“She was making breakfast and her hair was in her face. I was helping keep it out of the way.”

  Trent raises a hand. “Okay. There is so much wrong with this explanation, I don’t even know where to start. First of all, she was making breakfast?”

  “She wanted to make use of the kitchen because it’s nice.”

  “Right.”

  “She stayed in the apartment, not the penthouse,” I say, because I already know that’s what he’s going to ask.

  “We’ll come back to that. So London made herself right at home and made you breakfast this morning. Did she happen to be wearing a negligee?”

  “No. She was wearing jeans and a shirt.”

  “Were you helping her with her hair because her hands were down your pants?”

  I give him a look. “She was flipping crêpes and they burn easily, not that I would expect you to know that since your preferred breakfast is still Eggo waffles. I wasn’t even thinking. I just leaned in and kissed the back of her neck.”

  “How did she react?” I can practically see his wheels turning.

  “She dropped the crêpe on the floor.”

  “Did she call you out?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know if she thought she imagined it or what, but I backed right off and she seemed fine. And before you ask, no, I don’t think I need to call my lawyer, but I do need to take myself off the Teamology initiative. I should’ve let you take over the charity event when you first offered.”

  “Are you serious about this woman?”

  “About wanting to date her? Yes.”

  “Do you want me to be the lead on the charity event?” He taps on the arm of his chair.

  “I don’t know that there’s much of a point with it being so soon.”

  He nods once. “I reserve the right to step in if I think it’s necessary, though.”

  “I know. And I’d expect nothing less from you.”

  “I should’ve seen this coming. You’ve been spending a lot of time with this woman. I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to get all defensive.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you sure she’s genuinely interested and not just playing you? I mean, you’re doing a lot for her and her hotel. More than you’ve done for anyone else who’s involved in this whole sponsorship thing. I’ve been on their social media, and they’re looking at a kitchen expansion so they can take on in-house catering and bigger events, which is great, but also expensive as hell. She has to know that there’s a benefit in working with you, and you seem to be wearing your heart on your sleeve, which … isn’t something you usually do.”

  “That’s not how London is.”

  “Not that you know of. Remember that Jessica woman? She seemed great until she wasn’t anymore.”

  “This isn’t the same.”

  “You were sure she wasn’t another one of those gold diggers until all of a sudden she was moving into your place because her lease fell through. I just don’t want you to go through something like that again. Jessica was a legal and social media nightmare.”

  He’s not wrong. She seemed great, and stable. Until one night, she was staying at my penthouse and the next, moving all of her things in while I was away on a business trip. That was when I realized she was just looking for a comfy ride.

  “She’s not going to turn into a Jessica.”

  “How do you know for sure? You’ve known her for what? A couple of months at most? You weren’t dating Jessica much longer than that before things blew up. Are you sure you don’t have blinders on?”

  “I’m sure. At least ninety-five percent anyway. I really want to see where this can go, if it can go anywhere.”

  “Okay. Then let me take over where I can so there’s less of a chance of you screwing this up. And you should probably mention this to Selene at some point, so she’s not totally in the dark on this one.”

  “Selene and I haven’t been involved in anything but a business capacity in a long time.”

  He cocks a brow. “What’s a long time? You know what, never mind. That’s not the point. Selene is still your friend, you should give her a heads-up about dating London, just so she’s in the know.”

  “I think it’s a non-issue, but if it comes up I’ll mention it.”

  “Whatever you think is best. I hope she’s worth it.”

  14

  WHAT IS THIS GREEN MONSTER?

  LONDON

  “I don’t know. Should we move that? I think it needs to be over there, where we can make it a focal point.” I motion to the sculpture, donated by a prominent local artist, in the middle of the room. I’ve been amazed by the number of donations, although when people find out the event is being hosted by Holt Media, they tend to want to be part of something special.

  “Maybe? But we’ve already moved it three times. Why don’t we wait for Mitchell and his team to get here? They can give us an idea of where things should go,” Harley offers.

  “Okay. Yes. That’s a good idea.” And not the first time my sister has made that suggestion. Also, I have a layout for the auction items, but seeing them in three dimensions is different than seeing them on a printout.

  It’s a strange-looking piece, but I’ve done my research and I’m very aware that it would most definitely go for a significant sum of money. To be honest, it’s a little overwhelming to have all these silent auction items in here, without a human security guard to watch over them. Or maybe some of those Mission Impossible laser lights that would signal an intruder.

  Spark House has an alarm system, but it seems woefully inadequate considering what is likely more than half a million dollars in donations. This event is shaping up to be very exclusive and good for Spark House on more than a publicity level. The initial social media blast that Holt Media initiated has boosted our following by ten percent already.

  Their social media manager, Selene, has been in touch a few times, once by phone, but mostly it’s been emails. While our communication has been direct and professional, it hasn’t been particularly warm. But then, she’s in the business of helping grow business, not becoming someone’s best friend. Which I can respect. I’m also a little intimidated by her, and, if I’m completely honest with myself—something I’ve been reluctant to do—I’m also a little … irked by the way she talked about Jackson during our one brief phone conversation. I can’t put my finger on why it bothers me, but it does.

