Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JAXON/JAX
Now
The Art of Holding Back Everything That Matters
Every instinct in me wants to reach for her, which is exactly why I don’t.
Istep off the elevator, trying to focus on anything but Livianna. I round the corner, and there she is. Warmth spreads through my chest.
God, she’s beautiful.
She pulls her arm back and scratches her wrist with a kind of urgency and determination that makes my stomach fill with lead.
Fuck!
“Livianna, I was just thinking about you.” I rush to her side, willing her to stop gouging her skin with her fingernails.
She turns my way. “Oh, hi Jaxon. I was just… Why were you thinking about me?”
“I saw Cash pulling out of the parking lot. I figured that meant he was dropping you off.”
“Of course.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Why else would you be thinking about me?”
Because I love you and miss you more than I can bear.
“Is everything okay?” I gesture toward the door. “Do you need help with something?”
Her brow furrows, and she adjusts her bag over her shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“Did you help me with the deal I made with Marcus Chen?”
“When you asked, yes.”
She nods and glances at the entrance to her office. “I know what I’m doing, right?”
The insecurity in her voice tells me all I need to know. This isn’t the Livianna I’ve grown with over the past few years. This is a scared eighteen-year-old version of her who can’t connect her missing reality to now.
“Livianna, you know what you’re doing, but I get the sense you need someone to help you get through your first day back at work.”
Her head snaps my way. “What does that mean?”
“Follow me.” I take her hand and lead her into my office. “Let me place my briefcase down and clear a few things off my calendar.”
“And then what?” She follows behind me, but doesn’t release me.
“Then I’ll help you sort out your day.”
We pass Natalie’s office on the way down the hall. She lifts her head as we pass.
“Hi, Livianna. How are you?” Natalie stands and rushes toward us. “We’ve all been so worried since we heard about your accident. No one was allowed to visit you at the hospital. What was that all about?”
I drop Livianna’s hand and stop walking. “Natalie, Livianna is dealing with…”
Livianna steps toward Natalie. “Hi. I take it your name is Natalie.”
She freezes mid-stride. “Yes, but why are you…?”
She looks to me for an answer to her obvious question.
“Why am I acting like I don’t know you?” Livianna answers for herself. “We’ve kept this out of the press, so could you please play along?”
“What?” Natalie’s eyes flit between us. “What is this about?”
I wait for Livianna. This is her story to tell.
She fidgets with her bag. “I hit my head in the crash. The doctor said I have amnesia.”
“Amnesia?” Natalie’s expression softens. “What exactly does that mean?”
“I can’t remember anything from the time I…” Livianna glances toward the front, her shoulders tense. “Nobody can know. My father says it’s best this way.”
With her brows drawn, Natalie gazes at me. “How do you expect to—”
“I need you to rearrange my day.” I check the time on my watch. “There’s nothing too pressing.”
“But you’ve put these meetings off once already.” Natalie points to a stack of papers sitting on her desk. “And what about those?”
“Natalie, do what I ask. Tell them I’m dealing with unforeseen circumstances.” I start toward my private office space. “I’m going to help Livianna get organized.”
Natalie releases a disapproving sigh. “Jaxon, I don’t think we should put this off any longer.”
“That’s not what I asked.” I give her a pointed stare. “Now, if you’ll get back to work, I can help Livianna. And the faster I do that, the faster I’ll be able to take care of everything else.”
“Of course.” Natalie smiles at Livianna. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m sorry about your accident and your injuries. That must be extremely difficult.”
“It is, but everyone has been very helpful.” She faces me. “Jaxon, if this is too much trouble—”
“It’s not. I mentored you, and know how important this deal is for you and your company.” I lift my briefcase. “Give me one minute to put this down, then I’ll take you across the hallway and we can get you up to speed.”
“Please, take your time.” She wraps her arms around her waist.
I set my belongings down on my desk and shrug out of my suit jacket, draping it over the back of my chair. When I turn back to Livianna, she’s standing in the doorway, clutching her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“You can come in.” I gesture to the leather chairs across from my desk. “Make yourself comfortable while I make sure my calendar is cleared.”
She steps inside but doesn’t sit. Instead, she wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a park across the street, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass.
“I used to come here, didn’t I?” Her voice carries a wistfulness that guts me. “When we worked together.”
