9
Jessica
Jack doesn’t run with me on Tuesday, but that’s only because he’s out fishing with Bob. I welcome the time alone. God knows I need it after the last two days.
He stole my breath in a way I wasn’t ready for yesterday when he told me he wanted us to be friends. Again, I should have anticipated that. It seems I’m being caught unawares all over the place here. Not something I’m used to.
I’m the girl who foresees everything that could possibly happen. It’s one of the reasons Ashton pays me a small fortune.
I predict things.
I prepare for them.
I do not let them catch me off guard.
The whole idea of being Jack’s friend again threw me. It sent me to my bedroom for hours. I worked there until nearly 8:00 p.m. when I couldn’t go a second longer without food. Jack was nowhere in sight when I came out, but I found a salad and steak he’d cooked in the kitchen.
I didn’t eat them.
I ate yoghurt with blueberries and seeds.
I also snuck one of the cookies his neighbour baked. It was delicious and I plan to eat another one today. At the rate I’m going with Jack, I may sneak the rest of them into my bedroom and not share them with him.
Ugh.
Why is it only Tuesday?
My phone buzzes with a text as I jog down the driveway at the end of my run.
Mira: What’s the possibility you could arrive earlier than planned on Saturday morning? Say, around eight?
Jessica: What’s the possibility you could clone me now so that it’s my clone who has to get up that early?
Mira: You love me a LOT, right?
Jessica: If I say yes, that means I have to agree to this, doesn’t it?
Mira: You know the answer to that.
Jessica: No, then, I do not love you at all. Not even one little ounce. Please wipe the last ten years from your memory.
Mira: I won tickets to Comic Con.
Jessica: Fuck. You win.
Mira: Will is gonna love me FOREVER for this.
Jessica: Will already loves you FOREVER. Does this mean we can skip the whole Comic Con thing? Like, if that was the only reason you were doing it and I was getting up early, we don’t need to. You unlocked that level ten years ago. That man loved you from day one. Take it from me.
Mira: I love you, babe, but Comic Con is happening xx
I take a shower and dress before eating breakfast and making coffee to begin my workday. All while thinking about Saturday. I’m not even that upset about having to get up earlier than planned. I’m fairly certain I won’t need encouragement to wake that early after this week with Jack. I’ll be more than ready to leave by then.
I work for three hours straight, the time passing in a blur of emails and phone calls to sort out the plans I’m finalising for Ashton for the two days of meetings in New York with Beckett Pearce and Jameson Fox. Both men have agreed to the meetings, but the hotel I’ve booked is giving me nothing but a headache. And since the one Ashton normally stays in isn’t available, I’m stuck with this one.
Just after eleven, I call Ashton.
“You need to buy a hotel in New York,” I say. “That would make my job a lot easier.”
“If you can pull this off, you won’t ever need to worry about that again.” He’s referring to the fact the meetings I’m organising are for him to pitch a hotel development proposal to the two men. A development that will give him not only a luxury hotel in every major city around the world, but also a major retail and entertainment outlet tied to the hotel in each city.
“Please refrain from ever using the words ‘if you can pull this off’ again. We both know I will make this happen. I actually called to check in with you on the London debacle. I think this is going to blow up.”
Ashton owns other hotels around the world, and some of the staff in his London hotel found themselves in a scandal last week that involved a UK Cabinet minister, her lover, her husband, and two hotel staff members who leaked news of her affair to the papers. Occupancy rates have plummeted due to customers lacking faith in the hotel’s ability to maintain privacy. Ashton assumed it would blow over, but it hasn’t. It’s only getting worse, and I keep bringing it to his attention because I believe the situation may require his intervention. Since doing some digging, I’ve discovered we’ve got bigger staff issues there than just this.
“I’m beginning to suspect you may be right. I’ve asked Johnathon to handle it.” Johnathon’s the guy we use worldwide for these sorts of things. He’ll go in, assess the landscape, and report back to Ashton with his suggestions for staffing. He’s one of the best in the business, so this puts my mind at ease.
“Good.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“How’s Jack?”
“Jack’s fishing.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“I asked the wrong question. How are you?”
“I’m not fishing, and that is the best part of today.”
“Perhaps you could send him out fishing every day.”
“You don’t have many good ideas, Ashton, but I’m putting this one in that category.”
“Keep me in the loop.”
We end the call and I get back to work for another hour before breaking for lunch.
I’m almost finished with my chicken salad when I hear a helicopter. It sounds like it’s directly overhead. When it doesn’t leave, I head outside to see what’s going on.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why it’s here. Not when I spot the photographer in it.
Shit.
I knew that disguise I put on Jack when we went shopping in Grafton on Sunday wasn’t enough to stop locals from recognising him.
Hurrying back inside, I grab my phone and check my emails for any new Google alerts on him. There’s nothing, but I know it’s coming, and I’m angry there’s nothing I can do to stop it. This part of Jack’s life isn’t something I can help him with, and I feel incredibly frustrated that there’s not one thing I can do right now to stop this happening.
When I hear the sound of vehicles and then people out the front fifteen minutes later, as well as that damn chopper still circling, I stalk out there to give them a piece of my mind.
Jack doesn’t deserve to have his privacy invaded like this, and fuck them for thinking they’re entitled to this piece of him.
10
Jack
The first thing I see when I come home from fishing is the fucking chopper. I see that from a distance. Then, I see the vans and throng of reporters and photographers. Then, I see Jessica amongst it all, being manhandled while cameras film her, and I fucking see red.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I ignore all the questions they shout at me, keeping my focus completely on Jessica who is currently telling a guy off. Not that I can hear what she’s saying, but I recognise the expression on her face, and it’s the one that signals her intense anger.
“What makes you think you have the right to set foot on private property?” she demands as I draw closer, her shoulders squared like she’s ready for battle, her eyes flashing with fury.