  Later that afternoon, she arrives. I expect her not to look exactly like she does in her social media pictures, but I’m wrong. She doesn’t need any filter to look Insta-ready. She has long, thick dark hair, an incredible naturally tan complexion, eyes the color of coffee, full lips, and a body that has clearly been earned through countless hours of training. In short, she’s gorgeous. And once again, I experience that odd sensation that creeps up the back of my neck and makes the hairs stand on end. Like a cornered cat. Half of me is desperate for her to like me and the other half wants her to leave. I don’t like it. As a result, I’m nervous.

  “It’s so adorable!” She stands in the middle of the ballroom with her hands on her curvy hips. She does a slow spin and taps her lip. “So much potential.”

  “Thank you. We like it.” I keep my hands clasped in front of me to prevent me from using them to talk.

  She comes equipped with an entourage, who she quickly dispatches, moving things around, rearranging the room inside of an hour. Something that took me and my crew almost an entire day. Once she deems the space event-ready, she informs me that she’s going to head up to her room.

  “I presume that Jackson and I will be on the same floor,” she says as she sashays down the hall toward the elevator that will take her to the third floor. She has one of the nicest rooms in the hotel, aside from Jackson’s room. The entire third floor is dedicated to executive suites, and we’ve gone to a lot of trouble to make the accommodations as perfect as possible considering the clientele that we’re entertaining this weekend.

  “You will.” And now that I’ve seen her in person, I would prefer that they weren’t.

  “Perfect. I know he’ll appreciate that.” She affords me a tight-lipped smile.

  “Do you work together often?” Jackson has only mentioned Selene in passing—and only in respect to the charity event he’s hosting next month in New York—and that she’s the Teamology liaison. Selene initially hadn’t been slated to attend our event, but apparently she made a last-minute decision to fit it into her schedule, and while Harley loves it, I’m beginning to wish she opted out.

  “Mmm. We do.” Selene checks her phone, which buzzes several times in a row.

  “You’ve been business associates for a long time, then?” I don’t know why it feels like I’m prying.

  She lifts her gaze and gives me a quick appraisal, followed by another one of those smiles that seems to be verging on a smirk. “And friends even longer than that.”

  “Oh? I didn’t realize.”

  Her phone screen goes black, and she gives me her full attention. “Despite being a public figure, Jackson is a private man, so he tends to keep his personal relationships close to the vest. He doesn’t love speculation or rumors. It’s just not his style.”

  “Right. Of course. That absolutely makes sense.”

  “Jackson is very protective of the people who are close to him. Especially those of us who have had the privilege of knowing him before he made his fortune.”

  “I can definitely understand how important you must be to him, and Trent as well. He needs friends like you to watch out for him.” I mean it. Mostly. Although I honestly don’t know what to make of the prickly feeling on the back of my neck, or the strange urge I have to tell this woman that I’m not interested in Jackson because of his money. In fact, it’s very much the opposite. I like Jackson despite the fact that he could basically buy Spark House and turn it into a freaking amusement park should the desire strike him.

  Which I sincerely hope never happens.

  “He definitely does. Jackson has a soft, generous heart, which is why he needs people like me and Trent around to keep him in line.” She smiles, so I do in return, but it feels a lot like I’m being given a warning.

  “Soft heart or not, I can’t imagine he’s gotten where he is today without a shrewd business sense.” Normally I’m not combative, or even the kind of person to incite conflict of any kind, but I don’t love that this woman, who is very much the reason Spark House has had so much social media attention, is also the bug in Jackson’s ear.

  I’m also confused by Jackson’s behavior since I went to New York. First he tells me he’s interested in dating me, and then all of a sudden, it’s Trent who has seamlessly taken over the event without a peep from Jackson. It doesn’t make sense. And I still don’t know if I imagined his lips on the back of my neck or if it actually happened when I was in his place in New York.

  Selene throws her head back in a laugh. “Jackson would tell you his success is attributed to a little luck, his ability to tell people what they want to hear, and having the right people behind him. Anyway, I’ve taken up more than enough of your time, and I’m sure you still have much to do before tomorrow night. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, London. This really is a lovely event hotel. It’s obvious you and your sisters have put your heart and soul into making it what it is. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of sponsorships we can secure for you once the guests see what you’ve set up for them.”

  “Thank you. Enjoy your evening, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me or the front desk directly.”

  “Absolutely. See you in the morning.” And with that, she steps onto the elevator, her attention already on her phone again.

  I wait until the doors close before I let my shoulders sag and blow out a breath. I don’t have time to fixate on Selene, though, because she’s right, I have a million things to do before tomorrow night and not nearly enough hours left in the day to complete everything on my mental and physical checklist. Not to mention that Jackson is supposed to arrive in just a few hours, and I want everything to be as perfect as it can be before his arrival.

