CHAPTER TEN
jasper
The thing Jasper noticed first was that Bennett didn’t hesitate.
It was a small thing. Almost invisible. They were standing just outside the conference room, badges clipped on, coffee cooling in their hands. Familiar territory. Neutral ground. The kind of place where lines were usually kept neat and unblurred.
Someone from Bennett’s team called his name.
Bennett turned, answered a question, then did something that made Jasper’s breath catch.
He reached out and rested his hand briefly at the small of Jasper’s back.
Not possessive. Not performative.
Just there.
The gesture lasted maybe a second. Long enough to register. Long enough to be real.
The conversation continued as if nothing had happened. People moved around them. No one stared. No one cared.
Jasper did.
When they were finally alone again, Jasper tilted his head. “That was new.”
Bennett blinked, then seemed to realize what he had done. His shoulders lifted, then settled.
“I know,” Bennett said. “I noticed.”
“And.”
“And I didn’t hate it,” Bennett replied.
Jasper smiled slowly. “High praise.”
Bennett huffed. “I’m learning to speak your language.”
The conference passed without incident.Meetings went well. The Raptors pitch landed. Both approaches were approved for a joint pilot program combining Bennett’s data analytics for player performance metrics with Jasper’s creative fan engagement campaigns, exactly what their boss had hoped for. Bennett was sharp and composed, Jasper persuasive and calm. They worked together seamlessly, like the days stranded had unlocked a rhythm neither of them had expected.
Bennett pulled up the client email on his phone and showed it to Jasper. “We did it. The Raptors signed for a full season partnership.”
Jasper smiled. “We did. Together. Analytics and creative working in harmony.”
“Better than competing,” Bennett admitted.
“Much better,” Jasper agreed. “And now we have an in with one of the biggest franchises in the NHL.”
At lunch, someone from Bennett’s team asked if they were collaborating more closely now. The question was casual, curious. Not loaded.
Bennett felt Jasper’s attention shift to him. Waiting. Not pushing.
Bennett answered before Jasper could. “Yes. We are. It’s been productive.”
The conversation moved on. No one pressed. No one seemed to find it remarkable that Bennett Shaw and Jasper Quinn, longtime rivals, were suddenly working together seamlessly.
After the conference, Bennett suggested they debrief over drinks. They found a quiet bar near the office, settled into a corner booth.
“That went well,” Jasper said.
