It always gets worse after something good.
If data ruled my life, then this was the proverb inscribed on the hallowed halls of my temple to data. It didn’t matter what I did, how good I was, how much I tried, how many people I helped.
Good was always followed by bad.
And the higher I rose, the worse the bad got.
My stomach churned, knees feeling weak as my mind deflected this truth, hesitant to accept it.
I’d gotten something really good recently.Toogood. Jessa Walton was the brightest good I’d ever let into my life, and I’d done it against my better judgment.
And really, I had known better. Yet I’d still let it happen.
My only recourse was to stem the flow before things ballooned too far in either direction. Because they would balloon. That much was certain.
Only time would tell how much worse things would get from here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DAMIAN
Backing off was the best recourse.
But that needed to happen slowly. I couldn’t rush into it. I needed to wean myself off Jessa, which meant inviting her over to the penthouse Tuesday night after work.
She came to work that morning prepared with her overnight bag, and once most of the office had left for the day, we both took the private elevator up to the penthouse.
I hadn’t told anyone about Ian’s visit. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Axel would only get angrier at Trace, and I wanted to forget about the what-ifs and oh-nos.
The best way to disconnect was through Jessa. And if I needed to be backing off soon, that meant my time limit with her was approaching rapidly.
I needed to enjoy this while I could.
Up in the penthouse, I had dinner waiting for us, a menu I’d put together for Butch to prepare. Jessa’s eyes went wide as we moved through the kitchen where Butch was hard at work over steaming pots and crackling oil in sauté pans.
“What is all this?” she breathed.
“Dinner,” I said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the sideboard. The shrimp cocktail awaited us, as I’d specified that morning when Butch and I went over the plan. “Here’s our appetizer.”
I picked up a shrimp by its tail, winking at her.
She gasped, bringing a hand to her chest. She’d worn a high-necked black dress with a seventies twist and big earrings to match. Yet another dress to add to my favorites list, though the list was near bursting by now.
“Shrimp cocktail? Damian Fairchild, you dreamboat.”
“In honor of our first formal event together,” I said, dipping the tail in cocktail sauce. “When you were enamored by the shrimp being passed out by the waitstaff.”
She grew still, watching me with a look so tender it almost tore my heart in two.
“You remember that?”
I laughed, taking a bite of the shrimp. “Of course I remember that. It was the cutest fucking thing I’d ever seen.”
She blinked rapidly. “I didn’t know you thought so much about me back then. You ghosted me that night.”
I dropped my chin, searching out her addictive gaze. When those crystal silver-blues homed in on me, everything was right in the world. Like a jolt of calm. “I had to. I was trying not to fuck my new hire. Not to mention my childhood best friend’s little sister.”
The coy smile on her lips had me ready to take her to the bedroom. “I don’t think Jeremy would be mad anymore. We’re all adults.”