Page 16 of Jack Frost, CEO

I wave him off. “No, no. I know it was a... mishap. We’re good. It’s okay.”

When we finish eating, and the continued silence grows to be too much, I clear my throat and grab one of the boxes we brought.

“So, let’s go over the plan for tomorrow. Here’s what we know.” I pull the file close to me. “Marcus McIntyre is married with two kids, Maxim and Calista, twins, age seventeen. His wife, Alexandra, is his business partner and works in their marketing department. According to his secretary, Marcus is a family man, golfs on weekends, attends his kids’ sporting events, school functions, and so on.” I peer up from my notes. “I don’t see anything indicating why he would pull the contract. I assisted with the terms, which appear very beneficial for both parties. You’d both stand to make a large sum.” I push up from the table to place our dishes in the sink and flip the switch on the kettle.

“I tapped all my known sources, and no one’s heard anything. We’ll likely find out tomorrow.” Jack’s frustration is evident in his tone and crossed arms.

I shrug, pull some mugs down from the cabinet, and grab the hot chocolate packets from the pantry. “It may have nothing to do with the terms at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can agree that the contract is solid. Both companies stand to gain profits and market shares. There’s no logical reason for Marcus not to sign, so maybe his reasoning isn’t logical.” I dump the packets into the cups, adding boiling water to each.

“Continue.”

“Well, it could have to do with something that happened to him when he interacted with someone from your company.” I grab the can of squirty cream from the fridge, adding a generous serving to my mug and an average amount to Jack’s.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Well, for example. If I were out to dinner and saw someone misbehaving at the bar… They’re loud, swearing, pushing, and generally causing a ruckus, which then forces the manager to come over and escort them out. And I notice they’re wearing a company shirt—let’s say for a lawn service—I know that I would think twice about hiring that company to mow my lawn based on how that one employee was behaving. The employee will probably get fired, and it isn’t the company’s fault that one employee acted out of turn on his own time. However, my opinion of that company is now tarnished. Maybe something similar happened with him and someone in your circle?” I set the mugs on the table before reclaiming my seat.

Jack stares at me. So I grab a napkin and wipe my chin, thinking I may have some cream on it. When it comes back clean, I shift nervously in my chair until I can’t take it anymore.

“What?”

“You’re a genius.” Jack continues to stare at me in awe.

“What are you on about?”

“You’re a genius. I never would have thought about something like that. I never would have made the connection, never would have connected those dots. You’re absolutely brilliant. What am I going to do when you leave?”

“You’ll be okay. I’m sure you’ll find someone even more amazing than me.” I blush at his compliments. “Even if I stayed, I couldn’t be your assistant. I’ve worked too hard to get past this part of my life. I appreciate the help with the internship hours and the job. I can never thank you enough, but this is not where I’m meant to be.”

“No, I don’t think it is, Maisie,” Jack murmurs. “I’m going to head to bed. We have to be ready to leave by eight tomorrow. I purchased dining privileges, so we need to check in for our entrance cards. They’re linked to the company account, so anything you charge is covered.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be ready. I’ll finish up down here and then head to bed as well. Sweet dreams, Jack.”

“Sweet dreams, Maisie.” Jack’s voice floats back into the room as he ascends the stairs.

I clean the kitchen and remove the sauce stains from the sweater as best I can, quickly washing it by hand before laying it back over the drying rack for the night. Then I take a quick shower and slip into my favorite flannel pajamas. By the time my head hits the pillow, I’m already out.

Chapter 14

Jack

Listening to Maisie shower is a form of torture I never expected to experience. My mind keeps envisioning her pressed up against me again. I could feel the brush of her breasts on my chest with her every breath. I’ll never forget the way her eyes dilated while she stared up at me in shock. Every instinct I have is demanding that I walk into that bedroom and claim her. It’s a pounding, incessant thought marching in my brain.

I grip the sheets tightly as the shower turns off and imagine her stepping out onto the mat, wrapping the bath towel around her wet body with her hair in another messy bun on the top of her head.

Maisie moves around in her room for a few more minutes before the house quiets. I slowly relax my grip on the sheets, rolling over and staring at the empty space next to me in my bed, wondering what she would look like laid out there, her eyes closed while her white-blonde hair drapes over the dark sheets.

I close my eyes and try to think about anything else to dispel the image. Memories of Antony and Monica in bed together rise to the surface, and I grit my teeth as my body finally calms.

Right. Business. We’re here for business and nothing more. I must keep my eye on the prize and my hands off Miss Maisie Mitchell. Rolling back over, I pound my pillow and fall into my worst sleep in years.

***

I wake up the following day and force myself to sit on the side of the bed, rubbing my face in exhaustion. I need to get moving, be on my A-game, and close this deal. However, as I focus on regaining my lost motivation, the familiar sounds and smells from the kitchen seep into my consciousness, offering a comforting respite from my fatigue.

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