  Two hours later, I’m in the ballroom adjusting centerpieces and making sure everything looks perfect for tomorrow night. Once I’m done in here, I’ll go back to the office and review my checklist, answer any pressing emails, and make a new list for tomorrow morning.

  “How you hanging in there?” Harley hands me a glass of sparkling lemon water, which I down too quickly and finish on a hiccup.

  “Nervous. Excited. This is kind of a big deal, and I don’t want to let Jackson down. Or Selene, since she’s the one who’s going to be promoting this event and we kind of need her on our side.” I make a face. One that probably isn’t very becoming.

  “She’s fantastic, isn’t she? I really hope I get a chance to talk to her tomorrow night. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to fangirl all over her.”

  “Hmm. Maybe she was just preoccupied when I met her.” I rearrange a centerpiece on the head table, adjusting the flowers. Then I move a few of the stars that frame the bowl so there aren’t two blue ones beside each other.

  “Why do you say that?” Harley asks.

  “She was … standoffish with me, maybe? I don’t know what to think of her. She made it sound like she and Jackson are really close, but he’s only ever mentioned her in a business capacity.” I tap my fingers on the table. “I don’t know why, but she sort of irks me.”

  “I can tell you why she irks you.” Avery smirks at Harley as she comes into the room.

  I glance between them. “What do you know that I don’t?”

  “You’re jealous.”

  “Jealous? Why in the world would I be jealous?”

  “Because she’s a friend and business associate of Jackson’s, and she’s made you believe she knows him in ways you don’t. I’m guessing that irked feeling is actually jealousy because you have the hots for Jackson.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Uh, yeah, it is.” Harley nods her agreement.

  “Jackson and I are friends and business associates.” Even I don’t believe what I’m saying, and I get confirmation that they don’t either a second later when Avery and Harley give each other a look.

  “Whatever you say, London.”

  * * *

  Jackson finally arrives just after five. My stomach is full of butterflies and my nerves are in high gear. The jar full of puffy stars on my desk is a testament to that.

  I haven’t spoken to Jackson much since I went to New York with him. In fact, it’s been Trent who has been in my Google Doc, commenting on the color-coded lists and discussing any of the last-minute adjustments we need to make for the charity event.

  “How was your flight?” I ask, barely resisting the urge to pepper him with more questions before he can answer the first one.

  He’s dressed in a suit and his phone is in his hand. He slips it in his pocket and smiles, but for some reason it looks a little stiff. “The flight was fine. How is everything here?” He glances around the office. My computer monitor is framed with Post-it Notes.

  “Good. Great, even. Would you like to settle into your room?”

  “Why don’t we have my bag brought up and you can show me the auction room before I head up?”

  “Absolutely.” I don’t know how to read him right now. He’s usually so much more relaxed, although this is a significant charity event and the only other time I’ve seen him in full-on business mode was the day he sat in on my meeting with Mitchell and Tish.

  I call for the bellhop to take his bag to his room, and he falls into step beside me. I don’t love how tense things feel right now, and I don’t know how to make it better.

  I open the door to the auction room and motion for him to go ahead of me. “Selene has already been in and shifted a few auction items around, but I wanted you to have a look and give it your seal of approval.”

  His brow furrows. “Oh? When did Selene arrive? I thought she wasn’t supposed to be here until later tonight.”

  “A few hours ago. She’s on the third floor. Your room is down the hall from hers.” I wait for a reaction to that news.

  He makes a sound, one I can’t quite decipher, and then moves deeper into the room. He makes a few suggestions regarding the auction items, moving a couple of them back to where I originally had them. I show him the dining room next, expecting a comment about the centerpieces, but all he does is pick up one of the gold puffy stars on the table and flip it between his fingers. “Everything looks good.”

  “I want to ensure Spark House does the charity justice, so if there’s anything you think needs my attention, let me know.”

  “I think we’re in good shape.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at the screen. “I have a few things I need to deal with, so I should probably settle into my room.”

  “Would you like me to show you where it is?”

  “Oh no. You don’t need to worry about that. I’m sure you have lots to take care of.” He smiles, but once again it looks stiff.

  “Right. Okay. I’ll just get your keycard and meet you by the elevators?”

  “That’s perfect.”

  I leave him standing in the hallway and grab the keycard to his room and meet him at the elevator. “You’re in room 303 and Selene is in 306.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” He slides the card into his suit pocket.

  “If you need anything, you can call the front desk or text me. I’ll be here for a few more hours before I head home.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning.” The elevator doors slide open, and he disappears inside, leaving me more confused than ever.

  15

  THIS LITTLE SPARK

  LONDON

  I sleep like garbage. It’s often the case the night before an event, but even more so this time because my interaction with Jackson keeps playing over in my head.

  The last time I saw him, he admitted to wanting to date me, and since then I’ve hardly spoken to him. I understand that he’s shifted things to Trent, but I didn’t expect him to avoid me like the plague.