We can’t share a suite. It’s inappropriate. It’s a two-bedroom suite with a living area larger than my first apartment, he countered. Completely appropriate. Unless you’d prefer to drive back to the city tonight. Penny, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly perked up. Are we having a sleepover with Mr.
Magic Man? Jackson’s serious expression melted into a warm smile as he crouched to Penny’s level. Hello there, brave flower girl. I heard you might teach me some new magic tricks this weekend. As Penny enthusiastically launched into a description of the card trick she’d learned from a YouTube video, Rebecca watched the interaction with a growing sense of both gratitude and trepidation.
Jackson had just neatly maneuvered her into an arrangement that would definitely raise eyebrows among their colleagues. What worried her more was how natural it felt, the three of them together, like some kind of unit, like something she’d stopped allowing herself to want years ago. It’s settled then, Jackson said, straightening up and offering Penny his hand.
Shall we go find some dinner for this hungry magician? As they walked toward the restaurant, Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. She glanced back to find a man observing them intently from across the lobby, a man whose face she recognized instantly, despite never having met him in person. Daniel Morgan had just arrived at the retreat.
And the look in his eyes promised that her complicated weekend had just become dangerous. Don’t look now, but we have company, Rebecca murmured to Jackson as they settled at a corner table in the resort’s restaurant. She discreetly tilted her head toward the entrance where Daniel Morgan stood, scanning the room with calculated precision.
Jackson’s hardened momentarily before he composed himself. Let him watch. We have nothing to hide. Don’t we? Rebecca helped Penny with her menu, acutely aware of how this scene must appear to onlookers, the three of them like a family with Penny chattering animatedly as Jackson helped her sound out the longer words on the children’s menu.
Before Jackson could respond, a tall woman with elegantly streaked gray hair approached their table, her face lighting with genuine pleasure. Jackson Hayes, I was beginning to think you were avoiding the mingling portion of these events entirely. She turned her warm smile to Rebecca. And you must be the new editorial director I’ve heard so much about.
Rebecca Walsh, yes? I’m Eleanor Winters. Rebecca nearly dropped her menu. Eleanor Winters was literary royalty, the best-selling author who had put Meridian Publishing on the map 15 years ago. Her historical romance series had sold over 20 million copies worldwide. Ms. Winters, it’s an honor, Rebecca managed, extending her hand.
Your work on the Bedford Chronicles inspired me to pursue publishing. Eleanor waved away the formality. Eleanor, please. And who is this young lady? She asked, smiling at Penny. I’m Penny Walsh, and I know magic, the little girl declared proudly. Eleanor laughed delightedly. What a fortunate coincidence.
I’m in desperate need of some magic for my new book. Perhaps you could assist me? As Penny enthusiastically agreed, Eleanor looked between Rebecca and Jackson with shrewd, knowing eyes. You make a lovely family. How refreshing to see Meridian executives who understand the importance of balance. Before Rebecca could correct the misunderstanding, Eleanor had invited herself to join them, effectively claiming their dinner as an impromptu business meeting that kept other retreat attendees, including a fuming Daniel, at bay.
Throughout the meal, Rebecca found herself increasingly impressed by how seamlessly Jackson adapted to Penny’s presence, cutting her chicken into bite-sized pieces without being asked, and engaging her in conversation as naturally as he discussed publishing trends with Eleanor. Your daughter is absolutely delightful, Eleanor commented as dessert arrived, and quite taken with your husband, if I may say so.
Rebecca nearly choked on her water. Oh, Jackson isn’t We’re colleagues, Jackson interrupted smoothly, his eyes meeting Rebecca’s with a silent message. Though I consider myself fortunate to know both of these remarkable Walsh women. Eleanor’s expression remained skeptical, but she graciously changed the subject, turning their conversation toward her upcoming manuscript.
By the time they parted ways, she had invited Rebecca to breakfast the following morning to discuss a significant change in her publishing plans, a private meeting that would ordinarily have been reserved for Jackson himself. That was quite a coup, Jackson observed as they walked Penny back to the suite, the little girl skipping ahead with an eyesight but out of earshot.
Eleanor doesn’t usually warm to new executives so quickly. Rebecca felt a flush of professional pride. She’s incredible. I’ve admired her work for years. She seemed to think we’re married, Jackson said casually, his hands in his pockets. You were about to correct her. Rebecca glanced at him sideways.
Wasn’t that the right thing to do? Strategically? Perhaps not, his voice lowered. Daniel was watching the entire time. If Eleanor Winters believes we’re a package deal, it strengthens your position considerably. So we’re back to pretending. Rebecca couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. Jackson stopped walking, turning to face her fully.
Is that what you think I’m doing? Pretending? The intensity in his gaze made her heart flutter treacherously. Before she could respond, Penny called out, having discovered the indoor pool visible through glass doors at the end of the corridor. The moment shattered as they hurried to catch up with her. Later that night, after Penny had fallen asleep in the suite’s second bedroom, Rebecca found herself alone with Jackson in the spacious living area.
He stood by the windows overlooking the moonlit lake, a glass of whiskey in hand, looking pensive. “You never answered my question,” he said without turning, “about whether you think I’m pretending.” Rebecca approached cautiously, maintaining a careful distance. “I don’t know what to think, Jackson.
