Page 58 of When Glitter Meets Gold

23

JACK ‘J’

Agirl doesn’t just get over a man yelling at her.Sara’s words play over in J’s mind as he sits on a tall stool in Midas the morning after his launch party. He knows he didn’t reallyyellat her. But he also knows his tone and behavior all round sucked. One thing was clear, he’d gone too far with Sara last night. And he fucking hated that.

She’d partially forgiven him; the way she’d submitted to the kiss was proof. But then she’d also punished him too, reminding him of what it felt like to have his cock wedged against her. Making him think about what it might feel like to be pressed between her legs… She’d taunted him with the image, let him know she’d been thinking about it too.

From the moment she opened her eyes in Maine and screamed in his face, he knew she was going to be the death of him. Every time she challenged him or gave him sass only drew him closer to her. She’d kept him on his toes on the trails and now she was doing it again. She was full of life, spoke back to him and wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself.Everything about her was high fucking maintenance. And he loved it.

Now she wouldn’t accept his apology unless he showedher he was worth it. She’d no doubt been given empty promises by idiots over the years and now wouldn’t waste her time unless she was sure a man could deliver. He’d fucking deliver. There was no doubt in his mind he would.

He could send her flowers, take her to whatever restaurant she wanted, but that was stuff any guy could do. That was minimum requirement shit. He had to figure something out, offer her something she couldn’t get anywhere else. Show her why he mattered.

He opens his laptop, groaning into the emptiness of the bar because,fuck, when the hell did she get so deep under his skin? How had he gone from accepting he’d never see her again to planning all the different ways he could impress her?

There wasn’t time to think about the logic of it all, only time to act.

He sits up straighter, placing his big hands over the keyboard. He pulls up the guestlist from the other night, scrolls until he finds Sara, until he finds the company she’s attached to.

Then for the next hour, he does some homework, and becomes acquainted with a high performing app calledStreet Bandit.It doesn’t take long to figure out why they made it onto the guestlist at his party. The company’s growth is monumental. Not to mention, he could do with their help if they were open to it… The fact that Kandi was attached to the company put a wrench in things, sure, but he isn’t about to let her intimidate him.

It isn’t long before a plan begins to materialize in front of him. Mixing romantic feelings with work was a risk, but hehad a feeling Sara would like what he had to say. She didn’t strike him as the type to shy away from an opportunity when it presented itself. The risk was worth it.

She was pissed he’d hidden his identity from her, was no doubt confused as hell by thisJ Vandenbergpersona, but what if he showed her exactly what it meant to be him? What if she could witness first hand the company he was so proud of and all the good it did? Would letting her see how he runs things be enough to tempt her into a date at the very least?

There was one way to find out. He’d find a way to schedule a meeting without her knowing. He’d deal with her sass and let her lay into him for showing up at her office. Then, he’d let her decide. Leave the ball in her court.

It was a risk, but he was starting to realize she was the kind of girl you lost your head for.

24

SARA

The moment I hit the submit button, I squeal with delight and kick my feet beneath my boss’s desk. “I did it!”

Walter eyes me somewhat distastefully, and I get a flashback to the more familiar way he used to look at me. Like I was more interested in the sparkly pen I pressed to my notebook than the information I wrote with it.

“I mean,” I say in a more somber voice. “I did it.” Walter nods. “Thank you for putting me forward for this promotion, this means so much to me.”

Instead of dishing us our notice like I thought he would when he learned how our team single-handedly caused the Vandenberg Group’s CEO to lose his cool in front of hundreds of people, Walter had praised us.

When people discovered innocent employees of a food app were the ones on the receiving end of Jack’s outburst, it caused a spike in downloads and generated an influx of new business over the weekend that we’ve barely had time to process.

Now here I am, submitting my application for thepromotion because Walter encouraged me to not only put myself forward, but also insisted on watching while I did so.

“That hike was the best idea you’ve had,” he says. “It’s like you’ve come back rejuvenated with a fresh lease of life. Keep those smart ideas coming Kirby.”

I begin to tingle inside because this feels like the moment I could tell him about oneveryspecific idea I’ve been waiting to share with him. I want to tell him how creative and resourceful I can be, and that sparkly pens and shrieking outbursts are just part of my package, part of my process.

My entire body is tense as my hand slips into the small pocket of my yellow tweed blazer where I feel the squares of note cards I’ve held onto all day until I worked up the nerve to discuss my pitch.

“Is there something else?” He raises an eyebrow while gathering his things.

“Actually, yes. I wanted to put forward an idea. I believe it’ll support my application and put me in a strong position when I interview,” I say, doing my best to ignore the fact he’s still gathering his things and preparing to leave.

“Oh?” He continues to pack up.

I swallow. “We turn away a lot of potential business. The volume of enquiries we’re getting from restaurants after the Midas incident only highlights that.”

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