Chapter Two JACKIE #2
The loud knock on the door frame makes me jump.
It’s only Joseph, but my nerves are a live wire.
He looks haggard but is still carrying himself with his usual swagger.
Robertson’s been a steady ally ever since I covered for Carter last year, and stayed when my brother stepped down and handed me the reins of the company.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t find you here,” he says, crossing his arms.
“Nobody will scare me out of my own office.”
The old man huffs. “I bet Carter is especially happy about it.”
“I think Eliza is forcing him to keep his mouth shut,” I say, half amused.
She’s gone from being his landlord at the lake cabin to being the anchor he didn’t know he needed.
He’s a better man with her by his side, and our entire family is lighter for it.
I adore her for the way she loves him. “But the overbearing security team and Logan’s constant hovering speak louder than words. ”
“Nobody has answers yet,” Joseph says, glancing over his shoulder. “We can’t be vigilant enough.” Then an unexpected grin breaks out across his face. “At least right now, I can tell you you’re in for a good surprise for a change.”
Before I can ask him what he means, he steps aside, and a redheaded tornado barrels toward me, arms out. Eliza nearly lifts me off the ground, crushing me in the most comforting of hugs.
“They wouldn’t let me come earlier,” Eliza says into my hair, squeezing tighter before she grabs my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length to inspect me.
She’s radiant. Her light shines so bright it warms everything around her, and I’ve never been more grateful that the universe brought her to us.
“Everything’s fine now,” I tell her. “See, I’m in one piece.”
My hand glides over hers, and my fingers snag on something solid. My breath hitches.
I’d recognize that ring anywhere. The ruby and diamonds sparkling on my mother’s finger until my father’s funeral.
I blink, already tearing up. “Tell me this is what I think it is.” Eliza becomes a fuzzy blur of happiness.
“Well, this isn’t how we wanted to tell you.” Her grip on my fingers tightens, and she presses her lips together, taking me in with a hint of caution.
I sniff and attempt to hold myself together. “This is the best news you could give me!” The huge smile is starting to hurt, but I’m incapable of dialing it down.
“Your mom kind of knows already,” Eliza says, laughing. “Otherwise, you’d have been the first to know.”
“Well, obviously. I don’t see Carter sneakily breaking into my mom’s jewelry box.” I gasp. “The old minx. She didn’t even flinch when I was babbling about how long it would take my brother to pop the question.”
We’re beaming at each other, crying, holding hands, when Joseph’s baritone brings us back to reality. “This deserves a celebration.”
Eliza hesitates. “Oh. It’s alright. You have more important—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut in, laughing through the happy tears. “I’ve got it covered.”
For the first time all week, my lungs loosen. I let myself feel something other than panic and guilt. I hold on to the joy for a moment longer, until it settles in my chest.
Diane Cox scans her notes one last time before her producer gives us the signal that we’re live.
Interviews don’t usually rattle me, but Diane’s different.
She’s an investigative reporter with the nose of a bloodhound and a surgeon’s precision.
Her sit-downs are ruthless, and I know better than to expect her to go easy on me.
The studio lights burn hotter today, but I do my best not to fidget, especially when her stare cuts through me.
“You’re the first woman to run one of the Big Five tech companies in the country,” she starts off casually. “How do you feel you’ve adjusted to the role after your brother handed you the position?”
Straight in for the kill.
“Thanks for the question, Diane. I love how you phrased that.”
She doesn’t flinch at the sarcasm.
“I was raised in the hallways of Rawlings Enterprise.” It might be a slight reinterpretation of history.
It was more me sneaking in and roaming the hallways, until my dad eventually relented.
Not that he gave a damn about what I was doing or my ideas.
“I worked my way up alongside brilliant people who shared my family’s vision for the future of this company. ”
The gossip and murmurs on the floor eventually fizzled out after the first year. The sidelong glances in the elevators, the whispers about my place in the company… I kept my head down and outworked every whisper.
“No one knows this company inside out the way I do. So, to answer your question, Diane, it feels like coming home. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
She tilts her head. “You’ve been dubbed Tech Barbie. What’s your take on that?”
Of course. That asshole reporter, Fred Pierson, called me that once. It stuck. I’m one of the youngest CEOs in tech, and for the past year, I’ve been in a constant PR battle against the assumption that I’m just a pretty placeholder.
