Page 126 of Just for Tonight

“Actually, I know exactly how addictive that is,” I say softly and once again, our gazes lock. This time, Jake smiles, just a little, and my heart is leaping all over the place one more time.

One month.

“Sorry!” Sylvia says as she appears before us. “I just got caught up there. Jake, Mike and Elke are waiting for you, just at the window.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“And Mackenzie, how about that corner by the fire that you like?”

“What about over there?” Sloane says, indicating the table beside Mike’s.

Sylvia looks at me and I shrug, wondering. Jake gestures and I go first, Sloane following me this time. Mike nods hello and Elke smiles at me before her gaze slides to Sloane and lingers. No, it heats up. I sit down in time to see Sloane give her a slow perusal, smiling as he meets her gaze. As Jake takes the seat beside her, Elke smiles at Sloane, the most obvious invitation in her expression I’ve ever seen.

Sloane, of the torn jeans, the protein fixation, the plaid flannel shirts and the beard oil of the day is captivating a woman carrying a purse that cost more than his annual salary.

I guess opposites do attract sometimes. I glance at Jake to see him mime relief, then grin, his eyes glinting as he joins the conversation at his table.

One month.

I can’t wait, but I have to.

The man is moving a mountain for me.

It probably would be tacky to squee.

39

Jake

And in the end, the final piece of the puzzle to change my life drops into place as if it was pre-ordained.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to do more than facilitate Mackenzie’s dream for Rhodes Vineyards. I’ve been trying to find a way for me to be a part of her life, in Empire, while still keeping my job here in Toronto. I don’t really want a part-time relationship or a long-distance one, and I doubt Mackenzie does either. We need to be in the same place to give this a real chance, but that needs to happen without either of us sacrificing our ambitions. It’s the riddle without a solution, until suddenly it isn’t.

I get into the office at 7:30 as usual and there’s a message from the senior partner. I’m invited to his office as soon as I can manage it.

Today will be the day the big promotion is awarded.

This is the one I want. This is the one that should be mine.

I message his secretary and say I’m on my way, straighten my tie and pick a bit of lint off my cuff. The stainless steel elevator doors are so shiny that I can see my reflection and I give the lapel of my suit jacket a little tweak. I look great. This is not conceit. It is truth. I clean up well.

No one can probably even tell that I’m nervous.

The receptionist for our floor gives me a little smile and a thumbs-up when the elevator doors open. Then I’m whisked up the tower to the offices far above those of the minions. The air is rare on these high floors. I feel the difference as soon as the doors open. Sounds are hushed, maybe because the carpeting is about twice as thick.

Each senior partner has his or her own secretary and I nod to the one waiting on me. She presses a button, then opens the door for me.

The office of my boss’s boss is about eight times the size of mine. The furniture is better and the view is phenomenal. He’s not alone: two other partners are there, the three of them sitting around the small conference table opposite the big desk. My boss isn’t there and I’m not sure whether that’s a good sign or not.

It doesn’t take long. We all know why we’re there. They review my performance that makes me eligible for this position, compliment my work ethic, and review the terms of the offer.

Then my boss’s boss clears his throat. “There is only one small consideration, Jake, which we need to address.”

“Sir?”

“I understood that you were going to consult for your family’s business, let me see, Cavendish Enterprises?”

“Yes, sir. It’s a minor time commitment to the family business, to help my brother who has taken over after my father’s passing.”