I let out a soft laugh. “It’s a little less tragic, a lot more exhausting.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“My dad’s a politician. My mom… well, she’s a politician’s wife. Perfect house, perfect smile, perfect judgment. I don’t think she’s gone a single day in the past couple of years without reminding me how much better everything would be if I’d just follow in her footsteps.”
He smirks faintly. “Is that why you moved to Deep Cove? To get away?”
“Yeah,” I say, exhaling. “Moving and taking the job at Cove was one of the first decisions I made that was just for me. I didn’t ask for anyone else’s approval; I didn’t care about anyone else’s expectations. My mom is…not happy about it, to say the least. But my sister and her husband support me. Cara and I are really close,” I say. “She’s three years older than me. Everything about our parents always felt performative—always putting on a show, trying to impress people. But Cara is just real.”
Jesse stretches an arm across the back of the couch, shifting to look at me. “You talk to her a lot?”
“All the time,” I say, smiling. “Her husband Ryan is like a big brother to me. When I couldn’t take my parents any longer, they offered to let me move in with them. They have a little girl, Marigold who’s three months old and is the sweetest thing on the planet. I miss her the most now that I’m two hours away from them.”
“Sounds like they’re good people.”
“The best,” I agree. “I’d do anything for them. I don’t know what I would have done without Cara. I just wish we were closer to our parents, that their love didn’t come with so many strings attached.”
“Strings?”
“Expectations,” I correct. “My mother thinks my entire life should be a PR strategy for an election campaign. When I told her I wanted to work in marketing, she looked at me like I said I wanted to join the circus.”
“Well, itismarketing,” Jesse quips, breaking the tension a little.
“Fair point.” I grin, taking another sip from my champagne flute.
“Sounds like they put a lot of pressure on you.”
I nod. “After my sister married Ryan, who isn’t in politics, their dreams all fell on me. They had this vision of introducing me to the son of a senator. Someone who looked good on paper and could fit right into my father’s world. And I would learn to keep a house, plan dinner parties. Be the kind of supportive wife people talk about in their holiday speeches.”
Jesse exhales, shaking his head. “Sounds suffocating.”
“It is,” I admit. “But it’s all they know. They’ve lived their entire lives that way.”
“Sounds like we both figured out how to survive our families.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Except you built an empire.”
He smiles at that, slow and a little lopsided. “You built something too,” he says, voice quieter now. “I’ve seen the way you work, Mads. You are incredible at what you do. You have fresh ideas. You build trust. You build people up.”
The sincerity in his tone steals my breath for a second. “You’re not bad at that yourself.”
His grin widens. “Careful. Keep complimenting me and I’ll start thinking you actually like me.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling too. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
He tips his head, considering what I just said. “Wouldn’t hate it.”
There’s a beat—quiet, but full—and the air between us hums with the champagne, the honesty, the closeness. My pulse stumbles when he reaches for the empty bottle and sets it aside, his sleeve brushes mine. “We should probably open that second one,” he says.
I laugh. “That’s probably a terrible idea. You’re my boss, Jesse. Pretty sure we’re breaking a lot of rules here.”
“Most good stories start that way,” he counters, already reaching for the bottle. “Fuck the rules.”
Soon we’re both laughing too hard to care. Somewhere between Jesse confessing that he tanked his first big lead at Cove by butchering the client’s name the entire time and my mortifying admission that I once gave a mock presentation during an interview with two feet of toilet paper hanging out the back of my skirt, the second bottle of champagne disappears.
The food sits mostly untouched on the table between us, the room warm with city lights and the soft buzz of alcohol. Ican’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed, this…unguarded.
Jesse leans back against the sofa, glass dangling from his fingers, that crooked smile pulling at his mouth. “I think we should test out that jacuzzi,” he says, glancing toward the corner of the suite. “It’s been tempting me all night. You can’t just let a jacuzzi go unused, isn’t that one of life’s unwritten rules?”
