It was a gusty Saturday afternoon, the kind that blew summer heat away and brought the gentle caress of autumn. The city buzzed softly—lovers walked hand in hand, dogs yapped leashes, and cafe tables were strewn with conversation and discarded half-lattes. Jenny White had no plans for today. A walk after brunch with Zina, a detour into her beloved independent bookstore, and maybe an iced coffee on the homebound trek.Her heels clicked against the sidewalk sharply as she turned onto 7th Street and moved in the direction of the bookstore. She'd barely extended far enough out to have her phone within reach to read a text message when a voice stopped her."Jenny?"She glanced up—her breath stuck in her throat.There he was.Saben Thompson. In jeans. Rolled up to the elbows, black, button-down. No marble-boarded remoteness, no clip-on suit. Just. him. Slouching in the window of the same bookstore, coffee in his hand and inscrutable face in his eyes."Oh," she said, attempting to sound nonc
But within him was the burden of what he could not say to her. The manner in which Jenny's laughter lingered in his thoughts long after they'd met. The manner in which she wouldn't fold, wouldn't placate him. The manner in which she'd exited his office without a shiver when he'd not given her what she anticipated. And still, there'd been something in that obstinacy, that blindness, that had appealed to it. Perhaps more than he dared admit.Eliana exhaled softly, understandingly. "I'm not trying to invade your life, Sab. But you know you can't keep running from your feelings forever." She lightly nudged Damian. "I mean, come on. We're not idiots."Saben's chest flushed with fury. His face twisted in an effort to recapture control of the situation. "I don't have time for this. I'm here for Isla, and that's it." He turned on his heel, but not before delivering one quick, pursed glance to his sister. "I'll see you both later."But the words lingered behind him. "Saben, don't lie. You've b
The Thompson Estate was alive today. And though the elegant beauty of the grand house, today was a day of laughter, commotion, and celebration. Today was Isla Wolfe's birthday, and the estate was filled with the sound of fellowship calls, a cacophony of laughter from children, and the far-off echo of joyful music on the breeze. The festoons were suspended in motion over the vast estate: balloons floated in light hues, and banners that declared "Happy Birthday, Isla!" were hammered up in all corners.Saben Thompson's room was to the side of the formal dining area, overlooking family grounds. The sun cast a golden spear of light out across the broad lawns, and the prospect should have been soothing. This morning it was like another fight waiting to blow.He had dressed in his typically immaculately creased suit—even, black, unwrinkled—but the tension in his posture cautioned that he had not been this at ease. Tonight would be a different sort of test. He was going to eat as a family wit
Jenny White's heels clicked on the marble floor as she exited the boardroom, her breath finally expelled like a sigh she'd been laboring under for hours. The tension knot of sitting across Saben Thompson still rested on her shoulders like a heavy coat, but under it was a dull ripple of relief—she'd survived.No, better than that. She'd held firm.She did not glance back. She kept a steady pace as she walked toward the elevator, her fists loosely curled, striving to keep herself in check until she was in Zina's office.Her heart was still racing when she knocked once and entered the cozy, book-lined room. Zina Bank was reclining on the sofa with her feet up, a large pillow under her swollen belly, sipping warm ginger tea. She looked up immediately, catching every glimmer on Jenny's face."You arrived," Zina whispered, her lips spreading into a smile.Jenny sank into the chair across from her, at last easing the knot in her back. "Barely. I think he attempted to incinerate me with his e
He wasn't the type of fellow to allow anyone—not least someone like Jenny White—to into his head. He didn't even want to allow her into his head past their working contacts. But the clock seconds, his mind appeared not to be able to dislodge her. The way that she'd held her own in that meeting, the way that she hadn't cried when he tried to send her packing, and the way that her eyes had flashed with wordless rebellion—it was different. She was different.Saben's teeth clenched. He did not like it at all when people defied him like that, especially when they succeeded. There was something in Jenny's eyes when she spoke to him, something that had frozen him for a moment of a split second. It was enough time, though, to have him angry.He turned his chair around and away from her, pacing. Why was she so difficult? It wasn't the disobedience—damn, he'd gotten worse out of others. It wasn't how fast her mouth worked or how well she ran the board meeting so slickly. It was something else,
Saben's glass doors closed on Jordan Cruz.The CEO leaned back in his giant desk chair, his eyes on the screen of his laptop, his brain elsewhere.The strangling hold of the silence in the room was choking him, a sour, grinding constriction. Saben hadn't moved from his chair since Jenny White had stormed out of his office, but for the life of him, he just couldn't seem to shake the impression that it had all gotten mixed up. Jordan, always the observant eye, moved quietly into the room and slipped into the leather chair beside Saben's desk. "So… what happened?" Jordan asked, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.Saben did not reply immediately. He simply clicked his mouse once or twice, as if he was searching for something—anything—to distract him from what had just happened.Jordan was not a dealer himself, but he knew that Saben was a man whose thoughts were elsewhere, perhaps even insane for the first time in years.Saben finally took a breath, letting his shoulders fal