Chapter 4
Jonathan
Icouldn’t sleep last night. Not even a little.
I tossed around like a rotisserie chicken in the overpriced sheets I splurged on.
Too hot, too cold, brain doing backflips.
The city lights leaked through my blinds like they were personally offended I was trying to rest. I’m usually not someone who lies awake obsessing about other people’s problems or even my own, to be honest. I’m a firm believer in the “what happens, happens” mindset.
Control what you can, accept what you can’t, move the fuck on. It’s a simple yet efficient psyche.
I’ve carried that mentality ever since I was nine and getting bullied for my lisp and crooked teeth. My younger brother was four; cute as hell, no awkward phase in sight and I was the weird kid who couldn’t say his S’s and looked like his teeth were trying to flee his face.
Eventually, I grew out of the lisp. My parents got me braces I had to wear for three years, which sucked, but they worked. I didn’t let the bullying wreck me. And once I went from ugly duckling to, well, the stud I am today, I figured I’d be okay. Everyone gets bullied. It happens.
Except maybe my brother. He somehow skipped the entire awkward stage.
Life’s always just… worked for him. Now he’s in med school, working his ass off to become a surgeon.
Which is, I’ll admit, insanely impressive.
I’m proud of him. Always have been. He doesn’t really need me anymore as the big brother and that’s okay.
I’ve gotten used to standing on my own. Not a loner, per se.
I like people. I like going out, hanging with friends, being the wildly charming, sex-positive man that I am.
However, even that gets old faster than you’d think.
Still, none of that mattered this morning.
I couldn’t take a day off today, even though I gravely considered it.
Our boss was bringing in the new silent partner, the one who bought a majority stake in the company and they were planning to spend the week with us, learning what we do and how we help hundreds of companies sell their products to the masses.
Technically, Victoria is my boss, though she doesn’t own the company. The place was founded by four original partners like some kind of marketing Mount Rushmore and over the years, they slowly retired and sold off their shares. Charles, the last of them, ended up as the sole owner.
Nonetheless, good ole Charles is pushing eighty and apparently decided it was time to bring in someone young, fresh and most importantly… loaded. So he sold fifty-one percent of the company to some mystery millionaire, which basically makes them the new head honcho.
No one knows anything about them. No name. No face. No idea if they’re a man, a woman, or a magician with an MBA.
Victoria’s been tight-lipped about the whole thing, then suddenly, surprise, our “silent partner” decided they want to be a hands-on silent partner. Which kind of defeats the point, I’d imagine. Victoria didn’t get a say in the matter. None of us did.
So now it’s the big day and I’ve prepared a fancy, mind-blowing welcome presentation to highlight the office’s success. Okay, more my success.
I’m not one to kiss the ring, however I’m also not stupid. I know how to rub shoulders with the right people and that typically gets me exactly where I want to go.
After I manage to survive the Starbucks line, I head toward the office.
Outside, the usual Manhattan street circus is in full swing; someone yelling at a parking meter, a guy in a suit pacing with a Bluetooth in his ear like he’s closing a shady Wall Street deal and a woman walking three poodles dressed better than I am.
That’s all white noise compared to running into AJ just outside the building.
She’s wearing beige slacks, Tory Burch flats and a long-sleeve silk top that’s…
off-white? Ivory? Some sort of expensive neutral.
Her hair is styled like it always is; mostly straight, parted to the side, with a little wave at the ends.
I hate that I know her hairstyle that well.
She spots me and immediately speeds up, like my presence physically offends her.
I try to hold the door open for her and flash my best smirk, but shocker, she’s not buying it. She lets out a tiny huff and pushes the door open herself. Then she speed-walks across the atrium toward the golden elevator doors like she’s gunning for an Olympic medal.
Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t make it in time. The elevator’s still closed, which gives me just enough time to catch up and pull up beside her. Close enough that our arms almost touch. God, I love annoying this woman.
She mumbles something under her breath I don’t catch, so I lean a little closer.
“Well, good morning, AJ,” I say, turning to hit her with my signature smile.
“Fine. Hi. Good morning,” she mutters back, like she just lost an arm-wrestling match.
Naturally, I decide to start messing with her early today.
