“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m just crafty.”

  “London’s being modest. She has her own store on Etsy that she runs in her spare time, which she admittedly has very little of.”

  “That might be because you’re monopolizing all of it these days,” Trent says with an arch of his brow.

  I can’t tell if this is just good-natured ribbing or what. I’ve never seen Jackson and Trent interact before, apart from Trent reminding him that he had a meeting and Jackson blowing it off to sit in on mine.

  “Monopolizing is what you do when you hijack my dinner meetings,” Jackson shoots back.

  “I’m not hijacking it. I was invited. Anyway, back to this store you have that you don’t have the time you need to run because Jackson here is eating it up with meetings on the other side of the country.” Trent folds his hands and gives me his attention.

  Under the table, Jackson’s knee knocks against mine. It’s purposeful, and of course he’s already aware of how much I don’t love having the attention focused on me. When we’re talking about Spark House, it’s fine. I’m not solely responsible for making it the success it is. Avery is very much the ringleader, and I’ve had to learn so many different skills that don’t come naturally as a result.

  And sitting here at a table of multimillionaires, my little Etsy shop that helps pay the mortgage and gives me something to do with the countless tiny stars I compulsively make seems trite and trivial. “It’s a hobby. I just do it for fun. The Etsy shop, that is.”

  “If it creates revenue, it’s not a hobby,” Jackson argues and then turns his attention back to Linc and Griffin. “Her store has its own cult following. Every time she posts a new item, there’s a flurry of social media activity, and she’s been featured in several articles on one-of-a-kind blogger sites. And she uses predominantly recycled products.”

  “What’s your store called?” Linc asks.

  “Starry-Eyed Treasures,” I reply. “And I think Jackson is talking it up a bit.”

  “I’m just telling the truth. I can’t tell you what kind of strings I had to pull and the favors I had to call in to get London here tonight.” Jackson lifts his glass of scotch to his lips to hide his mirthful smile.

  “Like keeping the fact that it was on the other side of the country a secret until we were driving to the airfield, and pulling my sisters in on the deviousness,” I fire back.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Jackson shrugs.

  Linc leans back in his chair and swirls his scotch around in his glass, a half smile tipping up one corner of his mouth. “So I gotta know, how long have you two been dating, and why is this the first time you’ve brought London to New York?”

  I almost choke on my tea. As it is, I have to turn my head and cough into my napkin. “We’re not dating,” I explain. I can feel my face heating up like a Bunsen burner, and not just because I tried to inhale tea instead of air.

  “I asked London out, but she turned me down.” This time Jackson doesn’t even bother to hide his smile. “Trent knows. He was with me when it happened.”

  “You were high-level compulsive staring at her the entire night. I’m surprised she didn’t mace you when you approached her. And now I’m kinda sad I left before you had a chance to embarrass yourself, because seeing you get shot down would have been entertaining,” Trent replies with a grin.

  I had no idea Trent was with him that day, although the man he was sitting with had his back to us, and I was trying not to pay attention to either of them. “You can’t just say things like that without any context!” I shoot Jackson an unimpressed glare before I give my attention back to Linc so I can explain. “I’d just gotten out of a relationship, and he approached me at a bar. The timing was wrong, and now we’re working together.”

  “Interesting.” Linc spins his glass on the table. “Did Jackson ask you out before or after you started working together?”

  “Before. By several months. And I had no idea who he was when I turned him down. And then when I showed up for a meeting with two people on his team, he ended up sitting in on the meeting. It took me a few minutes to realize he was the same person who asked me out, which I’ll be honest, was incredibly unnerving.”

  “You didn’t seem rattled,” Jackson observed.

  “I had my game face on.”

  Linc’s grin widens. “Hmm. I suppose we’ll see how this working relationship pans out soon enough.”

  I bite my tongue about the fact that I’ve already asked him out and he’s turned me down, so there’s nothing to pan out.

  “Speaking of, it’s too bad you can’t come to Colorado for the charity event we’re hosting at Spark House,” Jackson says.

  Thankfully this time I’m not drinking anything, so I don’t choke.

  “Cosy loves Colorado, so I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince her to make the trip. Let me look at my schedule and get back to you?” Griffin says.

  I don’t know whether I want to kick Jackson in the shins for this dinner or kiss him. Or both.

  12

  KEEP THE REINS TIGHT

  JACKSON

  “Thanks for calling me out, asshole,” I mutter to Linc as I give him a hearty pat on the back. I’m trying to play it off, but honestly, I’m rattled.

  “You’re as transparent as a jellyfish, my friend,” he replies good-naturedly.

  “We need to talk,” Trent mutters, repeating the same back-pat-hug. “Is she staying in the penthouse or the apartment?”

  “The apartment,” I reply quietly.

  He leans back, his expression reflecting relief. “Good. Okay. I’ll see you in the morning. Keep your head on straight tonight.” He blows out a breath like this whole thing is causing him anxiety.

  I nod and we step away from each other.

