Page 98 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

I stare at the message, pulse ticking in my neck.

Clive & Associates. The job. The recognition. Everything I thought I wanted before it all came crashing down.

It’s redemption, served cold, classy, and tied in a bow with a corner office and my name on the door. Six figures. My own clients. National campaigns.

It’s everything I used to believe would fix everything. Everything I thought would make me feel whole again after what happened with Cash Carson, after I lost my career and nearly lost myself.

And yet… all I can see is Alessio’s face. The way he looked at me this morning like I was his entire world. How he made pancakes like it was second nature, humming off-key and shirtless in the kitchen.

My fingers hover over the screen, but I don’t type anything back.

Because for the first time, I’m not sure what I want anymore. Or maybe I do… and that’s what scares me.

Later, I grab lunch with Halie, desperate for air and someone who won’t talk to me in projected quarterly returns.

She’s already seated when I arrive, her red lipstick perfect, her sunglasses oversized.

As I sit, she peers over them and smirks. “You look like a woman who’s either wildly in love or dangerously constipated.”

“Jesus, Halie.”

“Both things can cause a similar expression.” She sips her iced tea.

I sigh. “It’s everything. The job. The offer. Alessio. I don’t know how to juggle it all anymore.”

Halie squints at me over the rim of her glass. “Wait. What offer?”

I exhale. “Clive & Associates. E texted me this morning. Said the partners are impressed with how I’ve handled the merger. They’re offering me a senior position. Big title. Big paycheck.”

Halie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Holy shit.”

“I know.” I trace the edge of the napkin with my nail. “It’s the job I used to dream about. A seat at the table. My name on the damn door.”

“And?” She leans forward.

“And I’m frozen. Because I’m not sure it’s what I want anymore. Not entirely.”

Halie narrows her eyes at me. “Let me get this straight. You’ve got the hottest man in New York in your bed and a six-figure job offer with your name on it, and you’re miserable?”

“I’m not miserable. I’m… confused.”

She twirls a straw in her drink. “So, don’t choose yet. Or choose both. Or neither. Just don’t sabotage the one good thing that’s making you feel alive right now.”

I glance down at the untouched menu, fingers curling tight in my lap.

It’s not that simple.

I want to believe I can have both.

But I’ve never known how.

***

That night, I come home to the smell of something charred and distinctly edible.

Alessio is in the kitchen, sleeves rolled to his elbows, humming along to some nineties pop music playing on his phone. He’s in a black button-up that hugs his shoulders and arms in a way that should be illegal, and somehow he’s managed to make pasta with a marinara meat sauce, though the garlic bread is scorched beyond redemption.

He's also plated some Italian pastries that look delicious.

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