by Reese Ryan
He’d fallen asleep with her in his arms. Something he usually avoided, even on the rare occasions that he slept over at someone’s place or allowed them to sleep over at his.
He reached for her, but she was gone.
Jordan propped himself up on his elbows and scanned the room. She wasn’t there and the bathroom door was open. He called to her, but there was no answer.
Jordan pulled on a pair of boxers. He checked the terrace and the rest of the house, but Sasha wasn’t there.
He yawned and made his way to the kitchen. There was a note on the counter.
Jordan,
Had to leave early for work. Last night was amazing. Thank you for a great night.
Sasha
Jordan ran a hand through his hair and huffed.
Why would she leave without saying goodbye?
Because Sasha’s note sounded suspiciously like a kiss-off. Translation: Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve no intention of doing this again.
Jordan checked his watch and groaned. He’d slept late. Perhaps Sasha slipped out because it was early and she hadn’t wanted to wake him. Still, she should’ve said goodbye.
Even he had the decency not to creep out without saying goodbye.
Jordan made himself a cup of black coffee, stewing over Sasha’s cryptic note.
He grabbed his coffee cup, found his mobile and rang her.
She didn’t answer.
He waited a few minutes and rang her again as he searched his closet for something to wear to the studio. He’d be working late into the night to fix what damage he could and start over with any pieces that had been ruined.
“Good morning, Jordan.” Her voice was tentative.
“I rather hoped we’d be having this conversation in person. There’s nothing more awkward than the morning-after conversation by mobile. Except, perhaps, the morning-after conversation by text.”
He’d hoped to lighten the mood with a little levity. But Sasha didn’t laugh. And there was no indication of a smile in her voice.
“Sorry, I had to get into work early today.” She sounded formal. Like they were complete strangers. Not like he was a man who knew her taste and had memorized her every curve.
“I can appreciate that, but I still wish you’d awakened me this morning.” He smiled. “I had a very special goodbye planned.”
She was silent for a moment too long. “Look, Jordan, last night was...amazing.” Her voice was hushed. “But we both know it can’t happen again. Not if we plan to keep working together.”
“Why not? We’re both adults with a clear understanding of the situation.” He paced inside the closet. “Surely, we’re both sensible enough to manage a business connection and a personal connection.”
Her silence said she didn’t agree. “I know, in theory, it seems possible. And maybe I’m just not mature or cosmopolitan enough. But I don’t think I can manage both.”
“Don’t I get a choice as to which is more important to me?” He gritted the words through his teeth.
It was a cruel thing to say, he knew. They’d already discussed all the reasons his account was so important to her. Still, it wounded his pride to think she’d chosen her work over what they’d shared last night. As if it had meant nothing to her.
The irony of his inability to accept being on the wrong side of the awkward morning-after call wasn’t lost on him.
The cosmos was having a great laugh at his expense. He deserved it, he was sure. But the fact that he had it coming didn’t make getting kicked in the teeth hurt any less.
“I don’t think we should see each other again casually. Period.” Her words felt like the steel doors of a lift shutting in his face. “And if you don’t think you can keep working with me, I respect that. I can recommend a few other highly qualified consultants here in our office.”
“Sasha, there’s no need to take such drastic measures.” If he could just reason with her. Make her see how crazy it was to think that they couldn’t be lovers and business associates. And perhaps even friends.
“Jordan, I’m sorry. I really am. I know better and I’ve never done this before. Never even been tempted to, I swear. So, no, I don’t know how to deal with this.”
His mobile alerted him to another call. It was Lydia at the gallery. Jordan checked his watch again.
“That’s Lydia calling. I have a meeting scheduled at the gallery this morning.”
“Then you should go.” Sasha sounded relieved.
“I’ll ring her later. See if she can reschedule.”
“No.” Her voice was insistent. “The meeting sounds important. We can talk later.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Have a good day, Jordan.” She didn’t acknowledge his words. “Thank you again for last night. For telling me about Jeanette. It meant a lot that you trusted me with your memories of your sister.”
Hell of a way to repay that trust.
“We will talk later.” Jordan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut when Sasha ended the call without agreeing.
He’d missed Lydia’s call, so he rang her up at the gallery and promised to be there as soon as he could take a shower and grab a bite to eat.
He tossed his phone on the bed, hoping the situation with Sasha would improve. After having her in his bed, all he could think of was having her there again.
* * *
Sasha exited the supply closet where she’d retreated to take Jordan’s call. If she hadn’t answered, he would’ve called again. Perhaps shown up in her office.
So she’d slipped into the closet like she did when she was thirteen, and her father thought she was too young to take calls from boys. Not a good look for a woman who was three years shy of thirty.
She shook her head, disgusted with her lack of judgment.
What did you think would happen if you slept with him?
But she hadn’t been thinking last night. She’d only been feeling and wanting. And look at the mess she’d made.
