I frown, pull the folder closer, and flip through myself. Names, numbers, companies. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth that reaction.
But Lizzy’s eyes don’t lie. And whatever she just saw in these pages, she’s determined to keep it from me.
6
ELIZABETH
It can’t be …
It isn’t just any company in the folder. It’s Jones Construction.
My father’s company. My brother’s job. The only steady income keeping my family afloat.
And now, right here in Jon’s potential deals, it looks like Clark M & A is circling them for acquisition.
My stomach knots. If this deal goes through, everything my father’s worked for could vanish overnight. Their hours. Their security. The legacy my family clings to.
I stare at the name until the letters swim. My cursor blinks on the contract edits Jon asked me to finish, but my hands hover uselessly over the keyboard.
How the hell am I supposed to tell my dad I’m helping the man who might gut his company? How am I supposed to keep Jon’s trust when I’m already hiding this from him?
The computer dings. Jon’s email lands in my inbox, the same documents attached. My chest squeezes. Every instinct screams to flag the page, to demand an explanation. But instead, I minimize the window, heart pounding.
I can’t tell him. And I can’t tell my family either. If they knew, they’d see me as a traitor. If Jon knew, he might see me as a liability. Either way, I lose.
The only move is to stay close. Smile. Pretend. Buy myself time to figure out what’s really happening with Jones Construction before it’s too late.
“Lizzy.”
The sound of my name snaps me upright. Jon stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame, his eyes locked on me. “How are those contracts coming along?”
Caught, I fumble for my voice. “Oh, um… just finished. I’ll email them to you.” My smile feels painted on, brittle.
“Good. Come join me while I look them over.” Not a suggestion.
I rise, legs heavy, and follow him back into his office, every nerve screaming. It’s almost laughable. Finally I have the job, the chance, the man’s attention… and it all sits on a fault line.
One wrong step, and everything cracks wide open.
He pulls the chair beside him and gestures for me to sit. Quietly, I watch as he reads through the few test contracts, and the tension in the room is thick. His jaw ticks, his throat works, his hand shifts restlessly against the desk. He’s trying to look composed, but his body keeps betraying him.
I tell myself to mirror that control. Keep quiet. Don’t let my face give me away. If I bury myself in the papers, maybe he won’t see the storm inside me.
“These look solid,” he finally says, laying the contracts flat. “I feel comfortable moving forward with the new clients if you are.”
“Of course,” I reply, short and clipped, desperate for the day to be over before my nerves give me away completely. The hours crawl. Paper after paper, his deep voice filling the room while I scribble notes. My pen scratches the page, but my head is somewhere else entirely, counting the seconds until we hit Jones Construction, dreading the moment, praying he won’t notice my silence.
What unnerves me more is his silence, too. No teasing. No sly comments. Just business.
Is he regretting last night’s kiss? The office empties around us until only the hum of the heating vents remains. Alone again, just like before. My stomach coils.
Then he clears his throat, and my head snaps up. “Alright, I can’t do this anymore,” he says, voice raw. “Did that kiss ruin the line between us? Because it’s been in my head all day, Lizzy. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
My laugh slips out before I can stop it, nervous and a little relieved. “No. Not at all. Honestly, it’s family stuff, not you. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“A little,” he murmurs.
And then he moves. His hands clamp my hips, strong, decisive, and the contact shocks me into stillness before it melts me from the inside out. My breath stumbles. The room tilts.
