Rebecca Walsh tugged nervously at the hem of her emerald silk dress, an extravagance she couldn’t afford, but had justified as an investment for her cousin’s lavish wedding. Sitting alone at table 19, practically in another zip code from the head table, she sipped champagne and fought against the familiar ache of isolation that had become her unwelcome companion since becoming a single mother.
Across the glittering ballroom of the Grand Harbor Hotel, her 5-year-old daughter, Penny, was having the time of her life, twirling with the other flower girls under the watchful eye of Rebecca’s aunt. At least one of them was enjoying this affair. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route,” came a deep voice from behind. “I’ve been considering the kitchen exit myself.
” Rebecca turned, her champagne nearly sloshing over the rim of her flute, and found herself looking up at Jackson Hayes, her direct superior at Meridian Publishing, where she’d worked as a mid-level editor for 3 years. 6’3, with eyes the color of bourbon and a jawline that belonged on magazine covers.
He was the last person she expected to see at her cousin Melissa’s wedding. “Mr. Haze,” she stammered, painfully aware of her smudged lipstick and the tiny tear in her dress she’d hastily repaired this morning. “What are you doing here?” He smiled, and Rebecca tried to ignore how it transformed his usually serious face. “Jackson, please, we’re not at work.

” He gestured toward the bride and groom. Thomas and I were roommates at Dartmouth. I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other at their events before. Rebecca felt her cheeks warm. Thomas, her cousin’s new husband, had always moved in circles far removed from her own modest life in Brooklyn.
That Jackson Hayes, publishing wonderkind, 35-year-old CEO and rumored billionaire, was part of that world, shouldn’t have surprised her. May I? He asked, gesturing to the empty chair beside her at the otherwise vacant table. She nodded, suddenly hyper aware of her surroundings. Jackson Hayes had barely spoken 10 sentences to her in 3 years, despite her office being just two floors below his.
Their interactions had been limited to crowded elevator rides and the occasional companywide meeting, where he’d always been polite but distant, surrounded by an impenetrable entourage of executives. Are you’re Rebecca Walsh, right? Acquisitions and development. He settled into the chair with casual grace, his custom tuxedo making every other man in the room look like they were wearing rentals.
You know who I am. She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. His smile deepened, revealing a dimple in his right cheek she’d never noticed before. I make it my business to know the people responsible for our most promising titles.
The Montana Sky series you acquired last year is outperforming projections by 28%. Rebecca blinked, momentarily speechless. She’d fought for months to get that romance series green lit, convinced it would resonate with readers despite its unknown author. That Jackson Hayes not only knew about it, but had tracked its performance, sent a flutter of professional pride through her chest.
Thank you. I believed in those books. She took another sip of champagne to steady herself. But that doesn’t explain why you’re sitting at the sad singles table with me instead of up there with Thomas and the A-list guests. Jackson’s expression shifted. A flash of something vulnerable crossing his features before his easy confidence returned.

Maybe I’m tired of people who only see the CEO and not the person. Before Rebecca could respond, a commotion erupted at the edge of the dance floor. Her daughter Penny was standing frozen. Her flower girl dress splattered with what appeared to be red wine, tears welling in her big blue eyes as a waiter apologized profusely.
“Excuse me,” Rebecca said, already halfway out of her chair. But Jackson touched her arm lightly. “Let me,” he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a monogrammed handkerchief. “I have nieces. I’m good at this.” Before she could protest, he crossed to Penny with long, easy strides.
Rebecca watched in astonishment as the intimidating CEO of Meridian Publishing knelt to her daughter’s level, produced a quarter from behind her ear in a magic trick that made Penny’s eyes widen and then offered the handkerchief with a conspiratorial wink. Within moments, Penny was giggling as Jackson dabbed at her dress. The crisis averted. When they returned to the table, Penny was chattering animatedly about how Mr.
Jackson had promised her the stain was actually invisible ink that only brave flower girls could see. “Mom, can I go back to Aunt Clare? We’re having a dance contest,” Penny asked. The incident already forgotten in the resilient way of children. “Of course, sweetheart. Just be careful with your dress.” As Penny skipped away, Rebecca turned to Jackson, who had reclaimed his seat beside her. “Thank you for that.
You’re surprisingly good with children. My sister has twins. Seven years old and perpetually covered in something sticky. He shrugged, but his eyes followed Penny with genuine warmth. She’s wonderful, your daughter. She has your smile. Rebecca felt something inside her soften. Thank you.
She’s the best thing in my life and her father. The question was casual, but his eyes were careful assessing. Not in the picture. Rebecca’s tone made it clear the topic wasn’t open for discussion. 3 years gone and counting. Jackson nodded, accepting the boundary.
An awkward silence fell between them until he glanced toward the dance floor, where couples swayed beneath crystal chandeliers and twisting garlands of white roses. “Would you like to dance?” he asked just as Rebecca’s cousin Melissa appeared beside their table, slightly breathless in her wedding gown. “Becky, there you are.” Melissa’s gaze darted between Rebecca and Jackson, poorly disguised curiosity blooming on her face.

