Who’d trusted me with his feelings. And I’d been too scared to trust him with mine.
Who saw the person I was and loved her.
Not who I could be. Not who I thought I was. Not who he could make me.
Just me.
Fuck.
Jackson hadn’t been the one missing work; that had been me. He’d never minded if I couldn’t text for a few hours or had to work late; I had.
“But how do you make it work?”
“Together usually helps.”
It didn’t matter if David was referring to work or love; it was true for both, I realized.
I was going to have to fix this.
Drying my eyes, I felt oddly renewed. Now that the cloud of melancholy had lifted, determination set in. I might not be able to fix everything with Jackson—or even have the faintest clue how to—but I could at least do the right thing by Jeff and Julie.
I stood in one clean movement, collected myself, and said, “Shall we?” before heading back into the conference room, my head clearer and my steps sure.
“Alright,” I started as soon as I opened the door. “It seems we have some work to do in the next two weeks. Jeff, I’m going to need you to provide us a list of all the people you’ve spoken with about the furniture—Jet, you work with him to collect the names of the pieces and their phone numbers and get on the phone to our delivery partner and arrange for transport to the venue on the day.” Jet was already furiously taking notes as I spoke.
“Winnie, I want you to continue to manage the hire company. Great job, by the way, and start working more closely with the caterer and bar staff to make sure that everyone is aligned. Do you feel you’re comfortable with that?” Winnie nodded enthusiastically, her smile splitting her face.
“Julie, it’s going to be a busy two weeks finalizing the launch, so I’ll have to limit any trips to you, but I’d like to come by tomorrow to collect a sample set of stock for the launch so that we can test the cocktails. I also think it would be a good idea for you both to come in next week for a tasting before the launch, of course, or I can discuss bringing the mixologist to you if that isn’t feasible.”
Julie gave me a warm smile. “Jeff and I can definitely make something work for next week, Audrey.” Although Jeff looked a little less convinced about that, he made no move to contradict her and was still smiling in my direction.
I gave a short, sharp nod. “Ok, I think that’s it for now, but we’ll make sure to keep you updated on our progress as we get closer. Before you leave today, I’d like to finalize the invoice, but after that, you’re free to head back to the distillery.”
“First, I think we should at least enjoy some of these pastries my husband made.” David said, motioning to the tray of treats before us, then, raising his coffee mug, he added, “And toast to a successful launch.”
And even though my heart was broken, I felt maybe everything could still work out alright.
33
Jackson
Iwas tired. That’s all I could think as I rolled over in bed late Saturday morning. Usually, I would have been at the gym, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. After a week of working non-stop to distract myself, I’d been left exhausted and flat.
I’d woken in the morning to the same empty bed. The same quiet apartment. Apart from one obvious thing, very little had changed in my life, yet it felt like everything had. The space I used to be happy to have to myself now felt too large.
It was missing one specific piece.
Years of being content to wake up alone after meaningless affairs now felt hollow as I remembered the joy of having someone to wake up to, someone to cook breakfast for.
I wanted to hear her laugh, light and airy. Pull her close and wrap my arms around her. I wanted all the moments outside of sex—the conversations, the kisses, the quiet.
But what could I do?
I’d laid out how I felt, and Audrey had left.
Maybe it was better this way. Clearly, the way I’d handled the interview and our fight were proof enough that I had no idea how to be in a relationship. Audrey had been right about that.
I could have saved us both a lot of pain if I’d never gone back to the bar and let her get on with her life.
