Chapter 6
Jonathan
Damn. AJ went ghost-white the second she saw her ex in our office. I didn’t think that was possible until I saw her go pale enough to blend into printer paper.
After we struck our deal in the women’s bathroom, which, by the way, smelled like sweet vanilla cream and was not-so-shockingly cleaner than the men’s, I watched the color start to return to her face.
She still looked sickly, but at least she had a little pink in her cheeks again. Like her body was slowly rebooting.
For some reason, I felt bad for her. AJ.
My work nemesis. A total brat more days than not.
Seeing her like this, though? It didn’t feel satisfying.
Maybe because I wasn’t the one who got to torture her today.
Or maybe because, as much as it pains me to admit it…
AJ’s actually a good person. She volunteers at the homeless shelter.
She bakes cookies for the office. She throws parties whenever something big happens, like someone signs a huge client, gets engaged, has a baby.
She stays late every night working. I should know, I’m usually here too.
Sometimes I even trail behind her in the parking garage to make sure she gets to her car okay.
She annoys the ever-living hell out of me, but I still don’t want her getting mugged. Or hurt.
We both shuffle into the conference room with everyone else. Victoria’s already posted up at the head of the table like the queen she is, and Marcus, smug as hell, is seated beside her. He looks at AJ. Then at me. Then back at her. Almost like he expected her to be here… and had no idea I would be.
According to AJ, he knew where she worked. He just never showed up or met anyone. Maybe he didn’t realize he was buying into her company. How do you not know where your fiancé works? What a dick. That just makes me hate him more.
Also… what did AJ even see in him? He dresses like a professor and has that “I teach finance at an Ivy school” energy. Okay, sure he looks like James Marsden, so the guy’s got the whole clean-cut, charming thing going for him, still doesn’t mean he’s half as cool as that actor seems.
AJ and I end up sitting next to each other. Not on purpose, it’s just the closest pair of open seats when we walk in. If I know her, she’d rather be dangling off the edge of this building than in this room right now.
She inches her chair closer to mine, like she’s using me as some kind of emotional life raft.
Under the table, I lightly tap her thigh. She flinches at first, then glances over, realizing what I’m doing, offering support. Her mouth softens into the tiniest smile.
I like this version of AJ, the one who doesn’t look like she’s mentally setting me on fire.
But I don’t like the other part, the scared, shaky one she’s also trying to hide.
People are watching her. I can see the curious glances.
Some of them were invited to her wedding.
Did they know who Marcus was? She used to have photos of them in her office.
I didn’t pay much attention back then. I do remember one of the pictures, some cheesy shot of the two of them in a hot air balloon. I think that’s when he proposed.
Totally lame. If it were me, the proposal would’ve been way more epic. I clear my throat and shift in my chair, brushing off the thought like it didn’t just knock the wind out of me mid-meeting.
“Alright. Welcome, everyone,” Victoria begins.
Her Chanel jacket is off now, revealing a sleek gray blouse with black pearl-like buttons marching down the front.
Stylish as ever and rich, thanks to divorces one, two and most recently, three.
If anyone’s more jaded about love than me, it’s Victoria.
Once she finds out who Marcus is in relation to AJ, she won’t care.
Not in a cruel way, just in a that’s life, suck it up kind of way.
“This is Marcus Taylor,” she continues, gesturing toward him. Marcus stands and offers a little wave, like he’s accepting an award for Most Likely to Have Ruined Someone’s Life and Still Look Like a GQ Model.
“He’s our new silent partner and will be shadowing our office for the next few days.” Then Victoria turns to me. “Jonathan?” Her voice is casual, but her eyes flick to mine with all the sharpness of a thrown dart.
I flinch like the time my mom caught me cracking open every single egg from our fridge on the driveway just to see what would happen in the sun.
The market was already closed and yeah… my mom’s face?
Not exactly glowing with pride. Even then, though, her version of punishment was more of a light tap than an emotional spanking.
My mom was sweet. I got more of my dad’s edge.
Tough, blunt, low tolerance for feelings.
Still, they made it work. Called themselves salt and pepper.
“Yes?” I say, sitting up straighter, pretending I didn’t just zone out.
“Don’t you have a presentation prepared for Marcus?” she asks, like I’ve personally offended her by not already launching into it.
Right. Presentation. I shoot up so fast I nearly knock my chair over. I adjust my belt, check my shirt’s still tucked in and try to push down the weird flutter of nerves that feels dangerously close to terror.
“Yes. Yes, I do,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ve compiled stats from the last three fiscal years to showcase our revenue growth, client testimonials and a rundown of the big fish we’re currently working on poaching from other firms.”
Luckily, I’d already loaded the slides onto the main conference screen earlier this morning. I did forget my printed notes. It’s fine though, I can work the room off the cuff. That’s kind of my thing.
I grab the clicker and the massive projection screen drops down from the ceiling.
The lights dim. My slideshow begins. With each slide, I walk them through our strongest data points: revenue trends, retention stats, the growth rate of influencer marketing and upcoming prospects.
I keep it tight, under seven minutes. I’m no amateur; everyone knows attention spans are toast after that mark.
After the presentation, a few people clap and I feel a mild sense of pride. I glance over at AJ and offer a small smile, like Hey, not bad, right?