Jordan Jace was no stranger to short-term dalliances. Once he got over his hurt pride, he’d see that she was right. Being lovers was a colossally bad idea.
“Got a call for you,” her assistant, Melanie, mouthed.
“Who is it?” she mouthed back.
Melanie covered the phone and whispered, “Mrs. Jace.”
Sasha froze, her muscles tensing and her heart racing.
Melanie raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. A knowing smile curled the edges of her mouth. She put the woman on hold on the pretense of going to find her.
“So, do you want me to put the call through to your future mother-in-law or what?”
Sasha’s cheeks and forehead burned with heat.
“Oh. My. God. That’s why you came tipping in here this morning acting all weird. You were with Jordan Jace last night, weren’t you?”
Sasha shushed the woman, who couldn’t stop grinning.
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” Sasha said in as serious a voice as she could muster.
“Okay, fine. We won’t talk about whatever obviously did happen between you two last night.” Melanie grinned, unable to hide her amusement over the boss behaving badly. “But Mrs. Jace is pretty persistent. If I put her off now, you know she’s just going to keep calling.”
Like mother, like son.
“Fine. Just give me a minute, will you? Then transfer her to my desk.” Sasha went into her office and closed the door. She took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths before sinking into the chair behind her desk.
Melanie made eye contact with her through the glass partition. Sasha nodded that it was okay to put the woman through.
“Mrs. Jace. How can I help you this morning?”
“I wanted to see if you were able to get my son to go straight home.”
“
Yes. Yes, I was.” Sasha tried to rid her mind of the images of last night. She could only imagine Mrs. Jace’s reaction if she knew what had happened between her and Jordan last night. “He’s fine. Really. I don’t think you need to worry about him.”
His mother sighed in relief. “I knew you’d handle it. You’re as good as advertised, Miss Charles.”
“Any member of our consultant team would’ve done the same.” Sasha tried to sound cheery and upbeat.
“I’m sure they would’ve, dear,” Mrs. Jace said. “But your firm wasn’t recommended to me. It was your name I kept hearing from friends. And it was your results I was so impressed with. If you ask me, you’re the crown jewel of that firm. They should be glad to have you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jace. That’s very kind. But something unexpected has come up. I might have to step away from Jordan’s account and allow another member of our team to handle it. He’ll be in just as capable hands, I assure you.”
“I don’t want hands that are just as capable. I want yours. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’ve already done wonders for my son. I’ve seen a great improvement in his website and social media. And the media page on his website looks impressive.”
“And whoever takes over the account would simply execute the plan and strategies Jordan and I have already identified. The changeover would be seamless.”
“I don’t doubt that the plan would be the same.” It was obvious the woman—who probably wasn’t accustomed to being told no—was trying her best to remain calm. “But Jordan wouldn’t be. He needs you. You’re tough with him, but you’re also extremely passionate about his work. You respect him. See the greatness in him. So, I beg to differ. Plugging someone else in your place will not be the same. Please reconsider, I beg of you. If money is the issue, we can renegotiate your fee.”
“It isn’t the money—”
“Let me talk to her.” Mr. Jace was in the background. He’d never been a fan of her or spending money on her services. He’d be glad to call off the entire project.
“Miss Charles, this is Jonathan Jace.”
“Yes, sir.”
He sighed noisily, then was quiet so long she nearly thought the call had dropped.
“Please don’t abandon my son now.” His tone was very different than it’d been that night at the gallery. “Eva’s right. You are good for Jordan. But you’ve been good for us, too. Me especially.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You stood up to me the other day. Defended my son and his work. You made me rethink things. I was being unfair to Jordan. You made me see that. The boy has talent.”
Sasha was too stunned to speak, so he continued.
“I know I can be gruff, at times. It isn’t intentional. It’s the way I was raised. I simply want the best for my children. And to leave my legacy to them. To all of them. But I realize now that isn’t the best use of Jordan’s talents. And I have you to thank for that. So please, Miss Charles, don’t leave the job undone. Our boy needs you, and so it appears, do we.”
“Mr. Jace, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll stay on, dear.” Mrs. Jace’s voice was distant, but she apparently took the phone back from her husband. “You don’t have to answer me now, but please, think about it. Even if you won’t do it for us, think of all the additional business Jace Investments and our friends could throw your way, Miss Charles. This can be a long and lucrative relationship.”
They were dangling an irresistible prize in front of her. One she couldn’t, as a potential partner at the firm, turn down in good conscience.
She’d be throwing away what might be millions of dollars’ worth of business because she hadn’t had enough self-control to keep her hands to herself. And now she’d be compounding that by allowing her personal feelings to get in the way of business.
“I’ll make arrangements, so I can stay on Jordan’s account.”
“Thank you, Miss Charles. I know you’re quite busy, so we won’t take up any more of your time.”