“You did.” I loosen my tie, needing to do something with my hands that isn’t pulling her into my arms. “You’d sit right there and go over your business plans with me.”
She glances at the chair, then back at me. “Did we get along, or did I get on your nerves?”
The question is a knife between my ribs. Did we get along?
We were sharing a life together. I was hoping we were going to build a future. Hell, we created a child, and she’s wondering if she bothered me.
“We got along very well.” I keep my tone neutral and professional. “You trusted me with your company’s trajectory, and a lot more.”
“More? Like what?”
“You name it, we’ve probably discussed it.”
“Then you must know why Callum and I weren’t together during that time.”
The air leaves my lungs. Why can’t I get it through my thick skull that she doesn’t want to remember us or what we shared? She wants to get on with her life with Cash.
“No, Livianna. We didn’t talk about personal issues like your ex-boyfriend.”
“You mean, my boyfriend.” She forces her chin up, telling me she’s about to get defiant.
I don’t want that. “Right, your boyfriend. I apologize.”
“Thank you.” She turns back to the window, and I catch her reflection in the glass. Her expression is lost. “Callum mentioned you helped fund his label.”
“I did.”
“So, you help a lot of people.” She faces me again. “Is that what you do? Find struggling artists and give them a leg up?”
“Not exactly.” I move around my desk and lean against the front of it, maintaining distance between us. “I invest in people I believe in. People who have vision and the drive to see it through.”
“And you believed in me?”
“I still do.” My heavy stare stays connected to hers. “You built something remarkable, Livianna. The amnesia doesn’t change that.”
Her sardonic laugh tumbles out of her mouth, her fingers finding her wrist again. I cross the space between us and gently catch her hand before she can scratch.
“Don’t.” My voice is quiet but firm. “Whatever you’re feeling right now, hurting yourself isn’t the answer.”
Her eyes widen, and for a moment, I think she sees me. Really sees me. But then she pulls her hand away, and the moment shatters.
“Sorry. Old habit, I guess.” She straightens her shoulders. “So, what do I need to know about this Marcus Chen deal?”
I think for a moment. How can I be helpful without her feeling inadequate about what she remembers?
“What would you like to know, Livianna?”
She takes a deep breath. “Everything.”
“There’s nothing you remember about Lehlani Rose Designs?”
“I know why I wanted my brand to be named after her, but that’s about it.”
“In that case, why don’t we go over to your design room and get you reacquainted with your process?”
She studies me for a beat. “Why are you helping me?”
I force down the words that want to come out. “I want you to succeed.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Why else would I be helping you?”
She shrugs, confusion swirling in her eyes. “Does my father have anything to do with it?”
“No. Nothing. I’ve already told you that.” I step closer to her, heat crawling up my chest. “My interest in you has nothing to do with your family.”
She blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Well then, Mr. Crowne, let’s get on with business.”
Business. That’s the last thing on my mind.
She’s placing her boundaries without saying the words, and I recognize that. She doesn’t want me putting innuendos out there for her to pick up on. I’m obviously making her uncomfortable.
“Please call me Jaxon.” I slip my hands into my pants pockets. “You never call me Mr. Crowne.”
“Okay, Jaxon it is.” She turns toward the door. “Are you sure you don’t mind getting me through the first part of my day?”
“Positive. Lead the way.”
She guides us across the hallway to her office suite. We make polite hellos with her office manager, then go back to her personal space.
The moment she steps through the door, something shifts in her posture. Her shoulders relax as she takes in the space—the design boards covering one wall, fabric swatches organized by color and texture, her drafting table positioned near the windows.
“This feels right.” She moseys toward the boards, her fingers hovering over sketches pinned in messy rows. “I hope I can remember how to do this.”
“Muscle memory. Your hands will remember even when your mind doesn’t.”
She faces me with the first genuine smile I’ve seen today. “That’s actually comforting.”
The smile guts me more than her questions about Cash. This is the Livianna I fell in love with—the one who lights up when talking about her work, who finds beauty in fabric and form.
“Show me what you’re working on for Marcus Chen.” I settle into the chair across from her drafting table, maintaining professional distance even though every cell in my body wants to close the gap between us.
She riffles through a portfolio on her desk and pulls out design sketches. “Ella mentioned this is the adaptive fashion line. Clothing for people with disabilities.”