Chapter 12: Chapter 12

ARIA

I duck onto the subway after leaving Jett’s apartment and lean back in my seat. My head is pounding, and my insides are twisted into knots. I only slept for a few hours, and they were not quality hours for sure.

I should have known better. The whole time, I knew the pool party was a mistake. What in the actual fuck was I thinking? I can’t for the life of me decide what made anything about last night seem like a good idea.

The alcohol, the stress, the frustration with Jett all came together in a perfect storm—plus, Len made a convincing argument, but that’s not an excuse, and I know it. I knew it even then, but I ignored it.

I spend the rest of the day in my apartment, cleaning, combing through work emails, ordering food, and generally feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

I text Katie and Len to let them know I’m okay and, surprisingly, not fired. They immediately respond with several messages, and I can’t bring myself to answer any of them.

Finally, I put myself to bed at eight o’clock, dreading what the next day or days will entail but knowing I deserve everything that comes my way.

***

The next day, I walk into Alastair Holdings. My plan is to simply put on a brave face and take Jett’s tongue lashing on the chin.

After settling into my office, I knock on Jett’s door like I do every day.

He’s holding his forehead as if he’s under a great deal of stress and only briefly looks up at me as I enter.

“Good morning,” I say. “Do you want to go over the schedule for the day?”

Jett grabs a stack of papers from his printer and places them in an envelope.

“Sure,” he says.

I go over the meetings on the schedule, and Jett simply nods or gives random instructions as we go down the list. When we’re done, I look at him.

He makes eye contact with me. “Is there something else?”

I pause. “Not unless you need something else from me?” I say.

He stands. “I do, actually. Please put this in a box and send it to the address on the envelope,” he says as he hands me the larger envelope and a smaller one on top of it.

I nod. “Anything else?”

Jett goes back to typing on his laptop. “No.”

I pause again.

Jett stops and looks at me. “What is it, Aria?”

“I just wanted to apologize again. I thought you might…” I trail off.

“Lecture you? You’re a grown ass woman, Aria. You fucked up. I think you know that. Nothing I say will do anything except make you feel better for being a fuck up. But it’s not my job to make you feel better. Now, get back to work.”

The sting of his words settles into my chest. I don’t know whether I want to cry or scream. Thankfully, I choose neither and simply get up and leave.

I thought I wanted a lecture, to feel I had a just punishment before moving on, but Jett Abrams has a special way with words, and suddenly I feel slightly less bad for my lapse in judgment.

Back in my office, I look in the larger envelope and see a contract to sell a property in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The smaller envelope holds a card.

~Lena,~

~If you still want it, it’s yours.~

~Take care,~

~J~

I place both envelopes in a box and write the address on the top.

“Hey, Aria.” Vivian pops up in my doorway. “Want a latte?”

I smile back. “Sure,” I say as I get up and walk with her to the break room.

“How was your weekend?” she asks.

I sigh. “Well, it was one for the record books,” I say. “How about yours?”

“Lily was sick, so we just stayed in and baked cookies and watched movies,” she says.

“Sounds great,” I say.

“It kinda was! Have you been in to see Jett yet? How was his trip?”

I chuckle. “Um, good, I think,” I say as we enter the break room and start making lattes.

“Things went well with Lena, then?”

I pause and look at Vivian again. “Lena, his ex?”

“Yeah, I saw a lunch meeting with her on the schedule.”

“Oh. Actually, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I pause. “Do you…happen to know why they didn’t work out?” I ask, trying to sound casual as I pick my mug up and blow on it.

Vivian shrugs and sips her coffee. “They weren’t together a lot. I imagine it’s hard to make a relationship work when you live separate lives.”

“So, he didn’t cheat?”

“I don’t think so. Jett is…a little rough around the edges, but I don’t think he’s ~that~ cruel or careless.”

A short pause settles over us that is interrupted a moment later.

“Aria.” Jett appears at the door, looking stern. “I’ve been calling you.”

I set my cup down. “I apologize. I’ll be right there.”

Jett disappears, and Vivian shoots me a sympathetic look.

I stop at my office and pick up my planner and pen before heading into Jett’s office.

Jett looks up as I enter. “I want you to put together a report about a company called BixBee. Basic historical info and any financials you can find,” he says.

I nod and write. “When do you want it?”

“As soon as possible,” he says. “Also, see if you can schedule a meeting with Jan Albrecht when he’s here next month.”

I pause. “Jan Albrecht? As in the German Chancellor?”

He sighs, as if he’s annoyed by my question. “Yes,” he says. “I want to discuss the possibility of purchasing a production facility in Germany and hope he can help me decide which one.”

“Okay,” I say, even though I have no idea how I’ll get in contact with the German Chancellor.