Sasha hung up the phone and rested her head on the desk atop her folded arms.
She’d have to navigate the treacherous path she’d created for herself. That meant convincing Jordan Jace it would be better if they returned to a strictly professional relationship.
But first, she needed to convince herself.
Chapter 10
Jordan stood and stretched, thankful that the meeting with Vaughn Ellicott, Chris Marland and a few other members of Prescott George had finally ended.
He and Marcus, his studio assistant, had spent the previous day cleaning the paint off the vandalized pieces of metal. They salvaged most of them, since they were just a little banged up. Then he and Marcus reassembled the previously finished parts of the sculpture.
Today, he didn’t have Marcus’s help, and business in the gallery had sidetracked him from his studio work. Then there was the Prescott George meeting.
He’d been tempted to blow the meeting off. But he’d taken Sasha’s advice to heart. He was trying his best to take his duties at the club more seriously. That included his role as the community outreach liaison.
“We’re headed out, and I’m going to lock up since no one else is here.” Chris glanced down at his watch impatiently after Vaughn left.
“Actually, I plan to spend about an hour in my office here. I need to pull some info together for a community outreach project I’m considering,” Jordan said.
Chris’s eyes widened, as if Jordan had said he could fly or the sky was green.
The man’s disbelief was warranted.
Jordan’s appointment as the club’s community outreach liaison had been purely political. Likely at his father’s request. Jordan had accepted the position to pacify his father by giving the semblance of finally taking his membership seriously.
He’d been in his PG office a handful of times in the months since he’d agreed to accept the role.
It wasn’t that Jordan didn’t think the position was important. It was his disdain for the club and what it stood for. But Sasha had shown him how he could use the club to do more good than he ever could alone.
“I am still PG San Diego’s community outreach liaison, aren’t I?”
Chris nodded dumbly. “Yes, of course.”
“Then I’ll lock up when I’m done.” Jordan dangled his key chain, then turned the corner toward his office.
A familiar voice drew Jordan’s attention, stopping him cold.
“Chris Marland, right? You might remember me from the PG event at Sorella the other night.”
Sasha.
Jordan turned back toward Chris, who stood at the end of the hall.
“Of course.” Chris folded his arms, one brow raised. “You’re Jordan’s...consultant.”
“I thought I might find him here.”
“Right over there.” Chris pointed in his direction.
Sasha rounded the corner, halting abruptly once she saw him. She thanked Chris, but didn’t take any additional steps toward him.
Chris shook his head and left, no doubt believing that meeting Sasha was his real objective in staying.
Well, to hell with him. Chris could believe anything he wanted. He didn’t need to jump through hoops to impress Christopher Marland or anyone else at the club.
“Did I interrupt something?” Sasha looked confused.
“No, he’s just a perpetual grouch. Come on in.” Jordan beckoned her, only half joking. No need to upset her with what Chris likely thought. After all, that wouldn’t help his argument. “I was just heading to my office.”
He unlocked the door and let her in, surveying the space.
“This is my first time here,” Sasha said suddenly, as if she desperately needed to say something. Anything. “It’s a lovely building. This is the old brewery, right?”
; “So they tell me.” He tried not to show his amusement. “Have a seat, please.”
She nodded and sat in the chair. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Finally, she stopped surveying the room long enough to look at him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call first. But I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. I couldn’t leave a message because your voice mail is full. And you didn’t answer today, either.”
“And how’d you know I was here?”
“Lydia mentioned that you were unreachable because you were in a meeting here at the Prescott George offices. I’m sure she meant to get rid of me, but I took a chance on catching up with you here once the meeting ended.”
“Then it must be pretty important.” He settled back in his chair, studying her face.
“It is.”
The last time a woman tried this hard to reach him was his first and last pregnancy scare when he was barely twenty. Thankfully, it’d been a false alarm. “I’m all ears.”
“I need to tell you I’m sorry about the other night. It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I insisted we keep the relationship strictly business. Then I failed to keep my end of the bargain.”
“So you’re here to tell me you wish you hadn’t slept with me. Well, that wouldn’t crush a fellow’s ego, now, would it?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Sasha winced, pressing a hand to her forehead. “It was great. You know that. The quality of the encounter is not the issue. It’s that it should never have happened at all. Because you’re my client and I’m bound by a code of ethics. And I failed it miserably.”
Jordan clenched his teeth, trying not to be incredibly insulted. It was as effective as a rubber band trying to stop a speeding train.
“All right, Miss Charles.” He grinned slyly when she narrowed her gaze at his use of formal address. “We screwed up. Both figuratively and literally. So now what?”
“If you’re agreeable to it, I’d like to continue as your brand strategist. But this time I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Jordan crossed one leg over the other and stared at her for a moment, sizing her up. The guilt vibrated off her, as did the attraction between them.