“Barbie’s an icon for millions of girls worldwide. I don’t mind being placed in her company,” I say smoothly. “She can be anything she wants. And if I can inspire even one person to pursue their passion, I’d call that a win.”
Diane holds my gaze for a beat. She is clearly not satisfied with that and continues to needle me for a reaction. “I think it’s more about your looks,” she says, setting the bait, but I don’t take it. I know better, and it’s getting old already.
You are too pretty to be so aggressive. Or I’m impressed. You think like a man.
“I have no more control over my genes than you do.” I shoot her a meaningful look.
She used to be a game show model before clawing her way to the top.
But her looks didn’t hold her back. “They can call me whatever they want,” I continue with a smile.
“We’re still the biggest tech company in the country. ”
“Speaking of your competitors,” Diane says, shifting gears, “the recent attack on Rawlings Enterprise has drawn concern from industry leaders. One of them is here with us tonight to share his view on the larger implications.”
Her apparent concern doesn’t fool me. I see where this is going.
Diane gestures with her pen, turning to the camera. “We have UniCore’s CEO with us, Mr. Charles Gordon. Good evening, sir.”
His Botox-fixed sour mug pops into half of the preview screen. Looks like his latest trip to the hair clinic paid off. This time, it could pass for something real, not some roadkill he glued on.
Of course they’d bring him in. He’s been chasing our shadow for years, furious that even after Dad died, he couldn’t beat Carter. Now that I’ve taken over, it’s driving him mad that we’re still ahead.
Near the cameraman, a silhouette shifts. Michelle is hidden in the darkness, behind the blinding set light, but I bet she’s wringing her hands.
“Thank you for having me, Diane,” Gordon says gravely.
“I want to start by expressing my deepest sympathy for what happened at your offices, Miss Rawlings.” He’s careful to stress the word.
“It’s terrible. But maybe this is a moment to reflect.
Perhaps somebody with more experience should step in.
There’s no shame in admitting you’re out of your depth.
” He shakes his head slightly. “We need answers. Why was your company targeted, and you specifically?”
Oh right, the “bitch” message smeared across my building with red paint. That certainly got everybody’s attention.
“It’s critical you share with us all the details of the investigation, and the projects that might have made your company a target.”
His desperation would be funny if I weren’t boiling with rage inside.
The bastard is still mad over the NextGen deal, which, I’ll reluctantly admit, wouldn’t have happened without Adam’s help. We snatched the start-up from under Gordon’s nose. He was sure it would give UniCore the lead.
“At least Carter had more experience and authority,” Gordon adds, with an air of finality.
At least he’s a man, is what he means.
My brother, the golden child. My dad’s heir. Because that’s what it was. He didn’t love Carter more. But my brother had a purpose. Dad had a clear path for him, and Carter bled himself dry to follow it.
Sitting taller in my chair, I offer him my most diplomatic smile. “I appreciate your concern, Charles.” His nostrils flare at the casual tone. “The authorities and our security team are working relentlessly on the case. There’s no signal that other companies will—”
“Let me explain it to you, sweetheart,” he cuts me off, lip curling. “The people who work for you deserve—”
“I appreciate your concern for my team.” My voice is ice cold. “But perhaps you should channel that energy into fixing the unreported safety issues at your factories.”
Gordon stumbles over his words. “Th-there were no official complaints.”
“Understandable,” I say, a frostbitten calm keeping my tone in check. “Considering the fifty-plus settlements you pushed out of court. All sealed tightly with NDAs.”
I let this settle, the silence on set electric.
It gives me particular pleasure to pull out the next nugget I’ve been saving for a special occasion just like this one.
“And since we’re on the topic of NDAs,” I add, “maybe you can share with us the high standards you hold for your assistants. All young women under thirty, all leaving after just a few months. You must be… a hard boss to please, Charles.”
He’s turning red.
“OK,” Diane interjects quickly, “let’s keep this civil. No need for accusations.”
The crass double standard doesn’t faze me as much as it used to. I’m disappointed when a professional of Diane’s caliber plays along. The pressure to be flawless is nerve-wracking. Every other man gets to fling his dick around, and I can’t miss a step, or my credibility flies out the window.