“Thank you, Jonathan,” Victoria says, already moving things along.
I slide back into my seat and take a long sip from one of the water bottles Brooke, our always-on-it office assistant, had set out for everyone.
“That was great. Thank you,” Marcus adds.
I give him a polite nod and go back to sipping, pretending I’m completely unfazed by the fact that this man left the woman next to me standing in a bridal suite years ago.
He leans forward slightly, adopting that approachable-big-boss energy.
“I just want to take a moment to thank everyone for having me. I promise to stay out of the way for the most part. I’d just like to observe a few client meetings, get a feel for the team dynamics here.
” He scans the room like he’s about to break into a trust fall.
“Let’s go around. Say your name, how long you’ve been with the company, and something about yourself. ”
Because nothing says bonding like a forced fun fact circle.
AJ and I are seated at the far end, so it takes a few minutes to get to us.
Stan kicks things off with how he’s into fly fishing and then Marge goes on about how she loves knitting and cooking.
Elaine jumps in with a funny story about trying, and failing, to run a marathon. It gets a solid laugh from the room.
By the time it’s AJ’s turn, her voice is quieter. “I’ve worked here for six years… and I like to bake,” she says, folding her hands in her lap.
“She makes the best chocolate chip cookies,” Elaine adds, grinning at Marcus.
Marcus smiles like he already knows that. Of course he does.
Then it’s my turn. I keep it simple: a little about my love for classic cars and my lifelong obsession with baseball. As I speak, I catch Marcus watching me with a strange face. It’s the kind of look someone gets right before they pour gasoline on a fire because they’re dying to watch it explode.
“How long have you and Abby been an item?” he asks, casually tossing the grenade onto the table.
Well fuck me. The room goes dead silent. Tanya and Elaine both gasp, loudly. Stan starts to say, “That’s funny, they hate—” but Tanya kicks him under the table and he shuts up.
Victoria’s eyes dart between me, AJ and Marcus. “I’m sorry,” she says stiffly. “Abigail and Jonathan collaborate on campaigns, but they’re not… involved like that.”
“Oh?” Marcus blinks innocently. “Because when I ran into them last night, they said—”
I glance at AJ. She looks like she’s teetering on the edge of either screaming or sobbing. Possibly both. And in a split-second decision, because sometimes the best move is made before anyone else can, I interrupt.
“Yes,” I blurt. “We’re… seeing each other. For a few months now.”
Every eyeball in the building might as well be laser-focused on us. I swear I can hear Tanya’s acrylics gripping her Stanley Cup like it’s the popcorn bucket in a movie theater.
I reach for AJ’s hand and tug her to her feet. She resists for a beat, then stands. We’re already knee-deep in this lie, might as well commit.
“Yes,” she echoes, her voice calm but tight. “It’s… new-ish. We didn’t want to cause drama. So…” She glances at me, like we’ve reached the edge of the cliff and are deciding whether to jump. “We kept it a secret.”
“I knew it,” Tanya squeals, sounding way too satisfied.
“Settle down, Tanya,” Victoria mutters, rolling her eyes. Then she crosses her arms. “You two know office policy. All interdepartmental relationships must be disclosed.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “We just wanted to make sure it was… the real deal.”
Victoria narrows her eyes like she’s sniffing out bullshit.
“And is it?” Tanya asks, leaning in like we’re on an episode of The Bachelor. Seriously, Tanya? Read the room.
Victoria shoots her a glare but then turns to me, clearly wanting an answer too.
“Yes,” I say, standing tall. “It is.”
AJ takes a breath in, then out. “Yes,” she says shaky yet solid.
“I’m sorry, Victoria,” Marcus adds. “I didn’t realize I was saying anything wrong.”
Yes, you did, asshole, I say with my eyes as I shoot him a death glare.
“We met last night and they seemed open with their relationship,” he adds, all innocence and fake humility.
“How about you just focus on being a silent partner instead of meddling in people’s personal lives?” I snap.
“Jonathan!” Victoria scolds, her voice serrated.
But Marcus holds up a hand, pretending to be the bigger person. “No, no, Victoria. He’s right,” he says with a sigh, all noble regret. “You’re right, Jonathan. I’m sorry.”
Victoria and half the women in the room buy the performance like it’s on sale at Saks. He’s one good, calculated bastard, I’ll give him that.
“This was great. Thank you, everyone,” Marcus says, pushing back from the table. “I need to step out and make a few calls, but I’ll be back shortly.”
“You can use my office,” Victoria offers, already back to boss mode. “Down the hall, on the left.”
“Thank you,” he says, like he’s the fucking president. “See you later, everyone.”
He actually waves. What a prick!
As soon as he’s gone, Victoria turns back to us, her finger pointing like a dagger. “You two. Abigail’s office. Now.” She strides out.
I glance around at my coworkers, my fellow inmates and most of them are either giggling, grinning, or straight-up whispering already. I catch Manny’s eye and he looks stunned. I wink at him. Then I push back my chair and rise, all fake swagger.
I let my lovely “girlfriend” go first, of course.
As we make our way toward her office, she shoots me a look over her shoulder.
“We are so dead,” she admits, swallowing hard.
I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Yep.”