“I’d like to remodel my kitchen,” he says suddenly. “I need you to find and interview the top ten contractors in the city and give me a report on your favorite three by Friday.”

I nod, still writing as quickly as possible.

“Oh, and my mom just called to let me know she’s flying in on Thursday. Her flight lands at 12:10 p.m. Could you pick her up and make a reservation for lunch after?”

“What restaurant?” I ask.

“She prefers sushi or Greek food.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“Mom wants to go to the symphony on Friday night, but I’m not a huge fan. I’d like you to attend with her,” he says.

My mind races. ~As in the symphony that Gray plays in?~

I look up and see Jett regarding me, the edges of his lips turned up ever so slightly. ~He knows who Gray is. He’s sending me to the symphony on purpose.~

I guess that answers the whole ‘I wonder if he’s still mad’ question.

I smile back at him. “Great, no problem,” I say. “Anything else?”

“That’s all for now,” he says snidely.

I go back to my office and look over my list. I have a very long week ahead of me.

I start by reaching out to multiple contractors. Then, after twenty or so emails, I set about finding info on contacting Jan Albrecht. I check the time and see that their workday is about to end in Germany, but I call and leave a message anyway.

Then I schedule a lunch reservation for Friday at 1 p.m. at a sushi restaurant for Eleanor Abrams and Jett. By the time I’m researching BixBee, Jett’s lunch has arrived, and I receive another round of long, complicated tasks while he eats.

When Tim calls me at 3 p.m., I realize I haven’t even stopped for lunch. I unwrap a power bar as I answer.

“Hello?”

“Aria! How’s it going? I just wanted to check in with you.”

Tim’s familiar voice makes me long for our quiet, calm office. I look at the door to make sure no one’s listening.

“Hey. I’m at the office now, so I can’t talk long. It’s going…okay,” I say.

“Well, I was hoping for better than okay, but I’ll take it. We’ve had some new applicants. Do you have any insight for us on successfully completing this contract?” he asks.

My heart twists a little, which confuses me; I’d love to go back to my old job, but I feel a stab of jealousy at someone else being this close to Jett even through his vengeful tactics.

“He likes to be in control. The duties heavily lean toward research and administrative tasks. They should be highly detailed and organized,” I say before adding, “with thick skin.”

“Great, great,” Tim says as I hear him typing in the background. “Other personality traits?”

“Calm, adaptable, ambitious,” I say.

“Okay. If you think of anything else, lemme know. I’ll start vetting and see if we can’t get you out of there soon.”

“Okay. Thanks, Tim,” I say.

I hang up, finish my power bar, and get back to researching BixBee.

By the end of the day, my to-do list is actually longer, despite checking several things off of it, and my neck is sore from clenching my jaw and holding intense focus.

“You ready?” Jett’s voice makes me jump; I didn’t hear him approach.

“For?”

“We’re meeting Jerome at my gym,” he says, crossing his arms.

“Oh, uh, I have so much to do. Maybe I should stay and work a bit longer?” I ask.

“Sounds like you could use a good, hard workout to me,” he says with a smirk. “Come on, the car’s waiting.”

Jett disappears from my doorway. I roll my eyes and pack up my bag. Luckily, I have my workout clothes with me.

I utilize every moment of time to go over tasks and Jett’s schedule, but he also takes every opportunity to pile more and more on my plate, such as acquiring a test batch of Tiftin’s new energy drink and finding the exact color blue to paint his Ferrari.

By the time we reach his house, I’m feeling even more overwhelmed. I put in our dinner order, then change to work out.

“Ari! How’s it going?” Jerome gives me a big smile and hug as I enter the gym.

“I’m doing all right. How are you?” I ask, immediately more at ease in Jerome’s presence. He’s so energetic and kind that you can’t help but be in a good mood around him.

“I really can’t complain. Looking forward to training with you again,” he says as he looks me up and down.

“What are we doing today?” Jett asks, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Jerome lays out our workout plan: different stages of cardio bursts and then ending with a lower body burn. By the end of it, I’m dripping with sweat and feeling exhausted, yet rejuvenated.

I thank Jerome profusely and go to leave.

“Ari, hold up,” Jerome says. I turn back to him. “I’m teaching a self-defense class at a gym uptown this weekend, if you want to come.” He hands me a small flier with the info.

“Oh, cool! Thank you,” I say. “I’ve been meaning to take a self-defense class.”

“Great, well, I hope to see you there,” he says with a smile.

I look behind him, and Jett looks almost angry. I say a quick goodbye and head upstairs.

For dinner, Jett and I sit on his couch, eating Thai food and watching college basketball. Jett is more relaxed, and we make some small talk, but a comfortable air settles around us.

After I finish, I sit back against Jett’s cozy couch cushions, telling myself I’ll leave when the half ends. I don’t remember closing my eyes.