Chapter 8 Jonathan
Jonathan
When AJ called me a dick, something twisted in my chest. Why did I care if she thinks I’m a dick? I mean… I can be. But most people like me. So why doesn’t she?
If I’m being honest, I can’t even remember exactly how our feud started.
I’m sure there was some moment that lit the match, the spark that set it off.
The fire’s just been burning for so long now, it all blends together.
An argument could be made that it reached full inferno after I mocked her following what I thought was her wedding weekend.
I obviously didn’t know she’d been left at the altar and when I found out I tried to apologize.
She didn’t buy it. Didn’t believe it was genuine. But it was.
How do you get someone to believe you when they’ve already decided they can’t trust you? It’s impossible. She’s impossible. And annoying. And cute. Too cute. Which is wildly inappropriate for me to be thinking about right now.
When I told Victoria I’d take the consequences for hiding our “relationship,” I wasn’t just posturing.
I meant it. Mostly because I have a job offer on the table.
A good one. A great one, truthfully. It’s in Boston.
Which means I’d have to move. There’s no way I’m commuting to Boston from Manhattan unless I develop the ability to teleport or become deeply unhinged.
While I love this city, grew up here and have all my friends here, I can’t ignore the pull for something different.
Two weekends ago, I went to Boston to meet with the head of Elite Visions Marketing.
Big-time firm. Impressive clients. They want me to lead their largest division of sales and marketing.
The salary’s incredible. Still, that’s not what’s pulling me.
It’s the change. The newness. The chance to shake things up.
I’d miss Manhattan, of course. The noise, the pace, the fact that I can get dumplings and dry cleaning at 1:00 a.m. Maybe a job change would be good for me.
So yeah, when it seemed like Victoria might fire us, I stepped in. Not just because I had a backup plan, though I did. More because getting fired might be the push I need to actually make a move.
Also, I didn’t want AJ to get fired either.
She’s insanely good at what she does and I know how much she loves this job.
So yeah… I’d be, for lack of a better word, upset for her if she lost it because of this mess.
She’d never believe me, even if I crossed my heart, hoped to die and swore those were my true intentions.
When Victoria said she wasn’t firing us, a small rush of relief hit me. Perhaps I’m not as ready to leave this place as I thought.
I needed time to think, so I spent the rest of the morning trying to steer clear of AJ, dodge Victoria and most importantly, avoid Marcus.
While at my desk, my stomach growls so loud I’m half-convinced the two interns whispering outside my office heard it.
I glance down at my TAG Heuer; sleek, silver, a gift to myself for surviving last quarter’s hellscape.
It’s officially lunchtime. I head down to the cafeteria.
Say what you want about corporate food, but ours delivers.
The paninis are solid, the fries are crispy and the cookies?
Legendary. I’ve already got a roast beef sandwich in hand and I’m just deciding between turkey pesto and chipotle chicken for round two when I catch sight of Marcus across the room.
Crap. He’s already walking my way, sandwich in one hand, cookie bag in the other, like we’re about to bond over baked goods.
“Hey,” he says nonchalantly.
“Hey,” I reply, side-eyeing the cookies like they started this mess. “Best cookies in the building,” I remark, mostly just to fill the awkward silence.
“Stan told me,” he replies, holding up the bag like he’s won something. “Guy behind the counter said I got the last one.”
What the hell! Now this guy just officially made my do-not-trust list.
“Cool,” I say, trying to act unimpressed even though I’m mentally adding have a stern word with Stan to my to-do list.
I make a move to walk away, but he stops me. “Mind if we talk for a minute?”
I give a small nod, even though every fiber of my body wants to say no and walk straight into a brick wall.
He gestures to the closest empty table. We both sit, dropping our sandwiches onto the table like it’s a summit meeting.
I stare at my food. I wonder if I can eat while he talks. I’ve got nothing to say, I’m starving and I’m now pissed I won’t be tasting one of those damn cookies.
Marcus sits down across from me and starts peeling back the paper on his sandwich.
Thank God. If we’re eating, maybe I can get through this without stabbing myself with a plastic fork.
I start to unwrap mine too, ready to zone out into deli meat and provolone bliss, when he says, “I’m happy AJ found someone.”
Is he, though? I pause mid-unwrapping, watching his face. He’s trying to look sincere, but something’s off. Like he’s holding back.
“Yep,” I say. “I make her very happy.”
Then I take a huge bite of my sandwich, mainly to shut myself up before anything dick-ish slips out of my trap.
He stops unwrapping and looks at me again. “There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t regret what I did to her.”
My eyebrows lift. Bold move, buddy.
“I mean” —he rushes to clarify—, “you know. Leaving her like I did. On our wedding day.” He laughs awkwardly, like that softens the blow. “Not, like, regret ending things… just… how I did it.”
Right. Sure. I raise my eyebrows conspicuously. “Well,” I say, swallowing my bite, “like I told you last night, if you hadn’t walked out, I never would’ve gotten my shot.” I flash a cool smile and take another exaggerated bite of my panini.
He nods and starts eating. We sit there in a silence so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Probably only lasts three minutes, though it feels like an hour.
“She seems good,” he infallibly says. “Not thrilled to see me, obviously. But… good. Victoria says she’s one of her best.”
“She is,” I admit. “One of the hardest working people I know.”
“She always was,” he protests.
I roll my eyes. I’ve had enough of the small talk and this weird insight into who AJ was, or maybe still is. I set my sandwich down and lean forward.
“Listen,” I start. “we don’t have to do this.”
Marcus lifts a brow, mildly confused.
“You’ll be here for a few days, things will be fine. Drama-free. Then you can go back to your corner of the world and we’ll continue being the profitable company you bought into.” I tack on a smirk for flair. I feel victorious like I just delivered a passive-aggressive TED Talk.
He sighs and lowers his sandwich.
“I guess you don’t know about the retreat either,” he says in a tone that feels suspiciously close to pity.
And just like that, my awareness sharpens. The chatter around us. The clatter of plastic trays. The sizzle of the panini press. The smell of warm bread drifting across our table like a warning.
“What retreat?” I ask, already regretting the question.
“We’re taking the office to Cedar Lakes for the weekend,” he says, casual as hell. “We leave Friday.”
Well, this just screams corporate nightmare. A company-wide retreat. A secluded escape featuring AJ, Victoria, Marcus… and the entire office. Half of whom know who Marcus is to AJ and all of whom just found out she and I are “together.”
“Great. I hear Cedar Lakes is phenomenal this time of year,” I say, pretending I don’t feel a spike of stress inching up my spine.
Marcus chuckles. “You definitely spend a lot of time with AJ.”
I give him a look. “Come again?”
“She says great a lot, doesn’t she?” he says with a grin that splatters across his dumbass, freshly spray-tanned face.
I blink, then sigh. “Yeah. She does.”
He gathers the rest of his food and stands. “Well… see you up there.”
Before he turns to leave, because the universe is strange, he holds out the cookie bag.
“Want one?” he asks.
I never say no to sugar. “Yeah. Thanks.” I reach in and grab one, watching as he nods and walks away. Is he trying to be nice to me? God help us all. This retreat is going to be a mess.