I sit down and pat the seat next to me. “I love you and want you to find whatever you’re looking for. But you can’t push it, Lola. You’re young, not even thirty yet, and have so much life ahead of you. You’ll find the one, I promise. You’re worth someone extraordinary. Don’t force it, don’t settle. When you least expect it, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
She cuddles up next to me, and I wrap her in a tight hug.
“That was wise advice from someone who is usually more cynical about love,” she mumbles.
“I’m not cynical. I’m realistic. I’m not in search of some grand love story. Would it be nice? Of course. I’ve always wanted it. However, if I end up surrounded only by my friends and family, I’ll be happy with that too. I don’t need anything else to be fulfilled.”
“I wish I was that confident.”
I tutted, pursing my lips, annoyed she would say such a thing. “You are confident, and I love that you’re searching for what makes you happy. Just because happiness looks different for everyone doesn’t mean you’re wrong. I don’t want you to force it or talk down on yourself.”
She sits up, shaking out of her current slump. “You’re right, and I’m sorry for pouring this all on you right before you leave. Are you all ready?”
“Never be sorry, and I am ready. Wills is sending a driver to get me since John is picking up Jack on the other side of town in about”—I glance at my watch—“five minutes, so raincheck on the tea, but I’ll see you in a week, and we’ll have the best time in Paris. I’ll treat you to a new bag as a special bonus.” I pull her in for another hug. I know it’s only a week, but Lola is part of my everyday routine, and I’ll miss her.
“You’re not buying me another purse and calling it a bonus. You already overpay me.”
“I’m the boss, and I’ll decide when I give a bonus or not.” I kiss her cheek and squeeze her tight one more time.
Sometimes I can’t help but treat her like the little sister I never had, spoiling her like crazy.
“I’ll be okay running everything, right? I don’t think you’ve been out of the office this long and left me in charge.”
I narrow my eyes, confused. “I leave you every summer when I go on my girls’ trip with Sadie. What are you going on about?”
“That’s different. The office is practically a ghost town. Everyone, including our clients, is on holiday for a whole month.”
“I’m not even entertaining this conversation. We already know you’re the brains and I’m the beauty of this operation,” I say, laughing when her eyes bug out.
Putting one hand on her hip and narrowing her eyes, she says, “Are you saying I’m not pretty?”
I slowly exit the office, trying to hold back my smile. “Nope. I’m just saying I’m prettier,” I yell and run back to my office, dying of laughter when I hear Lola’s shrieks.
She knows I’m kidding, but I knew I would get her out of her head if I said it.
Now… if I could only get out of my own head about my upcoming flight with Jack, that would be helpful.
* * *
Why am I nervous right now?
I cross my legs, then uncross them just as fast, wringing out my hands to try and expel some of my nervous energy as I watch Jack jog down the tarmac toward the jet.
He’s in a fitted navy-blue suit, tie gone, and his crisp white shirt is unbuttoned enough that his tan, muscular chest peeks out with every swift movement. Simply watching him move toward me is causing my heartbeat to do that dumb pitter-patter rapidly against my chest, wondering what’s in store for us today.
Walking up the small set of steps with his usual swagger, I can’t take my eyes off him.
Not that I usually can. I’ve always had a strong pull toward Jackson Peters that can’t be explained.
He ducks his tall frame through the door, instantly searching for our usual seats, and when our eyes meet, he pops those dimples and shoots me a cheeky wink.
Our eyes don’t waiver, and the ferocity of his passion seeps out as he strides over to me.
He’s already so intense.
“My beautiful B.” He leans down, kissing me on the tiny spot where you’re unsure if it’s your cheek or lips he’s aiming for. “What’s wrong?” He reaches up and smooths the tense lines creasing my face.
The words don’t come after he calls me his.Mybeautiful B. Jack has always had a way with words, but the “my” part is undoubtedly new.
