Jordan flashed a smile as he headed toward the door. "You can place the business first, boss, all you want. But I've learned enough to know—if she walks back in here again, looking like last Tuesday? You're going to remember how hard it is to focus when your pulse doesn't work a clock at five."As the door swung shut behind Jordan, Saben stood staring toward the doorway, motionless, reflective.Then, with one hand, he gradually closed the file on the desk before him. His fingers caressed the edges. "Let's see what kind of move she makes," he whispered.BMX Estates boardroom, glass walls and all, sent back the early sunlight in warm golden light, casting stripes of shadow on the shiny mahogany table. Jenny White sat at the far end, papers neatly fanned out, ankles crossed at the heel, revealing only a fraction of the storm within.She'd had meetings. Important ones. Pressure-cooker ones. None, however, compared to when he strode in.Saben Thompson.The infamous, irresistibly smooth CE
In the executive-style, glass-walled top floor of BMX Estates, the typical hum of business whirled around—sly footsteps, muffled whispers, the occasional bleep of emails being fired off to giants of the world. But within Saben Thompson's office, there was a tense atmosphere.Jordan Cruz, the Vice President and longtime friend of Saben's, stood at the edge of the CEO's desk, eyeing him warily as Saben pored over the latest partnership reports.You're awfully quiet today," Jordan said, folding her arms. "Even for you."Saben didn't lift her gaze. "I'm working.""You're pouting.""I'm managing Q3 margins."Jordan rolled her eyes. "You're mooning over Jenny White."That caused Saben to pause for half a second—long enough for Jordan to catch her."Aha," Jordan said, laughing. "The Thompson Flinch. You never do it, Sab. Unless you're trying not to admit something.".Saben finally lifted his eyes. His face was inscrutable, but his voice was a little gentler than normal in its weight. "She's.
Back in the office, the instant Jenny passed through the glass entrance, she took a deep breath she'd held since the end of the meeting. Her heels tapped firmly, but her heart pounded as if she'd just been off a battlefield.In Zina's corner office, the older woman reclined on the couch, feet propped up, one hand placed protectively across her belly. She was pregnant, but Zina still had that radiant, poised serenity Jenny admired.Zina's gaze rose in a languid smile. "So… how was it with His Highness of Ice?"Jenny flopped her bag onto the side chair and collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh."I hate him," she grumbled.Zina's eyes twinkled. "That bad?"Jenny rolled her head. "No. Worse."Zina smiled quietly. "Let me guess—he didn't even give you water?""No water. No hello. No smile. Just those deadpan eyes like he was silently judging my existence.""Sounds like Saben."Jenny rubbed her forehead, frustrated. "He hardly let me get a word in edgewise before he disputed every argument. A
"Don't test me. I'll begin sending you piña coladas until you crack."The stylist's neighbor, next to Jenny, laughed. "You two always like that?"Jenny and Zina both nodded in agreement: "Worse."That evening, Jenny sat in her apartment, sipping herbal tea, as Mochi curled around her ankles. The city lights twinkled outside her window like broken promises.She pulled out a journal—her little ceremony after long days—and began writing.Things I've made:One of the most lucrative lines on the MetroOne amazing friendship with a woman who used to intimidate me out of interviewing with herFinancial freedomInner calm, most of the timeFaith in myselfThings I want to create next:Love that doesn't make me feel smallA home full of laughter in every roomBalance of ambition and heartPerhaps, one day, childrenShe shut the book and sighed.Maybe Zina was right. She was twenty-nine. But she wasn’t running out of time—she was becoming more herself with every day that passed.The next mornin
Months passed after Aurora's arrival, and life had slowly found its rhythm again. The house was filled with lullabies, diapers, and midnight laughter. Eliana and Damian were settling into parenthood wonderfully well, their lives now revolving around the little star named Aurora.In another corner of the city, Saben Thompson had buried himself in work—incessantly.With his father Benedict formally relinquishing the BMX Estates reins and the last holding of the Thompson portfolio, Saben's life was now a blur of boardroom meetings, real estate projects, and 2 a.m. coast-to-coast phone calls. The swagger, the saracastic grins, the Sunday brunches—those were all replaced with pressure and precision. And he enjoyed it that way.The hurt with Clarisse was over—not all at once, but fragment by fragment. After the gender reveal, when he lay eyes on her again and found that he no longer hurt, he knew that something had genuinely changed. That wild, reckless, sloppy part of him that had craved
The front door creaked wide with a little too much excitement."Okay, be careful—step!" Damian bellowed, gripping the handle in one hand and swinging the door wide. Eliana, tired but radiant, trailed after him, one hand still wrapped around her belly as if reminding herself the baby was gone.The air was perfumed with the fresh smell of smooth linen and lavender. Damian had spent the week leading up to her due date in "nesting prep," sanitizing every surface and perfuming the air with calming scents. The air was now sanctified."Welcome home, Aurora Wolfe," Eliana whispered, voice cracking.The baby rewarded her with a gentle sigh, more a feeling of sleep that she'd arrived than a cry.Granny Leila lagged behind with the hospital bags in admirable vigor for a woman who never would carry her own supermarket bags. "Great, mind your own business," she shoved Damian aside and said. "We're just your humble backup crew.""I do kitchen duty," Granny Teresa declared, letting her handbag fall