Chapter 27
JUNO
Isat in one of the leather chairs across from my father’s desk, my phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline. Any minute now. Hollis was supposed to post the commercial any minute.
“You seem nervous,” Dad said, looking up from his computer screen.
“I’m not nervous.” Lie. I forced myself to set the phone down on my lap instead of refreshing Instagram for the hundredth time.
Hollis had told me it was awesome but refused to send me a teaser.
“This is a big moment for the partnership.”
“Do you think it’ll drive sales?” He leaned back in his chair, giving me his full attention, genuinely interested in my professional opinion, not just making small talk. I liked these conversations with my father. It gave me a chance to prove my business skills.
I considered the question carefully, running through all the data points I’d gathered over the past few weeks.
“Yes. I do. Hollis has built a substantial following online. His engagement rates are impressive. People actually interact with his content, not just scroll past it. He doesn’t even have to pay for ads.
He just has to post and he gets a ton of reposts and comments.
And now with Jack Montana attached, I know it’s going to perform well. ”
“Good.” Dad nodded, satisfied. “And what about Hollis himself? Does he have your stamp of approval to continue working with Young at Heart?”
The question should have been simple. A straightforward yes or no based on business metrics and professional assessment. But my mind immediately went to Hollis on his knees with his magic tongue. And the way he could make me laugh even when I was trying to stay mad at him.
Was I basing my decision on personal feelings?
I took a breath and forced myself to think objectively. Strip away the attraction, the incredible sex, the way my heart did that stupid flutter thing when he texted me. What was left?
A good businessman who’d built something from nothing. A quality product that actually delivered on its promises. Decent brand recognition with room to grow. A work ethic that matched my own. Someone who genuinely cared about helping people, not just making money.
He was perfect in more ways than one.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “He has my approval. His business model is sound, his product is legitimate, and I think he has the drive to see this through. He’s got a lot more ideas. He’s a good fit for us. Once he gets this product launched, he can expand. That’s what we would be helping with.”
Dad smiled, that proud expression that still made me feel like I was ten years old showing him a perfect report card.
“I’m glad to hear you say that. I’ve been thinking.
Once this shake business is on track and running smoothly, Hollis might be able to help me on another project I’ve been considering. ”
Before I could ask what project, my phone lit up with a notification. My heart jumped.
“It’s live,” I said, already pulling up Instagram.
Dad wheeled his chair around his desk so he could see my screen. We both leaned in, watching the video load.
The screen filled with Jack Montana’s face, all chiseled features and movie-star charisma.
The production quality was incredible. Micah had outdone himself.
The lighting made Jack look even more godlike than usual, if that was possible.
He delivered his lines with perfect timing, took a drink of B Well Balance, and sold the hell out of it.
The B Well logo faded in, clean and professional, with a link to the B Well online store.
“Damn,” I whispered. “That’s good.”
“Very good,” Dad agreed. “Professional. Polished. That’s exactly the kind of content we want associated with our brand.”
“I can’t begin to imagine what that would have cost if we had to pay for that commercial.”
Dad chuckled. “It pays to have friends in high places.”
“Brothers,” I corrected. “That’s the other thing about Hollis. He’s got an army of powerful, influential people standing behind him.”
I scrolled down to check the engagement. The video had been live for less than two minutes and already had thousands of views. Comments were flooding in.
“OMG JACK MONTANA”
“I’m buying this right now”
“Hollis Blackwell really got Jack Montana for a commercial??”
The views kept climbing as we watched. Five thousand. Ten thousand. The engagement was insane.
“This is going to be huge,” I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. “Look at these comments. People are already saying they’re buying it.”
“Let’s see if the numbers back that up,” Dad said, ever the pragmatist.
My phone buzzed with a text. I pulled it up, grinning when I saw Hollis’s name.
It was a screenshot of his website traffic chart.
I showed Dad the screen. “Look at that spike.”
“Impressive,” he said, and I could hear the genuine approval in his voice. “Very impressive.”
I pulled up the video again.
“Two hundred thousand,” I said, my heart racing. “Oh my God.”
The numbers kept climbing. Not even one at a time. It was thousands.
“This is insane,” I breathed. “I’ve never seen anything move this fast.”
450K.
My phone rang. I answered immediately. “Hollis?”
“Are you seeing this?” His voice was breathless, excited, almost disbelieving. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I’m seeing it. We’re both seeing it. My dad’s right here.”
“Tell him thank you,” Hollis said. “Tell him this wouldn’t be happening without Young at Heart’s support.”
I looked at my father, who was smiling. “He says thank you.”
“Tell him he’s welcome. And tell him congratulations.”
“Five hundred thousand,” I said into the phone. “Hollis, you just hit five hundred thousand more sales.”
This was business. Professional. But seeing someone work this hard and have it pay off? It meant something. I wanted to celebrate with him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft. “For believing in me. Even after you thought I was just some cocky asshole.”
I laughed. “You’re still a cocky asshole.”
“But my sales numbers don’t lie. Time to get that bottling plant ready for the first run. We have a lot of orders to fill.”
He laughed and hung up. I set my phone down and looked at my father, who was watching me with an expression I refused to acknowledge.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” But he was smiling. “You did good work here, Juno.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And for what it’s worth, I think Hollis Blackwell is going to be a very valuable partner for Young at Heart. In more ways than one.”
I felt my cheeks heat, wondering exactly how much my father had picked up on. But he just rolled his chair back around to his side of the desk and focused on his screen. I imagined he saw dollar signs.
