Chapter 7
SEVEN
Madeline
Whatever game Jesse is playing, I’m not going to let it get in the way of doing my job.
I’m determined to make a good first impression on my new co-workers, so when Becca from the design team asks me to sit in on a concept review meeting for the spring campaign, I jump at the chance.
This will give me a glimpse into how Cove’s marketing magic actually happens.
I can use the time to get my bearings and prove to myself that I won’t allow Jesse Winters to rattle me.
The shared workspace is already buzzing when I get there.
Becca, a Black woman who looks to be in her forties, waves me over to the long table by the windows, which is covered in product mock-ups and color samples.
“We’re reviewing the ad copy,” she says, scooting her chair to make room. “Jesse should be here any minute.”
I nod, pretending that doesn’t send my pulse sprinting, and start unpacking my laptop.
Becca gestures toward the others around the table as she shuffles through a stack of mock-ups. “Madeline, this is Marco—our numbers guy and resident espresso snob—and that’s Tasha from copy. Guys, meet Madeline.”
Marco looks up from his tablet and grins. “Welcome to the madness. Don’t let Becca fool you, she’s the glue who keeps this whole team together.”
Becca rolls her eyes. “I just try to keep everyone from turning the campaign calendar into a nightmare. ‘Try’ being the key word. Marco just exaggerates.”
“Me? Exaggerate? Never.” Marco says feigning offence.
Tasha waves from across the table, her messy bun barely hanging on. “Ignore them both. They occasionally squabble like an old married couple, but they’re basically best friends. They finish each other’s sentences. It’s like they share the same brain.”
I smile, already liking them. The vibe is easy and familiar, the kind of office energy that makes you want to be a part of it.
I notice their eyes shift to the space behind me and I stiffen slightly, knowing exactly what—or who—they’re looking at.
Jesse moves through the room with the kind of easy confidence that draws attention without even trying.
His polo shirt fits him like it was tailored to him, the material stretching perfectly across his shoulders, sleeves hugging the curve of his biceps.
When he sets his laptop on the table, the muscles in his forearm flex, strong and smooth.
It’s the kind of detail I wish I hadn’t noticed but it would be impossible not to.
It’s…obscene, to put it mildly. Whoever decided it was acceptable for him to show up to work looking like this clearly doesn’t value productivity.
“Hi everyone,” Jesse says, sitting across from me, his voice warm and smooth.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Becca says, handing him a folder. She launches into her presentation, highlighting the new imagery and taglines, and I try to focus—really try—but every time Jesse speaks or leans in to look closer at the mock-ups, the air around us seems to tighten just a little.
Once the meeting wraps up, Becca and Marco gather their notes. “We’ll get started on the changes,” Becca says as they head for the door. Tasha grabs her empty coffee mug, and suddenly the table that felt crowded and buzzing with conversation a moment ago is silent.
I was asked to finish some edits on the campaign brief before Ford reviews it tomorrow, so I stay where I am, plugging in my laptop and opening the document.
When Jesse doesn’t move, I pretend not to notice, reminding myself that I’m not about to let a little weirdness get in the way of doing my job.
“I hope you don’t mind me working here with you,” he says finally, his voice even, gaze fixed on the screen in front of him. “I don’t want to get in your way.”
“It’s not a problem,” I manage, surprised at how steady I sound considering the way my pulse is racing now that we’re alone at the table. “It’s fine by me, as long as it’s okay with you.”
My reply comes out professional and polite, but there’s a slight chill in my tone and I can see that he picks up on it. I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth lifts, slow and knowing, like he’s trying not to give too much away.
He remembers me. I don’t know how I can be so sure about it, but I am. Whatever this is—acting like he doesn’t recognize me, like our paths never crossed before today—it’s all an act. I just can’t figure out why.
What I do know is that Jesse is good at pretending.
I saw firsthand last week how good he can be at putting on a show.
And I hate that it bothers me as much as it does.
Maybe it’s because no matter how hard I try, the memory of him leaning into me, smiling like he was actually interested in me, won’t fade.
The truth is, he had more of an effect on me than I did on him.
To him, I was a moment. A blip. Just a woman he talked to before the next one came along.
I, on the other hand, haven’t been able to get him out of my head since that night.
“Absolutely.” He glances at his phone before setting it down. “Wouldn’t dream of getting in your way.”
My fingers tighten around the pen I’m holding. “Good,” I say, a little sharper than I mean to. “I need to finish this for tomorrow.”
He glances up at that, brows lifting slightly. “Noted,” he says, quieter now, like he’s testing the temperature of my mood. “My next call got canceled, so I figure I might as well catch up on a few things while I’ve got a quiet moment.”
I nod, pretending to focus on my laptop. “Sounds like you don’t get many of those. Quiet moments, I mean.”
He laughs. “They are rare. Cove’s gotten bigger than any of us expected. Half my day is spent putting out fires that didn’t exist five minutes ago.”
“Well,” I say, keeping my tone even, “it’s impressive. You’ve built something massive. Cove is everywhere. It seems like it’s taken over the world.”
His mouth curves, slow and sure. “Not the entire world,” he says, his tone half-joking.
“Got it. Ambitious.”
“Comes with the territory,” he says, leaning back, stretching an arm along the back of the empty chair beside him.
I nod, and a beat of silence extends between us. I clear my throat, just to break it. “I should get back to work.”
“Of course,” he says easily.
