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“When?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“I—ah—yes. Of course.”

“Good,” he says, his intelligent eyes registering his approval. “See you soon.” He disappears out into the hallway.

With no time for the copier, I start shooting photos of the entries, and upload them to a Dropbox folder. Once that is done, I send the link to Neil by text with a message that reads: Meeting. I have to go. This was the best I can do and I’ve read nothing but a paragraph.

Next, I text Dash: Good Luck.

He replies with: Thanks, baby. See you soon.

I text Bella the same: Good luck. Knock ‘em dead.

Thanks, sweetie, she answers. Love you.

And I love her. I swear she’s the sister I never had. One day I’ll convince Dash to tell her everything about his brother. Once he’s dared to tell us both everything, he’ll know we both love him unconditionally, and he’ll be closer to healing.

Setting that thought aside, for now, I quickly gather my things and walk to Katie’s office, to find her behind her desk working. “I’m going to drinks with Jack and some client. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good. Wow, you’ve really filled Allison’s shoes now. I told you she was up and coming here. She got Jack’s attention as well.”

“Yes, well, it’s not well-timed, but it sounds like the client wants to work with Riptide and that will make my real boss in New York a happy man.”

“Good luck,” she says. “Text me and tell me about it.”

“I will.” I hurry down the hallway and find Jack at the elevator waiting on me.

“Ready?” he asks as the elevator door opens.

“I am,” I say, and I step onto the car with Jack following.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Once we’re in the elevator, Jack gives me a rather intimate inspection. “You look professional and pretty, Allie. I’m sure you’ll get our client’s attention.”

Feeling awkward about the compliment I quickly reply in a professional tone, “I’m hoping it’s the services Hawk Legal in partnership with Riptide can offer that gets their attention.”

“Oh, we will,” he says. “I have a feeling we’re headed toward a beautiful partnership.” The doors open at the lobby. “And it’s okay to enjoy the compliment. It’s human to enjoy being found pretty.”

My awkwardness expands but I manage a pleasant, “Thank you,” because I don’t know what else to say, and since I want off this topic, I quickly step forward. Once we’re in the garage elevator, I ask, “Who’s the client we’re meeting?”

“A big music producer named Nelson Miles. He’s behind most of the top names in country music. The ones on our list, at least, and those are the ones that count.” He winks.

That wink does not feel the way it does when Dash winks at me. It feels uncomfortable and I’m thankful the door opens. Jack holds the door for me since it has the rapid shut mechanism. I exit and he motions to a black Mercedes. He’s a gentleman and opens my door for me, but I swear he looks at my legs as I slide them into the passenger area. I’m really regretting riding with him.

The car smells new and seems to have about every extra that can possibly be made. The seats are black leather, the heater warm, and the music playing a holiday tune. Once he joins me, he cranks the car, and pulls us outside the parking garage. The sun is beginning to set along Nashville’s downtown skyline, and while I focus on it, Jack glances over at me. “I hear you decided to stay on with Riptide instead of Hawk Legal,” he says, and suddenly I feel like I’m in a trap designed to change my mind.

“It’s the best of both worlds.”

“What do they do for you that we cannot?”

“I made some close connections there. Mrs. Compton, the founder of Riptide, is like a second mother.”

“Do they pay you well?”

“Yes,” I say. “Very well.”

“Bonuses?”

“Yes,” I confirm.

“How much will you get for this sale tonight if you close it?”

“A generous amount,” I reply simply.

“What if I match it and add ten percent?”

“Your son already generously made that offer.”

“My son isn’t me.”

No, I think. He’s not. Jack has an easy confidence. Tyler’s is more arrogant and reserved, but it’s also more wounded, more human than I once thought. “No. But he’s someone I’ve gotten to know well.”

“How well?”

“Well enough to know he’ll do right by me.”

“As will I,” he promises, glancing at the gas tank. “And we need gas.” He turns into the gas station and pulls to the pump. “Give me a moment.”

Feeling anxious, I try to occupy my mind, pulling up the photos I took for Neil and starting to read a random image toward the front of the journal. He complimented me, made me feel beautiful. Made me feel that it was okay to need to feel beautiful. Don’t we all need to feel beautiful? After being rejected, I was vulnerable, seeking validation. I think I was weak. I know I was weak. Had I just backed away from this, it never would have gone where it went.


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