that there was someone I was seeing.
Nonetheless, a, “Yes,” tumbles out of my mouth.
I don’t need to prove to Hilary anything, but it’s as if I want to take advantage of the opportunity to call Isabelle my girlfriend again, even if we’re only pretending.
Hilary’s face falls. “Oh.”
“Nice to meet you, Hilary,” Isabelle adds.
She doesn’t look upset that I’ve spontaneously escalated needing a date to needing a girlfriend. Hopefully, that’s a good sign.
Hilary frowns at her. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but if she plans on giving Isabelle any crap, I won’t put up with it.
“Should we head to our room now, babe?” Isabelle adds, looping her arm in mine.
“Yeah,” I say, my throat tightening. I know she’s only pretending, but it feels natural, like I could get used to it.
Grabbing our luggage, Isabelle and I head for the elevators. I expect her to call me out on calling her my girlfriend, but she only asks, “How do you know Hilary?”
“We go to the same gym,” I say, pressing the elevator call button.
Isabelle purses her lips, a pinched expression touching her face. “She obviously has a huge crush on you.”
I stare at her, holding back a laugh. “Are you jealous?”
I never thought I’d ever see Isabelle jealous, but here we are.
“Why would I be jealous?” she huffs.
“Whatever you say, Bella.”
The elevator door opens with a ding, and I gesture for her to step inside first.
“The event starts at six, so maybe we can meet outside the elevators on our floor at five fifty?” I say.
“Sounds good.”
We arrive at the eighteenth floor, parting ways and heading to our rooms, mine a few down from hers.
I spend the next hour showering and getting ready for the event, spraying on my favorite Tom Ford cologne as the finishing touch.
When I’m done, it’s only five thirty p.m., so I use the spare time to catch up on my texts. There are a few from my colleagues, and the rest are from Aaron.
Aaron
How was the flight?
I hope you and Isabelle are getting some good alone time together ;)
I’m assuming you are since you aren’t replying to me
Also, I just searched Google Maps, and there’s a pharmacy opposite your hotel. Just letting you know in case you forgot to bring protection
Helloooo? Are you still alive?
Press 1 if you need help
By the way, what time are the award winners being announced?
I’m being ignored :(
I shoot him a reply that I’m about to head to the event and put my phone away.
The theme of tonight’s event is magical wonderland, and I wonder what dress Isabelle will be wearing tonight. The last time I saw her at a formal event like this was spring formal. Eight years ago.
She danced with Oliver in a blue halter-neck dress, her arms looped around his neck. My muscles twitch as I recall the memory.
“Dude, you’ve been staring at Isabelle for the past five minutes,” Aaron said.
“I’m not staring,” I corrected. “I’m just thinking about how I’m going to beat her at tomorrow’s science test.”
Aaron shook his head. “One day, you’ll realize the truth.”
“There’s nothing to realize,” I grunted. “The simple truth is that Isabella and I can’t stand each other.”
Several minutes later, Isabelle walked past me, a scowl overtaking her face.
“You’re a terrible dancer, Isabella,” I said.
“You’re one to talk,” she retorted. “I haven’t even seen you on the dance floor.”
Before I could reply, Oliver walked over and placed an arm around her waist. “Come on, Izzy. Let’s go.”
I couldn’t stop staring at them as he led her away. I was definitely going to beat Isabelle at the science test tomorrow.
My phone dings with a new text, and I blink.
Fuck. Do I really have feelings for Isabelle? Is that why I always hated seeing her with Oliver back in high school?
I reach for my phone.
Victor
Hey, Jackson. Good luck tonight.
I hesitate for a moment before calling him. I always appreciate Victor’s advice, and I could use some of it right now.
Victor picks up quickly, his cheery voice ringing out. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Hey, Victor. Can I ask you something?”
“Absolutely.”
I plop down on the edge of the bed. “This might be a silly question, but how did you know you were falling for my sister?”
There’s a pause before he responds, “Well, we had our first date, and as cheesy as it sounds, I saw her, and it felt like time stopped. I still remember the exact outfit she wore, even though it was eleven years ago now. Anyway, I found out she’d just gotten a bad grade on a test she’d studied really hard for, and all I wanted to do was be there for her and cheer her up, not only that day, but every day.
Like I’d do anything to see her smile and be happy.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was on my mind all the time. ”
“Wow,” I breathe. I’ve never doubted the love he has for my sister, but it still feels heartwarming to hear that from him. “That’s … incredible.”
Victor chuckles. “I assume you’re asking because of someone?”
“Yeah,” I admit, raking a hand through my hair.
“There’s someone who’s been on my mind a lot.
” I swallow. “Do you know Sparkes Magazine? She’s a huge fan, and I made it my life’s mission to track down a contact there, as hard as that was.
I … I’ve never done something like that for a girl before.
And I think I relate to what you were saying about wanting to do anything to see her happy.
I think about her all the time, even when I don’t want to, but I don’t know if all that means anything more. ”
“I think you’ve answered your own question, Jackson.”
I sigh. “Maybe.”
“She sounds really special to you,” Victor continues. “And I think that’s important. I’d say to be honest with your feelings, but also let things unfold as they’re meant to.”
“Will do. Thanks for the chat, Victor.”
“Anytime.”
I hang up, realization crashing on me that Isabelle means more to me than what I’ve admitted to myself. There’s no time to dwell on it, though, because I’m supposed to meet her now. I do a final quick check of myself in the mirror, then head out to the elevators.
Isabelle’s not here yet, so I respond to a new text from Lucy, who’s also wishing me good luck tonight.
“Hey.”
Placing my phone away, I turn around to see Isabelle walk toward me, a shy smile on her face.
The moment my eyes land on her, my mouth turns dry, and it’s as if the world temporarily comes to a halt, everything else around me blurring into the background.
There are many adjectives one can use when describing something that is astonishing, like a beautiful painting or scenery.
The word breathtaking is an interesting one because it implies that something’s so amazing or beautiful that it could render you out of breath—something I always considered an exaggeration at best.
But as I stare at Isabelle, entranced, I instantly understand what it means to feel like your breath is being taken away.
She’s wearing that lilac dress she showed me at her apartment. The one she designed for her fashion show.
The material flows to the floor like a waterfall of tulle, and the sweetheart neckline reveals the slightest glimpse of her cleavage. Her hair’s curled into soft waves, and the dangly gold earrings she’s wearing catch the light with every movement.
I’m aching with the need to kiss her again, to pull her into my arms. I don’t even know how I went from wanting to only beat her at everything in high school to craving more time with her eight years later and not being able to get her out of my mind, but all I know is that she’s my dream woman, and—
Fuck.
My eyes widen at what I’ve just admitted to myself.
Isabelle’s my dream woman.