42. Lila
Chapter forty-two
Lila
“Okay, here are the final copies of the presentations. Yours is the one with the forest green cover, so make sure you don’t hand it out to Jaxon Steele,” I say as I release a small squeal and hand off the spiral-bound presentations I’ve been spending way too much time on lately. We were selected as finalists despite submitting our proposal at the last hour.
“I cannot believe you get to meet Jaxon Steele! I’ve always wanted his song ‘Forever Starts Here’ to be the song I walk down the aisle to.” I let out a small sigh, realizing that day may never actually come for me, but that’s okay.
I’m learning to let go of the unhealthy expectations I set for myself, including the ones regarding finding and falling in love. If I learned anything from my time with JT, it’s that love sneaks up on you sometimes. Lightning strikes just the right spot and the flames spring to life as if from nowhere. Looking for the fire before the lightning is a fool’s errand.
Kelsey gives me a sympathetic look, but then raises her eyebrow as she asks, “You do know I already know Jaxon, right?”
“WHAT? How am I just finding out about this now? We’ve been working on this for months.”
“He grew up in Wild Bluffs.”
“What?!” I ask it again because it feels like this is information that should be blasted across the internet, and it is not. I would know, too. I did a lot of research and deep dives on Jaxon Steele throughout this process.
Kelsey just shrugs. “He’s very security conscious.” She taps our ninety-eight-page security proposal as if proving her point. “And he didn’t graduate from here, so it’s a lot easier to scrub from his history.”
“Wait, why does he want to scrub—”
“Oh, there’s my dad. Wish me luck!” Kelsey says before climbing in the passenger side of her dad’s pickup. Ken, like the saint he is, is giving Kelsey a ride to the airport at six thirty in the morning. There’s a chance there will be hail in Denver this weekend, and she didn’t want to risk her car getting damaged in the airport parking lot. I think they just like spending time together, and the thought makes my heart ache a little, wishing my parents lived closer.
I sit down at my desk, staring at the task list on my screen, wondering what I should dive into first. As excited as I am that the final presentations for Jaxon Steele are here, I’m dreading how much my workload is going to be lightened. I shoot a quick message to Brian, the head of Information Security, asking him for an update on a recent breach we detected in one of our clients’ systems. I’m coordinating our rapid response team with our team who will do a deep dive into the system, and I need to make sure our final penetration testers have what they need to both replicate the attack and try to anticipate the next iterations of the attack. I’m not an expert in any of these things, but I know enough to get by. Plus, my project management skills are top-notch, so Kelsey has been shifting my job more and more toward that side of the work.
I sit at my desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard as I wait for Brian’s response. My mind keeps drifting back to the conversation with Kelsey. Jaxon Steele. In Wild Bluffs. It’s wild to think someone so famous, whose music has touched so many, grew up in this small town.
My desktop pings, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a message coming through from Brian.
Brian: Got your message. We’ve isolated the breach but we’re still working on patching the vulnerabilities. Pen testers will get the results soon. We’re on track, but it’s delicate. I’ll keep you posted.
Good. At least that’s one thing I don’t have to stress about right now.
My mind wanders back to the shocking information that Kelsey knows Jaxon Steele. How have I lived here this long without someone in town mentioning they knew him way back when? That feels like information that would just be part of the standard Wild Bluffs rotation. On the plus side, while I’m not sure who our competition is, it feels like Kelsey growing up with Jaxon will be a positive, right? Unless she was secretly the mean girl growing up. Then maybe it will take more than our kickass proposal. After everything I’ve gone through with this proposal, I’m far more invested than I should be, and it makes me anxious that it’s all coming down to a handful of final decisions. A part of me should feel relieved the finish line is near, but instead, I feel a familiar sense of dread creeping in.
What will I do with my time if we don’t get the contract, and I don’t have enough work to keep me busy until nine or ten every night?
My work has been the perfect distraction. Distraction from the ache in my chest, the endless loop of thoughts about JT, and the constant questioning of where I went wrong or what I could’ve done differently. Whenever the feelings get too loud, I lose myself in work. But now, with things winding down, I can feel the emptiness gnawing at me again, threatening to bubble to the surface.
I shake my head, willing myself to focus. One task at a time.
Before I know it, an hour has passed, and Becca and Izzy are both arriving, settling in to start their workdays. I absently reach into my bag for my notebook, and as I pull it out, a paperback tumbles out with it, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Fighting for Forever , by Mia Ford. The cover, featuring an illustrated couple locked in an almost-kiss, seems to mock me, but I don’t let it. Instead, I see it as a source of inspiration. It’s about a brooding hero who pushes the heroine away because he doesn’t think he deserves her, only to have a grand epiphany about how much he loves her. I may have reached an unhealthy level of projecting, but until I convince both myself and JT that this isn’t just a storyline for novels, I’m going to keep reading.
I deserve a happy ending, and so does JT. Love is worth fighting for, and there is no doubt in my mind what we had was real, even if it was messy and imperfect—hell, I know it’s real because it’s messy and imperfect.
Shoving the book back into my bag, I look over at my officemates. Becca’s long blonde hair is the only part of her I can see around her computer monitor. She’s explaining something about lowering overhead to increase profit margins to Izzy, who is silently sipping her coffee as she stares intently at Becca’s screen. They look busy, but I also need to know more about the Jaxon Steele drama that was casually dropped in my lap this morning.
“Umm, you guys, did you know Jaxon Steele grew up here?” I ask, immediately feeling stupid. Of course they knew that. They also grew up here. You don’t miss a kid when your entire grade has less than fifty students in it.
“Yep,” Becca says, showing no interest whatsoever in this.
“And?” I ask.
“And what?” Becca replies.
“You guys told me the entire family history of the girl who delivered my coffee last week. You knew her great-grandfather’s name.”
“Well, his name was Elmer Fud. That’s not something you forget easily.”
“Okay…but one of the top country artists in the world grew up with you and you didn’t even mention it. He would’ve been like, right around your age, right? Did you know him? Is he awful?” I can feel myself getting carried away here. He was likely just a nobody little kid who moved away when he was like six or something.
“He’s roughly the same age as us, yep,” Becca replies, shooting a glance at her friend as she says it. Izzy is surprisingly quiet about the whole thing, but who am I to talk? I haven’t been the best company of late.
“Did you guys know him? Were you friends with him?” I gush.
“I’m going to go grab some more coffee,” Izzy says, standing up and heading toward the door, a coffee cup still in her hand. I watch her go before turning back to Becca. She still has her eyes trained on her friend as she makes her way across the street, headed back to get a coffee that she doesn’t need.
“Look, I get that Jaxon Steele ”—she laughs at the last part, making it clear Steele wasn’t always his last name—“is like a superstar, but there is a complicated history between him and a lot of people in this town, including Izzy, so I would be careful who you bring him up to.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yep. Now, if you’re finally ready to talk again, why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you and the guy you most likely love but definitely are also super pissed at.”