“I had the craziest dream last night,” I say casually. “I was sucked into a vortex.”
She doesn’t look at me.
I wait a beat. “And the vortex… was your lips.”
Her eyes roll so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of her head.
“I am literally going to knock that coffee out of your hands,” she snaps.
“Wanna share it?” I ask, taking a sip for dramatic effect. “My lips have been on it, but I assume that’s not an issue for you.” I wink.
Just then, Victoria walks up and we both immediately straighten up.
Not that I’m scared of her, still there’s this little thing called a promotion to Vice President of Marketing happening soon, once Allen finally retires, and I’d love to snag his sweet office.
Be the one calling the final shots on our biggest ad campaigns.
Also, AJ wants the position too. Which means I want it more, so I can rub it in her face for at least a year.
Translation: being professional and overly pleasant to Victoria is key for the next few weeks.
Allen’s always taken more of a liking to AJ, but that’s only because he takes more of a liking to every woman in the office. What a creep.
I might be a suave flirt, but I know how to read the room. I’m not some desperate, screwy guy. Plus, let’s be honest, women flock to me. It’s not exactly a concern I struggle with.
“Good morning, you two,” Victoria says with a smile.
AJ and I shoot each other a look. Victoria’s not mean, but she’s definitely intimidating and not exactly the small-talk type. AJ even invited her to her wedding and Victoria declined. Though, from what I heard, she still sent AJ an expensive gift.
Now I’m wondering… did AJ get to keep all her wedding gifts, or send them back? Hmm. Might have to ask her one day, preferably when she’s really pissing me off. That’d shut her up for a few hours.
“Might I say, Victoria,” I begin, flashing a polished smile, “you look incredible in that Chanel jacket.” I know my designers. “And you seem to be in an excellent mood,” I add, shooting AJ a look that says yes, I know I’m laying it on thick.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” Victoria replies, pulling a tube of lipstick from her matching Chanel purse. She applies it with one hand, flawless as always. “But I haven’t made any decisions yet about Allen’s replacement.”
“Of course. Just being friendly,” I say smoothly.
AJ huffs beside me.
Victoria turns to her. “How are you this morning, Abigail?”
AJ blinks, clearly stunned that Victoria’s addressing her with actual warmth.
“I’m good, thank you,” she says, smiling politely.
That smile? Ugh. Too perfect. Straight teeth, the ideal shade of white. The kind of smile that says, yes, I probably floss twice a day and my dentist sends me Christmas cards.
The elevator doors open and the three of us step on.
Inside the elevator is so awkward I half-expect it to start narrating our thoughts.
Some low-budget jazz music trickles out of the speakers like it knows it’s making things worse.
AJ stands just far enough away to make it clear I’m lucky she’s not using her purse as a weapon.
I hit the button several times for floor seven, our floor.
Our office takes up the entire level. The building itself isn’t massive, it’s got some age to it; old bones with a modern face-lift.
It was fully remodeled about ten years ago to give it that exposed-brick-meets-sleek-glass vibe.
Charles, our soon-to-be-retired owner, also owns the building.
Which reminds me, I really should look into investing in real estate.
Especially in New York. My money’s just sitting in a trust. Sure, it’s gaining interest, but I could be doing something smarter with it.
I never seem to have the time. Or maybe just not the urge.
I will admit, lately I’ve been wanting more out of life.
What “more,” exactly? I’m not totally sure.
Just… something. Maybe that’s why I didn’t sleep last night.
Maybe that’s why I feel like I’m running on fumes this morning.
The elevator dings and we all step off.
Victoria wastes no time beelining to her office, hers is the best one on the floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows, panoramic city view, total boss energy. She probably wants to prep for the ten o’clock meeting with our new partner, which explains the extra pep in her stilettos.
As I move to step off the elevator, AJ tries to do the same and we bump into each other.
She smells good. Like… really good. Floral, with a hint of citrus underneath. How have I never noticed how good she smells?
“Excuse me,” she snaps, brushing past me like I’m in the way, which I guess I am.
She isn’t always this jumpy. I assume she’s more embarrassed than anything. I mean, we did suck face last night. Twice. Hard to come back from that in the fluorescent light of day.