She stands on her tippy-toes and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. One I know is not allowed.
“The past is the past, Jax. Let’s just both try to move on.”
She touches the small tattoo on the inside of my arm. The one I lied and said was a Chinese symbol.
“I did some image searching to figure out what this actually says,” Izzy teases. “According to the interwebs, it’s the symbol forcourage in battles against old men.”
A chuckle rumbles out of me. This is the magic of Izzy. She can turn anything around, make any day better.
“A very handy, versatile symbol,” I say. “The artist I went to must’ve been a bit psychic. She saw me in my time of great need and gave me the tools to succeed.”
She traces the symbol with her thumb. Her pulse on my ink feels like absolution. Like she sees the part of me I’ve been trying to rewrite and decides it’s still worth something.
“Makes sense,” she says with a smile.
And all I can think isso do we.
Chapter thirty-four
Izzy
“Wherehaveyoubeenall morning?” I demand as Becca walks into our office an hour after lunch.
“Home. I got in late last night from my trip.” She sits at her desk and swivels her chair to face me. “Why are you here? I thought you were flying in this morning.”
“I did. I’m just fancy and flew straight into Wild Bluffs.”
“Ah, the benefits of fake dating a guy with a jet.”
She’s not wrong, though Jaxon’s wealth isn’t even in the top ten reasons fake dating him is turning out to be a good idea. It might even be a negative if the way he bolted from the coffee shop in Nashville is any indication of his daily life.
“I make excellent life choices,” I tease.
Becca nods. “I got your text that the meeting went well. What do you think our chances are of closing with W&R Mercantile?”
I lean back in my chair, tapping the end of my pen on my desk. “Honestly? I think they’re pretty good. Like, well over fiftypercent. I did stumble a bit when the time came to close the sale.”
Becca tilts her head and starts playing with the ends of her long hair, which she has in a curled ponytail today. “You do hate to sell.”
I groan. “I’m so awkward at it.”
“True. Remember that time someone asked you what package you thought they should go with, and you told them the best value for their money was the base offering?”
“The guy laughed and told me not to quit my day job. Which was confusing since I was doing my day job.”
She opens her laptop and starts pulling up her apps, but she waves a hand, telling me to continue. “Tell me everything. Start to finish. Business first, and then I obviously want all the details about staying in the McMansion.”
I give her the play-by-play of the meeting, and as I recount it, I can feel my smile growing.
Becca clutches her chest. “I’m so proud I might cry.”
“The only appropriate reaction.”
We both laugh, but my stomach’s still fluttery—not with nerves anymore, but with the aftershock of beingtheperson in the room. It felt…good. Empowering. Like I wasn’t just shadowing Becca anymore but finally stepping into something that could be mine.
She leans back in her chair and smiles. “So you crushed it?”
I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. “It felt like I did.”