  Up until now, I thought I’d been doing a good job of keeping the lines between personal and professional entirely separate, but with Linc’s observations and Trent’s disquiet, I see now that maybe my ability to stay professional has become compromised.

  I’ve been making excuses to see more of her than I would any other company in any of our partnerships. And flying her to New York to meet with my powerful friends so she could pick their brains is a few solid steps outside of my normal.

  London, poised and charming as ever, shakes hands with Griffin, Linc, and Trent, thanking them for a lovely evening, and then we’re heading for the elevator, back to my penthouse.

  London stands about three feet away from me, her gaze fixed on the light above the elevator.

  “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” I try to make polite small talk.

  Her gaze darts my way, but she remains facing the elevator doors. “After I got over the initial shock of who exactly we were eating dinner with, yes, thank you.”

  I’m nervous now, aware that I blindsided her with this dinner. On top of not telling her where the meeting was to take place. At least she has a room to escape to that isn’t inside my penthouse.

  London steps into the elevator ahead of me.

  I hold my card in front of the sensor and the doors slide closed, locking me inside the small, mirrored space with London.

  As soon as we’re in motion, London turns to me. “Lincoln Moorehead and Griffin Mills? Why didn’t you warn me ahead of time that’s who we were having dinner with? Why purposely keep it from me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to overthink it.”

  She purses her lips and narrows her eyes.

  “I was going to tell you on the way here, but I asked your sisters, and they thought it would be better if I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to psych yourself out.”

  She props a fist on her hip. “One is the CEO of a media company and the other is a hotel mogul!”

  “Griffin’s father is actually the hotel mogul, and I’m a CEO and you manage just fine with me,” I point out.

  “It’s not the same and you know it.” Her eyes flash with ire. “You set this whole thing up and kept me in the dark about it the entire time.” She blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of her nose.

  “You’re right and I feel like I need to apologize for that. I followed the advice of your sisters, and maybe I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think through the optics of this for you and how it might make you feel, and I absolutely should have.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.” The way she crosses her arms tells me I absolutely do.

  The elevator doors slide open, and I motion for her to go ahead of me. She hesitates for a moment and then crosses the threshold. She doesn’t make a move past the foyer, though.

  I don’t like how glaring the power imbalance is right now. “But I do, because I didn’t consider how keeping this from you would impact you. I also didn’t fully reflect on what I’ve asked of you on a personal and emotional level. And I realize that we’re on my turf, which puts you in an awkward position.” I rub the back of my neck.

  “Because you usually don’t keep who you’re having dinner with a secret?” She arches a brow.

  “Yes. And until tonight, I’ve never had a female business associate stay here who I’ve also asked out.” I motion to the apartment door. “Which is something I probably should have considered prior to bringing you here. I need you to know that your place in the Teamology initiative is in no way influenced by how you respond to me constantly forcing you into situations that I know will invariably take you by surprise.”

  “I didn’t think it would be.” She arches a brow. “Especially considering we’re still working together after I was the one who asked you out last.”

  “I can’t work with you and date you,” I remind her.

  “I’m aware.”

  “You’re allowed to be pissed off at me.” I need to stop being turned on by her sass and her ability to stand her ground.

  “Does that mean I need your permission first?” Annnd she’s back to crossing her arms.

  “Shit. No.” I run a hand through my hair. “Of course not. I just mean if you want to give me hell, go for it. Tonight was a complete dick move on my part. Look, I need to be completely honest with you because I think you’re under the misguided assumption that I don’t want to date you, which isn’t the case at all.”

  She drops her arms. “I’m confused.”

  “You have a right to be. I like you. I like spending time with you. But I created a business relationship when I got involved with the charity event, and that means I won’t act on those feelings or it puts us both in an even worse position. And I’m not willing to jeopardize your place in this initiative or the opportunities this charity event could afford you.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of it from that angle. I just thought you weren’t interested anymore.”

  “This meeting with Linc and Griffin has made it clear that I might not be doing as good of a job at keeping this as professional as I intended. But I wanted you to have this opportunity. They’re great guys, and Spark House could gain a lot from having a working relationship with them.”

  She taps her lips a few times, maybe absorbing my admission. “From the start, you have treated me as your equal. Even in that first meeting when you were asking the hard questions that made you seem like a jerk. But I realized quickly that you were treating me as a peer, and that you’ve been trying to push me outside of my comfort zone for my benefit. You’ve been very professional, although it’s a bit of a relief to know that this”—she motions between us—“isn’t a figment of my imagination.”

  “It’s not. I really am sorry if that’s what you believed.”

  “I didn’t know what to believe.”

  I nod in understanding. It’s been a tough line to toe. “It’s been an intense evening, so if you would like some time to decompress on your own, we can call it a night, or we can debrief and you can tell me what you thought of Linc and Griffin.” I motion to the door of the apartment.

  “Would you like time to decompress on your own?” She throws the question right back at me.

  “No, but I’m not the one who got put through the gauntlet tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a chance to debrief.”

  This is good, back to business and away from personal. “It’s a nice night. We can have a drink on the balcony.”

