Page 3 of The Valentine Agenda

James took a slow sip of his eighteen-year-old scotch. The Baron's Club was exactly the kind of place he needed tonight—exclusive enough that he wouldn't run into anyone who'dask awkward questions, dark enough to hide any cracks in his carefully maintained facade.

"Trevor Martinez," James repeated, the name bitter on his tongue. "Wasn't he at that fundraiser last month?"

"The one where Vanessa wore that red dress?" Mike signaled the bartender for another round. "Yeah, they were talking by the silent auction. Guess now we know why."

The scotch wasn't helping. Neither was the realization that while he'd been bidding on a weekend in Wine Country, his plus one for the evening had been laying groundwork for her exit strategy.

"You know what you need to do, right?" Mike leaned in, his tie loosened just enough to suggest after-work drinks without looking sloppy. "Show her she made a mistake."

James scoffed. "She made her choice."

"Since when do you let other people control the optics?" Mike's voice had that familiar edge, the one that had gotten them both in trouble and out of it since business school. "The James Park I know doesn't lose. Especially not to Trevor Martinez."

"I didn't lose," James said automatically, but the words felt hollow. The image of Vanessa burned in his mind. He should have been the one to end things. Should have noticed her pulling away. Should have—

"Exactly. You didn't lose." Mike's grin had a predatory edge. "So don't let her write the ending. Show her what she's missing. Make her regret walking away."

"How?" The scotch was definitely starting to help now. "She's made it pretty clear she's moved on."

"Please." Mike pulled up Vanessa's post again. "This? This is a performance. She's showing you she can replace you. So show her she's replaceable too."

James frowned. "I'm not interested in dating right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" Mike scrolled through James's phone. "You need someone to make her jealous. Someone unexpected. Someone who makes her wonder if she ever really knew you at all."

"That sounds complicated."

"No, complicated is letting Trevor Martinez steal your girlfriend and your contacts at First National." Mike paused on a photo from the building's recent newsletter—some community event James vaguely remembered avoiding.

Mike placed two fingers on the screen and spread them to zoom in on a figure in the photo. "What about her?"

James squinted at the image. The woman from the lobby—the one always tidying things. She was surrounded by elderly residents, helping with some kind of craft project, her smile wide and unpolished. Too broad, almost. Nothing like Vanessa's artful social media poses.

"The superintendent?"

"She's not the superintendent, you idiot. She just lives in your building. Exactly the kind of sweet, community-minded girl Vanessa would never expect you to date."

"I don't even know her name."

"Perfect." Mike's grin widened. "That makes it even better. The untouchable James Park, dating the girl next door. It'll drive Vanessa crazy, wondering what she missed about you."

James stared at the photo. The woman had nothing like Vanessa's polished glamour. He'd seen her around, always busy with some project or resident. She'd probably be easy to convince—she already smiled at him every morning, even though he rarely acknowledged it.

"Valentine's Day is next week," Mike continued, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "Nero's would be the perfect place to be seen. I hear Trevor has a standing reservation."

James should say no. Should recognize this for the terrible idea it was. But the scotch was expensive, his pride was wounded, and the image of Vanessa laughing with Trevor Martinez burned like acid in his chest.

"You really think it would work?"

"Trust me." Mike signaled for their check, his expression satisfied. "By the time you're done, Vanessa will realize exactly what she threw away. And the best part? This girl's so nice, she'll probably thank you for the free dinner."

James looked at the photo again. She was nothing special, but that didn't matter. One dinner, one public appearance, one well-placed reminder to show Vanessa she hadn't won.

"I'll think about it," he said.

Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the James Park I know. Take control of the narrative."

Later, in the back of his car service, James pulled up the building's newsletter again. Hannah Miller, the article said. Third-grade teacher. Volunteer coordinator for the senior residents' program.

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