Page 74 of When Glitter Meets Gold

A giant tray of sushi arrived just as he got the set-up of the lounge in order. Sara collected it from downstairs, grinning with delight as she climbed onto the pillows and throws J had tossed on there to make her more comfortable.

Having Sara amongst his things felt natural. He liked her inspecting his books and photography and wearing his clothes. Everything she did made him a softer, more relaxed version of himself.

It’d happened at Midas too. He was surrounded by riches and fame, otherwise known as his friends and colleagues. Yet the only person he’d felt truly comfortable and normal around was her.

He still felt terrible about the whole misunderstanding in his bar.

“How’s your friend?” J asks, straightening his legs in front of him as he admires how huge the sofa is. He crosses one ankle over the other as he adds, a little guiltily, “The one who had the bar stool accident.” He keeps one hand on his stomach, and one lazily behind his head.

Sara speaks around her chopsticks. “You mean Amber? She’s fine, forgotten about the whole thing. Oh, but she feels really bad about the whole statue incident.” Sara makes a throw up gesture, causing him to smirk. Then she sighs. “I guess that was the icing on the cake for you that night. It would have pissed me off too, I suppose.”

“No,” J says firmly. “It wasn’t Amber. It was…the word Drew threw at me.” He inhales deeply, deciding that since she trusted him enough to eat sushi on his sofa in his boxer briefs after he’d sucked her pussy until she saw stars, then he could trust her with the truth of that night.

“What word?” Sara asks as she stuffs a cucumber roll in her mouth.

“A word I shouldn’t react to, but I do,” he says, shrugging. He draws in a long breath. He asked for honesty, he had to give it back. “I told you about my father, how he was an asshole. Well, it went beyond that. He was calculating and cruel. Loved to intimidate us. Some kind of power status thing.” J wants to frown hard at the memory but manages to keep a neutral expression. “I hear the word bully, I think of him. I guess when I heard Drew use that word, then direct itatme, I lost it. It’s not like I can explain all that to the tabloids.”

Sara’s eyeing him with a look he can’t figure out. Is it sadness, or something else?

“I’m not using that as an excuse, I know I acted like a dick. I’m just letting you know that’s why it happened.”

Sara sets down her chopsticks and pushes the tray onto a low table next to her. She curves her body toward him, legs tucked underneath her. She rests her elbow on the back of the sofa, propping her head in her hand. She’s taken out the pigtails, and now her waved hair spills down past her shoulders. With her free arm, she reaches for J’s hand that rests on his stomach.

His first thought is to pull away, because that look she’s wearing is a lot like sympathy, and he’s not about to accept that from anyone.

He doesn’t move, however, because when he angles his head to look at her, he can see there’s zero pity in her rich,hazelnut eyes. Only determination. To do what, he’s not sure. Which is why he lets her squeeze his hand without snatching it away.

“I only met him a handful of times,” she says, delivering him a strong look that tells him he better listen up. “But from what I’ve seen so far, you’re nothing like your father.”

It sends a chill down his spine.Don’t squeeze her hand, idiot.Don’t let her know you felt that right in your dumb, fucking heart.

He swallows thickly.

“Also,” Sara chirps, letting him go abruptly and going back to the sushi. “Speaking of Midas, I heard you made it not for profit, but you’ve hardly shared the details of where the money’s going. Why?”

He reclines further into the sofa, crosses his arms over his chest, biceps spilling from the sleeves of the T-shirt, forearms thick and lean.

A long sigh huffs out of him. “If I shout about it, I figure certain people will ask things like ‘What does he know?’and I don’t want anything to rock the boat.”

Sara’s frowning. Looking at him like she looked at her boss that day when she rolled her eyes.Don’t look at me like you looked at that jerkoff,he wants to say to her, but he’s smart enough to wait and see where she’s going with such an offended look.

She points another cucumber roll at him with her chopsticks. “Fuck what people say, Jack,” she shrieks before stuffing it in her mouth. “Are they the ones doing the charity work? Are they the ones busting their ass to help people?” She chews violently.

“Probably not.” J laughs at her outburst. He can’t stop staring at her because that look she had in her eyes, the onewith a little anger, but mostly passion, is the sexiest thing he’s witnessed on another person.

“Of course they aren’t.” She huffs. “So, are you going to tell me? About the charity?”

He blows out his cheeks. “You really want to know?”

“I really want to know.”

“Alright,” he says with determination. “It’s a charity, but also not a charity.” It comes out so confidently, he carries on before he loses his nerve. “It’s a program. For single parents.” Sara nods encouragingly. “Any parent, from any background who finds themselves alone or in need of support changing their job, getting employment, learning new skills, going to college, or finding childcare while they study. All of it. The Vandenberg Group will provide assistance until they reach their goal or gain whatever qualification they need.” He stops for air, but he’s not done. The words continue to flow, a gushing, broken tap of confession and liberation.

“My mom worked three jobs after my dad left. Dead end, thankless jobs just so we could eat and feel like normal kids. He wouldn’t let her work when they were married. Then he left us with nothing and left her vulnerable.” He swallows thickly, his head angling away from her, even though he knows she’s watching his every tick and move. “She passed before she could see the life I’ve built now. I couldn’t help her back then. Mowing lawns and washing every car in the neighborhood just wasn’t enough. If I’d been in the position I am now, then maybe…” He trails off. “Anyway, the program will help people like her.”

He's done. He’s spilled several truths about himself and now he’s afraid to look Sara in the eye. Afraid he’s been too vulnerable, afraid he’s shared too much of the dark past she probably had no idea existed.

“You were just a kid, Jack.” Her soft voice catches him from whatever gloomy place his mind was travelling to. “You did the best you could, and your mom would have known that.”

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