She saw little of the CEO directly. Their interactions limited to formal meetings where he maintained scrupulous professionalism. Three weeks after her promotion, Rebecca was working late, reviewing contracts for a major acquisition when a knock came at her new office door. Jackson stood in the threshold, his suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms.
Still here? He asked, leaning against the door frame. Where’s Penny tonight? Sleepover with her cousin. Rebecca set down her pen, suddenly aware of the late hour and their solitude on the otherwise empty executive floor. I’m taking advantage of the rare freedom to catch up. He nodded, understanding in his eyes.
Have you eaten? The question caught her off guard. I had a granola bar around 6:00. That’s not dinner. Come on. He straightened. There’s a Thai place around the corner that stays open late. Rebecca hesitated. Jackson, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s just food, Rebecca. His expression remained carefully neutral.
Between colleagues. Against her better judgment, she found herself agreeing. 20 minutes later, they sat in a quiet booth in the back of a tiny restaurant, the rich scents of lemongrass and curry surrounding them. Away from the office, some of the tension between them eased as they discussed manuscripts and industry gossip.
You’ve done remarkable work these past weeks, Jackson said as they finished their meal. The Morrison deal alone would have justified your promotion. Rebecca smiled, allowing herself to feel pride in her accomplishments. It feels good to finally have the authority to back my instincts. Speaking of authority, Jackson set down his fork, his expression growing serious.
There’s something you should know. Daniel’s been meeting with executives at Paragon Press. Rebecca’s stomach tightened. Paragon was Meridian’s biggest competitor. You think he’s giving them information? I know he is. Jackson’s voice hardened. Specifically, he’s targeting your authors, trying to convince them to break contracts and move to Paragon.
He can’t do that. The non-compete in his severance is being flagrantly violated, yes. Jackson sighed. Unfortunately, proving it requires catching him in the act, which is proving difficult. Rebecca pushed her plate away, appetite gone. The Montana Sky author called me yesterday, said she’d received a better offer but wouldn’t say from whom.
That fits the pattern. Jackson reached across the table, briefly touching her hand before withdrawing. I’m sorry to burden you with this, but I needed you to know what we’re up against. The simple gesture of his hand on hers lingered like a brand. Rebecca forced herself to focus on the business threat, rather than the confusing pull she felt toward him.
What do we do? We fight back. Jackson’s eyes gleamed with determination. Starting with the author retreat this weekend in the Catskills. Rebecca blinked. That’s in 3 days. I can’t possibly Penny, bring her. Jackson said simply. The resort has excellent child care facilities, and this retreat is crucial for securing our relationship with key authors.
If Daniel’s making moves, we need to counter them immediately. Jackson, I can’t just Rebecca. His voice softened. I’m not asking as your boss right now. I’m asking as someone who believes in you and knows what you’re capable of. We need you there. The way he said we sent a complicated shiver through her. 3 days in the mountains with Jackson, surrounded by authors and industry people with Penny in tow.
The prospect was both exciting and terrifying. I’ll need to make arrangements, she said finally. His answering smile was worth the logistical headache she knew would follow. Friday afternoon found Rebecca and Penny checking into Lakeview Lodge, an upscale resort nestled among the autumn painted mountains. The retreat’s welcoming reception was already underway in the main hall, leaving them to navigate the check-in process alone.
I’m sorry, Ms. Walsh, but we don’t have a reservation under your name, the receptionist said with practiced regret. Rebecca frowned. That’s impossible. Meridian Publishing booked a block of rooms. I should be on the list with the other editors. The woman checked again, shaking her head. I’m showing all the Meridian rooms as assigned, but there’s nothing for Walsh.
And I’m afraid we’re fully booked this weekend with the retreat and a wedding. Penny tugged at Rebecca’s blazer. Mom, I’m hungry. You promised dinner. Rebecca felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. After a frantic day of preparation and a 3-hour drive with a restless 5-year-old, this complication was the last thing she needed.
Is there anything available nearby? Another hotel? Not within 30 miles, I’m afraid. The receptionist’s sympathetic smile did nothing to ease Rebecca’s growing panic. Leaf season is our busiest time. What seems to be the problem? Jackson’s voice came from behind her, deep and concerned. Rebecca turned to find him approaching from the reception, looking unfairly handsome in casual attire, dark jeans and a blue sweater that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.
There’s been a mistake with the reservation, she explained, struggling to maintain her professional composure. Apparently, I don’t have a room. Jackson’s brow furrowed. That’s impossible. I confirmed the bookings myself yesterday. The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly as she recognized the CEO. Mr.
Hayes, I assure you we’ve assigned all the rooms requested by your company. Perhaps there was a miscommunication. A terrible suspicion formed in Rebecca’s mind. Or perhaps it wasn’t a mistake at all, she said quietly, for Jackson’s ears only. Daniel still has contacts in administrative support. Understanding darkened Jackson’s expression. He turned back to the receptionist with renewed purpose.
What about my accommodation? I believe I’m in the Lakeside Suite. Yes, sir. The Presidential Suite with two bedrooms. Jackson nodded decisively. Perfect. Ms. Walsh and her daughter will be staying there. Please arrange for her luggage to be brought up immediately. Jackson, no, Rebecca protested once the receptionist moved away.
