“It’s all about perception.” She threw my words back in my face. Sam’s words, really. But they might as well have been mine.
“Yes, speaking of, in the morning, we should tell Theo.”
“But first, Sophie,” she cut in, lowering her hand to her lap. “Theo will be asleep by now. She’ll be waiting for us to get home, see this ring and lose her mind.”
“I thought you might handle that.”
Her head snapped toward me. “Excuse me?”
“I have more work waiting for me back at the office.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. There were emails piling up. Contracts to review. A call with Tokyo I’d rescheduled twice already. But the truth was messier. I needed space.
Tonight had leaned too close to reality. I had proposed like I meant it. ‘Yes’ left her lips like she meant it. It gutted me, and terrified me more than any hostile board meeting ever could.
I needed to remain in control, to pull back, to regain my footing. Remember this was only business.
“Griffin, it’s late,” she countered. “Come inside. We can tell her together, and of course we can celebrate.” Her hand settled warmly on my thigh and squeezed.
Heat hit fast and merciless. More proof I should retreat. I pulled steel into my tone. “A couple of hours, that’s all. You can handle Sophie.”
She withdrew her hand as if I’d scorched her.
We reached my building and I idled at the curb. I finally met her eyes. Hurt flickered there, then she set her chin, refusing to bend.
“Don’t,” I said, too cool. “You knew the deal. I have business to tend to?—”
“And I’m only convenient when it suits you?” she asked, blade-clean.
“For five million dollars? Yes.”
She flinched, then rebuilt in front of me with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. She opened her purse. The ring slid into it with a clink. Silence thickened between us. I adjusted my grip on the wheel, and the car turned colder.
“You’re right,” she said evenly, though her hands trembled. “Five million is a lot for a girl like me. It’s not a license to treat me like crap, though.”
“Jessa—”
“You can hide at the office tonight,” she went on. “But tomorrow I expect you to show up like the family man your board wants to buy. I will not tell anyone about us alone. We do this together or not at all. We’re partners in this contract.”
I opened my mouth. She wasn’t finished.
“There’s no switch you flip when it’s convenient, Griffin. It’s all the time, or it’s nothing.”
She stepped out, slammed the door, and climbed the steps without looking back—shoulders squared, spine straight.
I sat, engine rumbling, jaw locked—and hard as a damn rock for her.
Jessa didn’t fluff my ego. She didn’t shrink. She shoved back and called me out. Every line she drew, made me respect her more. Want her more. A bad combination for desire.
“Fuck.” I forced myself to drive away.
She was right. I couldn’t bark orders at a woman like her and expect her to perform. I also couldn’t make a single misstep, or get caught playing anything less than a devoted fiancé, sunup to sundown.
The past suddenly reared up. I once held that kind of deep devotion for real, to Elsa, and did everything I could to be the man she needed. Look how that turned out for me.
Devotion had a price tag, and I’d paid it in full through the divorce. After that, I locked away my heart, buried it beneath rigid schedules and control. But with the IPO looming, I had nochoice—I’d play the devoted man to Jessa and keep my walls up high, no matter how much it hurt.
Dawn leakedthrough the penthouse in a pale wash. I couldn’t sleep. I’d been at my desk for an hour, eyes on documents that wouldn’t stay sharp. Every time I blinked, I saw Jessa slipping the ring into her purse. It bothered the hell out of me.
At six, I gave up on pretending to work and on pretending I didn’t care. I padded to her room and eased the ring from her bag while she slept.
