Page 28 of Fresh Tracks
Right now, I’m a few years back into his history and I can’t really pick out a pattern except that he really likes the outdoors. He’s given to charities supporting parks and forest preservation as well as places that get kids outdoors. There’s also programs that run summer camps for those in foster care. All of that makes sense given what I know about him. Those are all things I can relate to, and I already have so many ideas on how he can make a huge impact for those types of causes.
One thing that’s notably absent though is music.
Outside of the first few years, he hasn’t given to anything related to music. I did a little internet snooping and sure enough, that’s about when they stopped touring. I found headline after headline about them breaking up, which makes the timing hardly seem like a coincidence to me.
Note to self: maybe don’t ask about that though. Based onhow he answered my question after the wedding — ‘was, not is’ — I get the feeling it’s a thorny topic. Something about it still feels sad though.
The second, far more pressing thing I’ve realized this morning is that I still don’t quite know exactly what TJ does these days. I mean I know he got into Seattle real estate decades ago. Which — another note to self — maybe ask him more about that because he seems to be doingvery well. Between this house, his one in Bend, and how much money he plans on donating every year, I’m starting to realize he might be wealthier than people think… and it’s from more than just his Teal Tigers’ fame.
But still, I don’t know what he actuallydoes on a day-to-day basis. Like what’s a day in the life of the infamous Tommy Jacob look like?
It’s nearly lunchtime and I still haven’t seen him again since he set me up in his office. Hunger finally gets the better of me and I decide to take the risk of getting lost in this place to see if he’s around. Maybe he wants lunch with his newest coworker. Or maybe he’s at Gloria’s like he is most days getting lunch with Sutton. Who knows, maybe he’s even a horrible gossip that loves water-cooler talk.
OK, I guess this isn’t a normal first day at a new job. I'm wandering around a gazillionaire, rock band frontman’s house to see if he wants to get lunch. That might take a while to get used to.
I grew up here in Jackson, my parents only moved right before I started high school. There has always been wealth here, but all of the new mansions like this will always be a bit jarring. We grew up just down the road from here, but even just a decade ago, there definitely weren’t as many places like this.
Still, TJ has taste. The modern architecture somehow blends right into the wooded lot at the base of the ski resort. The large windows everywhere are placed just right to look out onto thegranite mountain peaks surrounding Jackson. I could get used to the views in an office like this.
Making my way down the hall, I pass TJ’s studio and the bathroom which I’ve made a point to commit to memory, when an open door right before the kitchen catches my eye. I step closer and see that the lights inside the room are on.
I don’t know what in the universe possesses me, but I quietly step toward the door and peek in. It’s clearly a home gym, a niceone.
“Hello? Anybody home?” I call into the room, but don’t hear anything. My curiosity continues to get the better of me and I walk in.
The back of the room is a wall of windows with the same stunning views, no surprise there. When I turn toward the other corner though, I freeze, dead in my tracks, taking in a different stunning view.
There’s a squat rack in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, but it’s the shirtless man busting out pull-ups with ease that I can’t look away from. I guess I know why those forearms and biceps are so damn enticing now.
I stand there for a second, shamelessly admiring the view, my head following TJ up and down with each repetition.
I’ll admit it. I’m a Goldilocks when it comes to what I find attractive in men’s builds. Too scrawny? No thanks. Too big, bulky, and defined like some vain fitfluencer? Nice, but also not my type. I grew up with two big brothers that are huge mountain men and my dad. I don’t need more of that in my life.
What I’m watching now though? This is perfection.
He’s more muscular than I thought, his lats and biceps flexing with each pull up. He’s got that just right build of sneaky muscles that I can tell are from years, decades even, of staying active and working out to stay healthy. Fit and functional. A masculine body.
OK, Josie. Hot Boss might be right.
I can literally feel my mouth go dry. That’s fine, right? Just a normal biological response to looking at this objectively attractive man.
I make the mistake of trying to look around his body into the mirror to sneak a peak of his chest and abs, but his eyes meet mine.
Shit.
I try to lift my jaw off the floor before I start drooling, just another normal biological response, right? But TJ has already seen me and I’ve been caught like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. I might as well own it, so I grin back at him.
He lets go of the bar and turns to face me, smirking, but still not saying anything. He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair away from his ear, revealing the earbuds he has in. Now I know why he didn’t hear me when I walked in.
“Hi,” I say, drawing out the syllable, knowing full well that my cheeks are probably fire engine red right now. I know he said to make myself at home and come find him if I needed anything, but I don’t think this was what he had in mind.
Now would be a good time to remind myself that yes, he’s hot, but he’s my boss. I’m also more than mature enough to keep those two things separated.
“Everything OK?” He gives me a confused look, his blue eyes flashing concern when he takes out one of his earbuds.
“Oh, yeah. I was just getting hungry and was wondering what you were doing for lunch.”
He takes out his other earbud and slips the case into the pocket of his gray joggers. The motion pulls my eyes — my stupid, slutty eyes — down to where his sweats hang perfectly off his hips.