  “Do you mind if I get changed first?” she asks.

  “Not at all.” I give her the keycard to my penthouse, and she disappears into the apartment.

  I use my thumbprint to let myself into the penthouse. I’m learning that the best way to deflect with London is to bring it back to business when things start getting too intense. Which is ironic since it’s the business stuff that tends to get her all worked up in the first place.

  I hope she changes into ratty sweats and an oversize shirt because she’s been killing me all night in that dress. I scrub my hand over my face. “Only a few more weeks and then the event will be over, and I can ask her out again. And hopefully she’s still interested in going on a date by then.” Fantastic. Now I’m giving myself pep talks.

  I take the time to change out of my suit and into something casual. There’s no way I can throw on sweats because they do nothing to hide below-the-belt issues, and those have been happening more and more frequently when London’s around.

  I check my phone before I put it on the charger.

  I have messages from Trent. Actually, I have several GIFs poking fun at my situation. One says: May the Force Be with You. Another is of someone drawing a line in the sand and someone else tromping all over it.

  It’s followed by the message:

  Is she safe in the apartment?

  I debate pretending I didn’t see it, but decide it’s pointless.

  We’re going to have a drink on the terrace. She won’t get a tour of my bedroom. She also gave me shit.

  Another GIF follows of a woman shoving a man to the ground and dunking a basketball.

  She’s got lady balls and you’ve got blue balls. You’re a match made in heaven. Stay strong and don’t let your hormones fuck this up for you.

  I send him back the thumbs-up and crossed-fingers emojis. I can only imagine the shit Trent is going to give me tomorrow.

  I toss my dress shirt into the closet and pull a worn T-shirt over my head and jab my legs into my favorite pair of jeans.

  Once I’m changed, I head to the kitchen and find the bottle of champagne and the mix I requested to be available when we returned from dinner so I can replicate London’s drink. I noticed that she would often reach for it, but then go for her water instead. She also has a habit of rubbing her index and middle finger together, as if she’s antsy and looking for something to do with her hands—like make those tiny puffy stars she seems so fond of.

  I’ve just finished making the drink when London calls out hello from the front foyer.

  I tell her I’m in the kitchen, and a moment later she appears. I’d like to say that her changing into something comfortable is better, but now she’s wearing a pair of navy leggings and a peach shirt that’s somehow flowy, but also manages to showcase all of her curves. I should probably go light on the scotch, so I don’t make poor choices that will cause me more problems, rather than fewer.

  “Oh! Is that the drink I had at dinner?”

  “It is. You seemed to enjoy it so I thought you might like another.”

  “I loved it! I can’t believe you have the recipe for it. I might need to get it from you for girls’ nights.”

  “I can most definitely make that happen.” I drop a whiskey ball into a glass and pour a modest amount of scotch into the glass, then lead London to the terrace. The breeze is warm and the view of the city is accompanied by the bustle of nightlife in the streets below. The lights on the terrace slowly rise, illuminating the lounge chairs.

  “This is amazing.” London takes a seat and folds her long legs, tucking her feet under her.

  “It is. Very different from Colorado, but this is where I come to relax, when I have the time, anyway.”

  “I imagine that’s fairly rare.”

  “You would be correct in that assumption.” More rare than I’d like. I take the seat across from her, watching her absorb the sights and sounds.

  “Thank you again, Jackson. While the surprises were … surprising, I’ve had a wonderful time and I sincerely appreciate all the opportunities you keep giving us.” Her expression is earnest as she tucks a few windblown strands of hair behind her ear. “I know I’m taking up a lot of your free time, and I hope other parts of your life aren’t suffering as a result.”

  “The only person I really spend much time with outside of work is Trent, and since we also work together, it’s not as if either of us is desperate for a guys’ night. Besides, he keeps a full social calendar so his spare time is occupied.”

  She takes a sip of her drink before she sets it on the table between us. “I’d just hate to think that you’re missing out on other opportunities by spending so much time working with me when I’m sure you have other things to do.”

  “As I’ve mentioned, I enjoy all this time with you, London.” And I’ll feel a lot better about that when the business part of this is over.

  She smiles softly. “I feel the same way.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. I was worried that I’d pushed you past your limit with this whole scenario.”

  She nods and gives me a sly smile. “Oh, there were a few moments when I was … less than impressed.”

  “Like throw food at me or squirt lemon juice in my eye unimpressed?”

  “More like kick you in the shins with pointy shoes, but”—she raises a finger to prevent me from interrupting—“once I got over the shock of it all, I enjoyed myself. And honestly, if I’d had time to prepare, I would have had a million questions for them and felt compelled to take notes, so I see why you didn’t tell me.” Her expression grows thoughtful for a moment. “I feel like I get to see a very different side of you here. The man behind the suit, I guess? Which sounds silly, since the first time I met you, you were wearing ripped jeans and a RECYCLE shirt. Very similar to this.” She nods at my attire. “I suppose I’ve been trying to figure out who the authentic you is, or if all of these versions I get to see are you.”