As I pull into the empty lot of the club, nerves crawl up my spine.
I should warn her about Hayao.
About the conversation we had yesterday and how I shared more than I should have.
I’d planned to come back alone today. Maybe bring Arnon. Or even Darren.
But I already overstepped by agreeing without consulting Jess. If I’d signed a permanent contract without even telling her, that would’ve been plain disrespectful.
And she would’ve been right to call me out on it.
I can’t keep pretending this is just business. Not when everything between us feels this fragile. One wrong move and it’s not just an argument, it’s proof. Proof that we don’t function as partners anymore.
I have a feeling she knows something’s off. The way she dismissed me so coolly this morning… it scared the crap out of me.
Not talking to her all this time has sucked. I told myself I needed space. Told myself it was healthier than exploding every other day. But space has a way of turning into distance if you’re not careful.
And I’m starting to wonder if I let it stretch too far.
Jess is my best friend.
I’ve tried compensating, hanging out with Darren, grabbing drinks with Arnon, but no one replaces her.
No one ever could.
I park and kill the engine. For a second, neither of us moves.
I reach for the door handle, but before I can open it, Jess puts a hand on my forearm.
“Logan.”
“Yeah?” I say, silently pleading with my eyes for her to tell me what’s wrong.
But she just shakes her head. “Nothing.”
Then she opens her door before I can push. We walk toward the entrance in silence. The huge black doors are unlocked.
Jess notices immediately. The slight tightening of her jaw tells me she doesn’t like it.
Neither do I.
As soon as we step inside, she shifts into work mode.
“That corner,” she says, pointing and taking pictures with the work tablet
I nod.
She walks further in. “We can put infrared cameras at the secondary entrance. And the stairwell is completely exposed.”
She’s moving confidently now, assessing angles, entry points, flow.
This is completely my lane. I can talk about possible threats and hidden cameras in my sleep.
But right now?
All I can focus on is how professional she sounds. How competent. She’s pointing out things I missed yesterday.
And instead of feeling threatened, I feel… proud.
