Page 76 of A Perfect Fit

“Thank you.” My breath feels stuck in my throat, and my hands are embarrassingly sweaty. “You … don’t look too bad yourself.”

The compliment feels pathetic because he’s clearly a lot more than just how I described him, and he’s making me feel all sorts of dangerous things I shouldn’t be feeling.

“Just not too bad?”

“Well, I guess I can say you’re an aesthetically pleasing sight to look at,” I say, then internally face-palm myself.

Aesthetically pleasing? Really, Isabelle?

A chuckle vibrates in Jackson’s throat. “I’ll take that.”

Silence floats in the air. This time, as his eyes stare right into mine, it’s almost as if he’s looking at me for the first time.

“Should we head to the event?” he asks.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

We take the elevator and make our way to the hotel ballroom, where tonight’s event is taking place.

Inside, a stage is set up at the front. There are at least fifteen tables, each with gorgeous floral arrangements in various pastel colors. Light classical jazz music fills the air while purple lighting illuminates the room. Men in suits and women in beautiful dresses are talking and laughing, and among the buzz and chatter, servers wearing tuxedos roam the room, holding trays of champagne glasses.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Jackson says, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Curiosity bubbles within me. “Who?”

“You’ll see soon.”

We stop behind a woman on her phone, her red hair pulled into a neat bun and her shoulders relaxed. She’s wearing a long-sleeved emerald-green dress, and even with her back toward me, there’s something familiar about her, even though I’m sure I’ve never met her before.

Hang on. Could it be …

Jackson clears his throat. “Good evening, Ms. Sparkes. Apologies for interrupting.”

The woman turns around, a warm smile on her face as she acknowledges Jackson and me. My mouth drops wide open, but no words come out.

“Hi, Jackson. Nice to meet you.” She turns to me and extends a hand. “Isabelle, is it? Pleasure to meet you. I’m Elizabeth Sparkes.”

“Oh my God, I love you—I mean, it’s nice to meet you, too,” I squeak and immediately cringe at how embarrassing I sound.

My palms are sweaty, but I manage to move my hand and shake hers. Her grip is firm and warm.

“Thank you so much, Elizabeth,” I add. “It’s great to see you in the flesh—I mean, er, in person.”

Elizabeth lets out a friendly laugh. “You can call me Liz. Jackson told me about you.”

I’m so starstruck at seeing Liz that it only hits me now that this is the surprise Jackson was keeping from me earlier. He somehow managed to get into contact with the Elizabeth Sparkes and tell her about me.

I slowly turn to glance at him, seeing a reassuring smile on his face.

“Our office receives numerous emails and requests on the daily, but I understand Jackson was very persistent,” Liz adds with a wink. “I’d say you’ve found yourself a keeper.”

A whirlwind of emotions swirls through my body. I’m the one who’s supposed to be here, supporting him tonight, and yet he went above and beyond to do something for me again. And that’s not even mentioning the incredible marketing ideas he put together for my fashion show.

“Yeah.” My breath catches in my throat. “He’s pretty amazing.”

“He certainly was very persuasive over email,” Liz says with a laugh. “But I’m glad he was. Isabelle, I had a look at the designs on your website, and I loved them. Sparkes Magazine is doing a piece soon featuring some newer fashion brands, and we’d love to include your business as part of the series, if it’s something you might be interested in. I think you’d be an inspiration for many of our younger readers in particular.”

My heart starts pounding like crazy. Did I hear that correctly?