Page 29 of Jack Frost, CEO

“I noticed you didn’t share funny family stories at brunch earlier. Why is that?”

I sigh. I knew this would happen.

Over the course of the next half hour, I tell Marcus all about the abandoned baby who came to be named Jack Foster. How he grew up to attend one of the most prestigious universities on a scholarship for international students. How he would meet a young Gio Santoro. And how the now famous singer was the only reason that naïve college kid made it through those years at Oxford.

By the time I get to the part where my first business was started in the garage of Gio’s house while he was on tour, Marcus is shaking his head in awe. “You really are all they say you are and more.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Well, word on the street is that you’re a bootstraps boy, that you don’t take any shit, but you don’t give it either. You’re the hardest working person in any company you run, and while no one praises your sparkling personality, everyone says that you have the best interests of your employees at heart.”

I’m flabbergasted. I don’t know what to say. I never realized that people felt that way about me. I was occasionally looked down upon because I’m what most consider new money. Still, I didn’t realize that the scuttlebutt on the town left me in such a favorable light. “Well, we must not be talking to the same people. I’m well aware of my nickname.”

“What nickname is that?”

I have to laugh. “Jack Frost.”

Marcus’s boisterous chuckle echoes in the sauna as we adjust our towels and head to the locker room to shower. “That’s hilarious, my friend. One hundred percent hilarious. Come. Let’s grab a drink, maybe a good cigar, and discuss this nickname further.”

Chapter 21

Maisie

By the time we leave the spa, I’ve been brushed, plucked, rubbed, and shined until I’m like a new penny. My hair has never been this soft or straight, and whatever makeup magic they worked on my face is worth every cent the moment I see Jack’s face when we join the boys at the bar.

What started as a few mixed drinks and conversation quickly turns into shots and a raunchy version of truth or dare. By round three or four, possibly five, I know I’m not getting out of this night without a hangover while Jack, who volunteered to be our designated driver, is completely sober.

“Why are you always so, so...” My alcohol-addled brain can’t think of the words, and I grunt in frustration.

“Smart?” Jack offers.

“Savvy?” Marcus volunteers.

“Oh, I know! Sexy!” Alexandra crows despite the glare on Marcus’s face.

“Responsible!” I cry triumphantly.

“Because, Princess, I have precious cargo to return to our cabin.” Jack glances at his watch. “Right about now.”

Marcus has already started steering Alexandra out of the bar as I turn my pout on Jack. “I don’t want to go yet.” I sound like a petulant twelve-year-old, but I don’t care. I’m finally having fun on this trip.

“I know, Princess, but we need to get home and get you to bed with about a gallon of water and some Tylenol.”

“You mean paracetamol.”

“Same thing, love. Let’s go—upsy-daisy.” Jack swings me up in his arms when I stumble on the way to the car, depositing me into the seat before reaching over me to buckle my belt. His arm brushes my nipples when he pulls away, and I can’t help the hiss that escapes my mouth. His lips quirk, and then he’s jogging around to climb into the driver’s side.

Not even giving me a chance to navigate the snow, Jack sweeps me into his arms again when we reach the cabin. I take the opportunity to start kissing all the tanned skin I now have access to with my new height.

“Maisie, just let me get you upstairs. Please.”

I renew my efforts to get to more of his warm skin and hear him groaning.

“I swear this is punishment for all the bad shit I’ve done in my life.”

I giggle at his words before nipping his earlobe.

“Princess, you’re playing with fire. If you’re not careful, you’ll get burned.”

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