“This kind of emotional outburst is exactly why the shareholders don’t trust you, Miss Rawlings,” Gordon snaps. “If I were you, I’d start counting my days.”
Rage boils in my chest. This obsolete, shriveled raisin didn’t just threaten me. “If you think—”
“That’s all the time we have.” Diane cuts in sharply, and I don’t think I do an exceptionally good job at hiding the daggers shooting her way. “Thank you both.”
The lights dim, and somebody calls, “And we’re out.”
The moment I don’t have to watch every word that comes out of my mouth, my legs start trembling. I’m shaking so hard, my heels tap against the floor.
Diane turns toward me with a professional smile, holding out her hand. “Pleasure having you on the show.”
“Do you feel good about that?” I make no move to shake her hand, and Michelle materializes next to me, looking ready to jump in and defuse the tension.
“Don’t take it personally,” Diane says casually. “I’m just doing my job.”
Oh. I am taking this so fucking personally.
The smell of wood polish loosens every knot in my shoulders the moment I step inside. This brownstone has always been my favorite property in the family portfolio. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of living here, away from the tension at home. With a life that was finally mine.
And now, here I am.
Friday night, 8pm. Raiding the pantry of this spectacular Gilded Age home and getting all the sweet and salty treats I promised myself.
No healthy food for me tonight.
I usually love cooking and trying out new recipes, but this week I couldn’t bring myself to touch a pan. Or even order takeout. The only reason I didn’t starve was Mom. Like Carter, she stress-cooks when things get hard.
The smart home’s speaker system fills the rooms with the “Penny Lane” ringtone that never ceases to make me smile.
“Hello, Mr. Errington, isn’t it a bit late on your side of the pond? Must be past midnight over there,” I say as I cross the hallway with my loot.
My former boss and mentor’s warm British accent rings out clearly as I reach the media room. “Eh, at my age, sleep is a privilege.”
“It’s cute you’re fishing for compliments.”
He chuckles. “How are you, truly? Still don’t want to come back to London?”
Talking with Cecil always makes me miss those years in England, in that gorgeous office overlooking the Thames. He encouraged me. Listened to me. Never once treated me like an airhead nuisance. His fatherly care wrapped around me like a weighted blanket.
When I left New York, I was heartbroken and directionless, but Cecil took me under his wing, and I finally found my place in the world.
If Dad hadn’t died, maybe I’d still be there.
“Don’t tell me you also think I can’t handle what happened last week.”
“Oh, no, my dear. I know you’re capable. We’re all just worried and want you to be safe.” He pauses. “Will’s been pestering me to send the jet and bring you back. Which isn’t one of his worst ideas. You two always made a great team.”
My cheeks flush. He doesn’t miss a trick.
His son and I were probably not as discreet as we thought, during those months when the lines blurred, and we became more than colleagues.
It was meant to be a fling with no expectations.
I thought I couldn’t give a man more than that, after everything that happened with Adam…
I shove the thought aside and focus back on the call.
“I miss you all too,” I say gently. “But I’m not abandoning my company over some empty threats.”
“That explosion looked more than just threats…”
“Mostly smoke, nothing serious. The FBI and my team are on it. We’ll be fine.”
“Still stubborn as ever,” he says with affection.
Takes one to know one. I’ve seen the man stall a parliamentary address just because his speech wasn’t formatted up to his standards.
“I know you don’t like surprises, so heads up, Will is flying to New York next week. He has some meetings, but I have the feeling he wants to have a cuppa with you.”
The laugh fizzles in my throat as I imagine what that would look like. The heat creeps back across my chest. “How wonderful,” I croak. “Can’t wait.”
“I hope you know you’ll always have a place with us, my dear. Call you soon.”
Cecil’s brand of paternal affection always manages to choke me up a bit.
Three years in London, and my mom called constantly.
But Dad? I had to chase him for every half-hearted conversation.
I was trying to tell him how well I was doing, everything I’d learned, but he acted like my career was a phase I’d get over at some point.
I sink into the plush armchair, the remote dangling between my fingers, the room dark around me. Will is coming to New York. I’m caught between a flicker of excitement and the uneasy sense that falling back into old habits would be a mistake.
But he’s the type of man I never had to worry about. Serious and reliable. Never made me question where I stood or if I could trust him.
Shouldn’t that be enough?