We all were.
My phone buzzed with a text from Hollis.
600K. I think I’m going to pass out.
I grinned and typed back: Don’t pass out. You have orders to fill.
I sent Hollis another text: Come to the office. Now. It’s celebration time.
His response came back almost immediately: On my way.
I stood up from my father’s desk, already pulling out my phone to text Kari. “I’m going to set up a little celebration in the conference room. This deserves champagne at minimum.”
“Good idea,” Dad said, not looking up from his computer where he was probably already calculating profit margins. “Make sure accounting knows to expense it.”
I laughed. “Will do.”
I found Kari at her desk and gave her the rundown.
Within twenty minutes, she’d worked her magic—champagne on ice, catering ordered from the Mexican place down the street, and she recruited a couple of the other assistants to transform the conference room into an impromptu party space. The woman was a wizard.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I told her as I surveyed the spread.
“I know.” She grinned. “Maybe I should have been a party planner.”
“No way. You are not leaving me. I do need to check a few things. Hollis should be arriving soon.”
“Food will be here within thirty,” she said. “And then we’re all eating tacos. Health food be damned.”
“Trust me, I’ll be back.” I responded to some emails and dealt with my normal workload, but I couldn’t suppress the giddiness I felt.
By the time I made it back to the conference room, Hollis had arrived.
He stood near the windows, looking out at the city, his hands shoved in his pockets.
He was in jeans and a fitted button-down that made his shoulders look even broader than usual.
His hair was slightly damp, like he’d showered before coming over.
I liked that he took the time to “dress up” because I would have bet money he’d been in those sexy gray sweats and a tee.
“Hey,” I said, walking up beside him.
He turned, and that smile spread across his face. “Hey yourself.”
“Six hundred thousand sales in less than an hour. That’s insane.”
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, still looking slightly shell-shocked. “My website crashed twice from the traffic. Toby’s been fielding messages all afternoon. This is wild.”
“This is huge, Hollis. You should be proud.”
“I am.” He looked at me. How was it I already knew him well enough to know he wanted to kiss me. Or maybe I was projecting. “But to fill all those orders, I can’t do it without you. Without Young at Heart.”
“You did your part,” I said. “Now we’ll do ours.”
“You took a chance on me when you had every reason not to. I appreciate the hell out of that.”
I felt my cheeks warm. “Well, you made it easy once you stopped being such a cocky asshole.”
“I’m still a cocky asshole. You just like me now.”
“Unfortunately.”
He laughed and I wanted to grab him, take him to my office, and have my way with him.
The door opened and several Young at Heart employees filed in, drawn by the promise of free food and champagne. Kari had clearly spread the word. Within minutes, the conference room was buzzing with conversation and congratulations.
I grabbed two champagne flutes and handed one to Hollis. “To B Well Balance,” I said, raising my glass.
“To partnerships,” he countered, clinking his glass against mine.
We drank, and I watched him over the rim of my glass.
He was working the room now, shaking hands and thanking people who’d had absolutely nothing to do with his success but were happy to bask in the reflected glory anyway.
He was good at charming people. He’d mastered the art of being confident and people genuinely liked him.
I liked him.
God, when had that happened? When had Hollis Blackwell gone from the bane of my existence to someone I actually looked forward to seeing?
“You’re staring,” Kari said, appearing at my elbow with her own champagne.
“I’m observing,” I corrected.
“Uh-huh.” She took a sip, her eyes dancing with amusement. “So when are you going to tell me what’s really going on between you two?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
“Juno.”
“Fine. Something might be going on. Maybe. It’s complicated. I will not confirm or deny anything.”
“It’s always complicated with you.” She bumped my shoulder with hers. “But for what it’s worth, I think he’s good for you. You seem happier lately. Less wound up.”
“I think that might have been an insult.”
She just laughed and walked away, leaving me to contemplate the comment.
The catering team filled the space with the scent of cilantro, citrus, and spice.
My stomach growled. People descended on it like locusts, filling plates and settling into chairs around the long table.
Hollis ended up beside me, his thigh pressing against mine under the table in a way that was definitely intentional.
“This is nice,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. “Thanks for setting it up.”
“It was a team effort. Kari did most of the work.”
“Still. It means a lot.” His hand found mine under the table, fingers lacing together for just a second.
I should have pulled away. We were in my office, surrounded by my colleagues, celebrating a business partnership. This was exactly the kind of thing we shouldn’t do.
But I didn’t pull away. I squeezed his hand instead, just once, before letting go.
The party continued for another hour. More champagne flowed, more congratulations were exchanged, more toasts were made to B Well’s success and the Young at Heart partnership. My father even made an appearance, shaking Hollis’s hand and offering his own congratulations.
“This is exactly the kind of success we like to see,” Dad said, clapping Hollis on the shoulder. “You’ve done impressive work, son.”
I watched Hollis’s face light up at the praise. It occurred to me that despite all his success, despite his family’s wealth and connections, he still craved validation. Still needed to hear that he’d done well and earned his place at the table.
It made him more human in my eyes. We were all human with our own self-doubt.
“Hollis,” Dad said after finishing his small meal. “Could I speak with you in my office for a moment?”
My stomach dropped.
Hollis glanced at me, and I saw the same wariness in his eyes that I felt. “Of course,” he said, setting down his champagne flute.
“In private,” Dad added, making it clear I wasn’t invited.
Oh shit.