I force my attention on my laptop, but the quiet stretches thin between us. The air feels charged. It’s ridiculous, the way my body reacts, the way the silence in the room feels heavier with him sitting across from me.
He’s not really working—I can feel it. The clicking of his keyboard is too broken, and I can feel his eyes on me without even looking up.
I don’t know what his deal is—why he’s pretending not to remember me, if he’s just trying to get in my head.
It’s unnerving, but I’m not about to ask him.
I just want him to stand up, walk away, and vanish into one of his million meetings so I can breathe again.
No such luck.
The tension finally breaks when a voice calls out from the doorway.
“Winters.”
Jesse’s head lifts, and I glance up to see a man walking casually into the room.
He’s tall—taller than Jesse but otherwise he looks so much like him.
He has that same easy confidence, but with a quieter kind of energy.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal Henley, the faintest trace of dark stubble shadowing his jaw.
“Wes,” Jesse says, surprise flickering across his face. “Didn’t know you were coming by.”
“Yeah, well.” Wes’s grin is pure mischief. “You stopped answering my texts, so I figured I’d stop in and make sure you’re still alive. Noah mentioned you’ve been having some late nights at the house.”
I push away the question that immediately pops into my mind—late nights doing what, exactly?—and keep my attention fixed on the screen in front of me.
Jesse exhales a laugh, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “Yup, still kicking. And I’m actually working at the moment,” he adds, gesturing to the laptop in front of him.
“Are you?” Wes asks, eyes darting to me for the first time. “Because it kind of looks like you’re sitting around getting to know the new girl.”
My fingers freeze on the keyboard, and I glance up just in time to see Jesse give his brother a warning look, that kind of easy irritation that only siblings can pull off. “Wes, this is Madeline,” he says without looking at me. “She started today.”
“Madeline.” Wes nods, his grin widening a fraction as he steps forward to shake my hand. “Welcome to Cove. I’m Wes. I’m the brother that doesn’t actually work here, but I do consult when they need me. I do my best to stay out of boardrooms.”
I huff out a nervous laugh. “Wes…I believe you’re the brother who flies, correct?”
He seems surprised, then smiles. “Yeah, that would be me. I used to fly commercial, but I got tired of being gone half the year. Now I handle private charters and scenic tours up and down the coast. Any excuse to stay in the air.”
“That sounds incredible, seeing the world from that perspective. It must feel like an adventure every day.”
“Please don’t encourage him,” Jesse mutters, pushing back from the table. “Next thing you know he’ll be talking about some pod of Orcas he saw, and you won’t be able to shut him up.”
He looks to Wes. “So, are you just here to distract me or what?”
Wes’s attention flicks from me back to his brother, and there’s something sly in his expression, a spark of curiosity that makes the back of my neck warm.
“Yes, but I also wanted to drop off some notes from that campaign review last week. Let me know if you have questions.” He sets a folder on the table, right in front of Jesse, and then grins at me.
“Nice to meet you, Madeline. And good luck working with this guy.”
“Thanks,” I say, smiling before I can stop myself.
Jesse groans, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not helping, Wes. Don’t feel like you need to stick around.”
“Didn’t come here to help,” Wes replies with a wink, backing toward the door. “Came here to entertain myself. Mission accomplished.”
He disappears down the hall, silence sliding back in to take his place.
Jesse lets out a quiet laugh, half under his breath. “Sorry about him. He likes to test boundaries.”
“I noticed. You should probably get back to work before he decides to come back and check on you,” I tell him as I force my attention back to the document in front of me.
Jesse smiles faintly, that same curve of his mouth that started this whole mess at the brewery. “Got it,” he says, but he doesn’t move.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room is the hum of the lights and the muted click of my trackpad. Then, softly, almost like he’s thinking out loud, he says, “You really didn’t think I’d forgotten you, did you?”
I freeze.
Slowly, I lift my gaze, eyes narrowing in his direction. “So, you do remember me.”
He leans back in his chair, arms folding loosely across his chest with that infuriating mix of calm and confidence. “You’re pretty hard to forget. What was it you said again? I should try to focus on one woman at a time, was that it?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I thought you could use the tip since you were doing a pretty bad job of it,” I mutter.
He chuckles under his breath, eyes still locked on me. “So let me make it up to you.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
He tilts his head, that infuriating smile still playing at his mouth. “Let’s try this again. A fresh start.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do,” he says easily, voice dropping just enough to make my pulse misbehave. “I can prove to you that I’m not the guy you think I am.”
“No, you can’t,” I say, snapping my laptop shut and gathering my things. Is he serious? Is he asking me out on my first day on the job? He can’t possibly think I’d actually say yes.
“Why not?” he asks, sounding curious.
I hug my notebook and laptop to my chest, pulse thrumming, “One,” I say, keeping my voice level. “As of today, I work for you and your family. That would be about as unprofessional as it gets.”
He lifts a brow, looking amused. “Okay, that’s one. Is there a two?”
“And two,” I add, eyes flicking briefly to his, “I’ve got enough going on in my life. I don’t need another complication.”
He considers me for a moment, head cocked to one side. “Fair enough,” he says quietly, and that damn grin is back. “You don’t want to go out with me. Got it. But what if I prove it to you anyway?”
I sling my bag over my shoulder, eager for some much-needed space from him. “Then you’ll find out that I’m a hard person to convince.”
His grin deepens and I see too late that he’s taking that as a challenge. “I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me then.”
I turn and walk away before he can say anything else and pretend that I don’t feel his gaze follow me out of the room.