Page 100 of When Glitter Meets Gold

Sara’s jaw hangs, her hands rise to her mouth to conceal her look of disbelief. “What the fuck? I can’t believe this. Did you give her the money?”

“I wanted to,” J replies. “When someone makes those kinds of accusations you just want the whole thing to go away.”

“So, what happened?”

J shrugs. “I stepped on a plane and got lost in the wilderness.”

Sara freezes. Her entire face is the portrait of confusion before realization dawns. “That’s what you were doing in Maine?” He shrugs, which only makes her gasp. “That’s why you didn’t trust me… You took the trip to get away from her. That’s what you were dealing with out there.” She reaches for him, her hands intertwining with his as she clutches him tightly. She’s doing that thing, making his feet touch the ground again, making him feel okay again. “And when you saw mewithher at Midas… It makes sense now.” She closes her eyes, squeezes him tighter still. Like every attempt he’d made in the beginning to keep her at arm’s length suddenly adds up. “Jack, you can’t pay her off. She’ll never stop. We have to do something, there’s no way we can let her get away with this.”

We.His chest tightens. She was making this her problem, her worry. His weight really was her weight. She was in this with him, willing to throw herself in this messwithhim.

His hands rise to squeeze her shoulders. “Hey,” he says, gently dipping his chin to map her features. “I didn’t get to the good part,” he says, watching Sara’s eyes fall to his left cheek and smile. “It’s over. The argument your friend saw earlier was the end of everything.”

Sara’s brow creases. “What do you mean?”

“During her employment, Kandi was in my office less than half a dozen times. And there are cameras. My security team has the footage.” J shrugs. “The tapes clearly show harassment…but from a slightly different angle.”

Sara tilts her head, her expression emulating someone trying to get their head around string theory. Then her eyes grow to the size of dinner plates. “Wait. Are you saying that she was the one to come ontoyou?”

“Couple of times.” J sighs. “And now it looks like she’s here to find someone else to fund her lifestyle. That’s why I had to step in. Tell her about the tapes.”

Sara steps forward, drops his hands and reaches for his face instead. She brushes her soft fingers against the side of his head.

He can finally expel that last stiff breath that’s been lodged in his throat. Sara knows the truth, no more secrets. He’d shared details about his life with her before, at his home. She didn’t react with pity, but instead made him feel like he didn’t have to keep those things buried. It felt good then, and it felt good now.

“Jack, I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this.” She continues to stroke his face.

“It’s done,” he says. “She’s being taken care of.” Sara’s eyes widen. “And before you say it, no assassins will be involved.”

She appears to relax, then that same look of frustration from earlier is back. “I thought you were going to tell me she was the one to leak the files.” It comes out defeated, like the revelation is somewhat disappointing.

“I wish it was her,” he says, closing the distance between them. “Because it would be easier than telling you who actually went to the press.” He frowns. “I was waiting for the right moment but since he’s already an asshole for stealing your promotion?—”

“I know it was Drew,” Sara says, looking up at him with sad, round eyes.

J breathes a sigh of relief. He was dreading telling her that a so-called friend of hers was to blame. “He told you?”

She shakes her head. “I had a little help putting the pieces together.”

“Are you okay?” J asks, even though Sara’s face is showing signs of an injury she wouldn’t recover from any time soon. He wants to murder Drew for hurting her like this, but more than that he wants to take the pain from Sara, erase it completely.

“Yes,” she says in the most unconvincing tone. Then she raises her arms at her sides before letting them flop againsther hips. “In fact, no. I’m not okay. You should probably prepare for one of my famous outbursts.” She laughs humorlessly.

Frustration floods him. “Okay, stop. Those aren’t outbursts. Those are feelings,” he says watching her closely. “I wish you could see what I do,” he tells her softly, keeping his voice level and reassuring because that’s what she needed when she felt small. Reassurance. Kindness. He’d always give her those things because he loved the person she became when she received them. “That night at Midas, you were standing in the middle of the staircase, with that cocktail, necking back the whole damn lot.” He laughs. “When people passed, they gave you space because everyone noticed you. Do you know why?”

Sara shuffles, watching him hesitantly. “Because I was drunk and unpredictable?”

J laughs. “You weren’t drunk. You were alive. Confident, fearless.You weren’t afraid to take up space. You’re passionate, and you say what you feel.” He pauses, eyeing her closely again, making sure she’s taking it all in. “Don’t call your feelings outbursts. That’s not what they are. What you’re feeling is life rushing through your body. And you’re full of it.”

Something changes in the air between them. Something telling him not to spend another second out here without her in his arms where she belongs. He pulls her into him, her body molding to his chest, the perfect fit, she’d always been the perfect fit to him. He tucks her in close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You gotta trust me on that one, okay?” he says.

Her fingers travel to his stomach where she unbuttons his suit, then slides her arms around his waist, inside thejacket, stealing all his warmth. It makes him grin like a fucking moron.

“I do trust you,” she whispers. “I fell asleep in that tent because I trusted you. I climbed four damn floors to watch you help your bees because I trusted I’d be safe with you. Jack, there’s no one else I’d do that with, believe me.” They both chuckle while he slides a hand into her hair at the base of her neck. She squeezes him before she whines, “And I feel so terrible I said you weren’t my boyfriend.”

He laughs. “Kicked me right in the nuts with that one.”

---