Page 155 of Failure to Match

I kept my eyes cast down as the crisp taps of Minerva’s heels entered the room; I lowered them even farther when Jackson walked in behind her. We hadn’t talked much last night after… everything. He’d tried, but I just couldn’t. I knew I was about to lose everything, he was still drunk, and I just needed to cry and spiral in peace. So, I’d left the restaurant and hopped into a cab back to my own place.

I also may have ignored all of his calls. And texts. And emails. They’d still been coming in periodically by the time Vivian’s email hit my inbox at 4:49 a.m.

I’d arrived at the office by 5:30, per her request, then waited for over four hours until she stormed in with the folder.

From the sneaky texts Alice had sent me, Vivian had been in back-to-back meetings with the heads of PR, HR, and Legal all morning. Apparently, she’d also intended to meet with the Sinclairs privately before speaking to me, but Minerva had insisted on my presence.

Not five minutes after Alice had sent the last update, Jackson had texted again.

Don’t say anything to anyone, especially if lawyers are present. Wait for me. I’m coming.

I hadn’t responded then, and I couldn’t look at him now. If I did, there was a chance I’d start to cry again. I was a fucking mess.

“Minerva, Jackson.” Vivian’s tone was curt, professional, and laced with rage. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, have a seat.”

There were eight chairs placed evenly around the table, yet Jackson chose the one to my left, nudged it way closer than necessary, and took a seat beside me. My shoulders, spine, heart—everything went stiff.

I could feel the holes Vivian’s wrath was boring into the side of my face. As though I’d made Jackson’s seating choice for him.

She cleared her throat and pulled out her own chair. “Firstly, I’d like to offer you both a sincere apology for everything that has transpired.” Her fingers intertwined on the table, her lips pressing together once to form a thin line of disappointment. “I’m embarrassed by the lack of professionalism displayed by certain members of my team, and I’d like to assure you that appropriate measures are being taken to hold the involved parties accountable.”

Okay, so her plan was to talk about me like I wasn’t in the room—got it.

“Regarding the most recent allegations, an internal investigation is being conducted as we speak. Jamie will be meeting with HR shortly after this meeting, as well as?—”

“What allegations?” Jackson cut in coolly. His knee kept nudging mine under the table like it was attempting to communicate with me through Morse code, and every time I tried to twist my leg away, he corrected it by moving closer. At this rate, he’d be fully pressed to my side before the meeting was over.

Vivian hesitated, but Jackson wouldn’t let it go. “What is she being accused of, exactly?”

That protective tone wasn’t doing me any favors. I nudged his thigh with my knuckles in silent warming, but it backfired catastrophically. The second he was presented with the opportunity, he snatched my hand, threaded his fingers through mine, and gave me a comforting squeeze before loosening his grip.

If I wanted to, I could’ve easily slipped away. Instead, my fingers lingered. I was emotionally drained, stressed as all hell, and it felt... honestly it was really comforting. Almost like we were in this together. A team.

I squeezed his hand back and, in response, he caressed my skin with his thumb.

Vivian’s expression was strained as she regarded Jackson. “Miray sent me a photo of the two of you last night at Rouge.”

“I’m aware,” Jackson said. “What I’d like to know is what, exactly, Miss Paquin is being accused of.”

“Is this it?” Minerva reached for the leather folder laid open in front of us, careful not to disturb Harry, who was peacefully asleep in her other arm. “I’m not sure what she’s doing wrong, either.”

Vivian’s mouth stuttered, clearly at a loss. “We have very clear-cut and strict policies regarding our consultants engaging in any sort of inappropriate behavior with our clients, andJamie?—”

“She’s not even touching him,” Minerva pointed out before pushing the folder aside.

I mean... yeah, my arms were loose at my sides, all sad and defeated, but he was cradling my face in his hands like it was something precious. Everything about our body language and the way we were looking at each other screamed inappropriate workplace conduct. There was no defending it.

“That’s because my affections for Jamie have been unrequited,” Jackson said. “She’s likely turning down anotherone of my proposals in the picture. I can’t quite remember. I’ve asked her to marry me so many times, it’s becoming difficult to keep track.”

WHAT?

Vivian blanched. “I’m… I’m sorry?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “She’s turned me down on every occasion. It’s been a very upsetting experience. I’m rather crushed over it, to be honest.”

I gaped up at him. Was he seriously doing this?

Vivian’s initial shock quickly morphed into disbelief. “Mr. Sinclair, as admirable as it is that you’re trying to protect Jamie, I can’t just let this slide. She should have reported the situation to HR?—”

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