Page 39 of Perfectly Wrong

John chuckled. “Lena, I hadn’t seen that big smile on your face in ages. If it’s because of a guy who’s barely out of diapers, then so be it. And you should accept that because there’s clearly love in that little heart of yours.” I pouted, and John wiped my tears away. “I know it’s not an ideal situation, shorty, but your mom’s right. Let’s enjoy the holiday and eat everything we can, because neither of us can cook like she can. When Sam gets back from Jamaica, you’ll talk, and it’ll all work out.”

“He hates you, John,” I declared. “I’m sure of it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t care, Elena. He doesn’t need to like me—he needs to love you. He needs to respect you and encourage you to be the best version of yourself. And respect our friendship, obviously. If Sam Martin can do that, then I can listen to his music without gagging.”

With the support of my parents and John, I managed to keep Sam out of my head for the most part until I got back to Toronto. He was supposed to fly in on Wednesday, and I was a ball of nerves. Why couldn’t it be Wednesday already?

The first few days back were a nightmare. I kept rehearsing what I’d say in my head over and over. “Look, John is just a friend, and nothing happened after the party,” I muttered to myself in the mirror.

God, maybe that wasn’t the best approach. He’d probably ask what did happen, and I’d have to say I stayed in John’s room until two in the morning talking about him. My friend had been so patient, even listening to our fights. I left out the more intimate details, but John knew more about Sam and me than anyone else.

On Monday and Tuesday, there wasn’t much to do except obsess over the anticipation for Sam’s new album. He was coming back to Toronto with everything recorded, and we just needed to finalize the marketing plan.

By the time Wednesday arrived, I thought my heart might explode. My parents and John sent encouraging messages, wishing me luck for the meeting. My friend even added, “and with him too,” at the end, making me smile. The drive to Icon Records felt like it took forever, and I felt like I needed to pee every time someone said his name. We were already seated in the big meeting room when Martin finally showed up. I held my breath when our eyes met, and he smiled.

He. Smiled. At. Me.

That had to be a good sign, right? It seemed like Sam wasn’t mad anymore, and my heart settled a bit. Everything would be okay. We’d talk, find a way to navigate through the rest of the tour, and then... well, then would be our story.

I was sitting in the middle of the rectangular table. Sam walked over to Jeremy, who was at the head, and handed him a small box. “It’s all there,” he said, smiling. “Hope you guys love it as much as I do.”

When my boss placed the box aside, there were protests around the table.

“Aren’t we going to listen to it?” Matt asked.

“No.” Jeremy smirked, clearly enjoying the suspense. “I’ll listen first, then share it with you. I want to see how much Elena has researched Martin’s work and how well they align.”

I sighed, disappointed. More than listening to the songs, I just wanted to hear Sam’s voice. I wanted to jump across the table and hug him, kiss him, tell him I missed him.

The meeting didn’t last long; we just reviewed the schedule. As we were leaving, Jeremy asked me to stay. For a moment, I considered lying and saying I had something urgent to work on. Sam was so close, but still so far, and we hadn’t had a proper chance to talk. It was killing me.

As soon as everyone left, Marco, the lawyer, walked in with a stack of papers. Jeremy closed the door, a faint smile on his face.

“That was Sam Martin, wasn’t it? The guy we met in Japan,” Marco asked casually.

I swallowed hard.

“You met Martin in Japan?” Jeremy looked at me, puzzled.

“Yeah, we were having lunch when he walked in.” Someone needed to shut this lawyer up. “He seemed surprised to see us, didn’t he, Elena? I’d even say he panicked a bit when he saw you. I don’t think he expected to bump into anyone he knew.”

“Right, but what did you want to discuss, Jer?” I tried to steer the conversation away. I couldn’t explain what Sam was doing in Japan without digging myself into a deeper hole. Marco set the papers on the table, and I noticed the bold letters at the top: PROJECT TS. A chill ran through me.

“This…”

“That’s the contract for the marketing project with Taryn Steward,” Jeremy said proudly, handing me a pen. I had to catch my breath. “If you’re still interested, just sign here, and you’re officially on her team.”

With trembling hands, I signed it, barely believing I’d actually secured the project.

As I left the room, I was in a daze. I’d done it, and I was ecstatic. My smile grew even wider when I spotted Sam standing near my office door. He looked incredible—his skin lightly tanned, cheeks flushed from the Jamaican sun. A familiar heat ignited in my stomach. The desire was so intense, I wanted to pull him into my office right then and there.

When our eyes met, I could see he felt the same. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and I bit my lip. I glanced around, weighing my options. The corridor was empty, and there was only one possibility. I’d already taken risks for him before—why not again?

Just down the hall, there was a staff restroom. It wasn’t as nice as the one for visitors, but it had a lock, and that’s all I needed. His eyes followed mine, and he smiled knowingly.

I walked past him, heading straight for the restroom, not bothering to check if he was behind me. I knew he was. I stood in the middle of the small space, my heart pounding. The anticipation was both exhilarating and maddening. The wait was agonizing and thrilling at the same time—agonizing because I felt like I might combust any second, and thrilling because I knew he would make it worth every second.

When I heard the lock click, I grinned.

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