Page 25 of Worth the Wait

Christine tilts her head. “Good. I’m bringing her up again because I want to make sure it gets through.”

There’s a long pause as I fold my napkin, the air between us growing heavier than it should over lemon vinaigrette and corporate gossip.

The message beneath her friendly tone is unmistakable: she knows something is happening between Jackson and me, and she's warning me that I'll be the one to pay the professional price if it comes to light.

Amanda Chen.

I’d brushed it off at the time. Told myself Christine was just being catty, performative. But twice now? There’s intent behind the repetition, and it lands with a weight I don’t want to acknowledge.

She doesn’t know anything. Not really… but still, that uncomfortable feeling sits low in my belly. The way she insinuates things, the way she lingers when Jackson and I are talking or collaborating a little too close. I’d like to think that Christine is extremely intuitive, but I know better. He and I are clearly doing a shit job of pretending there’s nothing going on.

And history doesn’t tend to favor women in these positions.

I reach for my water, throat suddenly tight. “Like I said before, I’m completely focused on making sure our clients’ needs are met and my own career.”

By the time lunch ends, my stomach is tied in knots. Christine's warnings have hit their mark, reopening all the fears I've been trying to suppress about what's developing between Jackson and me.

"So,you're a prosecutor with the DA's office? That must be fascinating."

My voice sounds hollow to my own ears as I smile at Mark across the candlelit table. He's objectively handsome—strong jawline, intelligent eyes, impeccable suit—and his résumé reads like a recruitment brochure. On paper, he's perfect. In reality, I can't stop comparing every word, every gesture to Jackson.

"Mostly, it's paperwork." He laughs, the sound pleasant but lacking the rich warmth that makes Jackson's laugh vibrate through my chest. "But occasionally we get to play the hero and put away someone who truly deserves it."

I nod, taking another sip of wine that tastes oddly flat. He's talking about a money laundering case now, something that should professionally interest me, but my mind keeps driftingback to Blake Financial's conference room and the way Jackson's fingers brushed mine when passing documents earlier today.

"And what about you?" Mark asks. "Finance law must have its own challenges."

"It does," I agree, forcing myself to focus. "Our current project involves international compliance across multiple jurisdictions. It's complex but satisfying when all the pieces fit together."

I want to add that Jackson found a brilliant workaround for the Australian regulations but catch myself. Why am I constantly bringing him into conversations where he doesn't belong?

"You seem distracted," Mark observes, his perception catching me off guard. "Bad day at the office?"

"No, not at all," I say quickly. "Just… a lot on my mind."

He studies me across the table, a knowing look settling in his eyes. "I hope I'm not overstepping, but… is there someone else in the picture?"

The directness of his question knocks the air from my lungs. "What? No, I?—"

"It's okay," he interrupts gently. "I know what it looks like when someone's heart is already taken."

Heat floods my face. Am I really that transparent? "I'm sorry," I say, embarrassment and guilt washing through me. "This isn't fair to you."

"Life rarely is," he replies with a kind smile. "For what it's worth, whoever he is, he's lucky."

The rest of dinner passes in awkward pleasantries before we mercifully agree to end the evening early. As I leave the restaurant, my mind isn't on Mark or our failed date, but on a certain blue-eyed attorney and the contract revisions waiting in my inbox.

My apartment feels emptierthan usual when I finally get home, the silence pressing in from all sides. I kick off my heels and drop my bag by the door, exhaustion weighing on my limbs after the emotional drain of the day.

I pour myself a glass of wine and open my laptop, unsurprised to find Jackson's email waiting for me. The contract analysis is impeccable—detailed, strategic, with notes tailored specifically to complement my own approach.

But it's not the professional content that makes my heart race. It's the personal touches hidden within the formal language.

Your attention to Section 4.3 was brilliant, as usual. The way you think through these complications continues to impress me, Tarryn. Such brains to go with such… absolute beauty.

And later:

I've noted areas where our approaches align perfectly—like minds finding the same path through different methods. I'd like to discuss this further when you have time, Miss Wells.

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