I didn’t realize you knew each other. We work together, Rebecca explained quickly. Rebecca is one of our most talented editors, Jackson added smoothly, standing to kiss Melissa’s cheek. Your cousin has an exceptional eye for stories that resonate. Melissa’s perfectly groomed eyebrows rose as she gave Rebecca an impressed look. Well, you should have said something.
We’ve got you seated all the way back here when you should be up with us. Her attention shifted to Jackson. And you, sir, are supposed to give a toast in 20 minutes. Thomas is looking everywhere for you, Jackson grimaced. Duty calls, I’m afraid. As Melissa fluttered away to greet other guests, Rebecca felt a pang of disappointment that surprised her with its intensity.
“Save me a dance?” Jackson asked, his voice lowered just for her. Before she could answer, her phone buzzed with a text. Rebecca glanced down and felt the blood drain from her face. “What’s wrong?” Jackson’s question cut through her panic. It’s my babysitter for tonight. She’s canceled. Family emergency. Rebecca’s mind raced. I need to find someone else or take Penny home, but my apartment is an hour away and she’s having such a good time.
Jackson hesitated, then leaned closer. I have a suite here at the hotel for after the reception. You and Penny could use it if you need to stay over. Rebecca stared at him, trying to assess his motives, but found only genuine concern in his expression.
That’s very generous, but I couldn’t impose Rebecca, he interrupted gently. I’ll be staying with Thomas and some old college friends at his family’s place tonight. The suite would just sit empty otherwise. As she wavered, uncertain, a photographer approached their table. “Let’s get one of the happy couple,” he called cheerfully, clearly mistaking them for a pair.
Before Rebecca could correct him, Jackson’s hand found hers under the table. He leaned close, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered words that would change everything. Pretend I’m your husband tonight, just for the wedding. It’ll be easier than explaining, and I’ve seen how your cousin’s friends look at you, the pitying glances when they think you’re not watching.” Rebecca froze, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
The rational part of her brain screamed that this was her boss, that this was inappropriate, that this could only lead to complications. But another part, the part that had endured three years of lonely dinners, of pitying looks at school functions, of trying to be both mother and father to Penny.
That part, whispered, just once, wouldn’t it be nice to pretend? All right, she heard herself say, the words slipping out before she could reconsider. Just for tonight. Jackson’s smile was both triumph and promise as he slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her close for the photograph. Trust me,” he murmured. By morning, no one will be pitying Rebecca Walsh anymore.
What neither of them could have known was how a single night of pretend would unravel secrets both had kept buried for years. Secrets that would either tear them apart or bind them together forever. Block two, character development and conflict. Rebecca’s evening transformed with startling speed.
Within an hour of Jackson’s whispered proposition, she found herself swept into a dizzying performance as his supposed wife. The pretense that began as a shield against pity evolved into something more complex with each passing minute. Jackson played his role with effortless charm, his hand resting lightly against the small of her back as he guided her through conversations with New York’s elite, introducing her as the brilliant editor who keeps Meridian’s bestseller list stacked.
You’re surprisingly good at this,” she murmured as they swayed on the dance floor, careful to maintain a respectable distance despite his hand warm against her waist. “At dancing,” his eyes crinkled with amusement. “At pretending.” She studied his face, searching for cracks in the facade. “Most CEOs I’ve met couldn’t act their way out of a paper bag.
” Jackson spun her gently, bringing her back a fraction closer than before. “Who says I’m pretending?” The question hung between them, loaded with implications Rebecca didn’t dare examine. She changed the subject. Your toast was beautiful. I didn’t realize you and Thomas were so close. Something flickered in Jackson’s expression. A shadow of an emotion she couldn’t name. We were once.
Time and circumstances have a way of creating distance even between old friends. What changed? He hesitated. Success changes relationships. People expect things from you or they assume you’ve changed when you haven’t. His voice lowered. That’s why this is refreshing. You don’t treat me like I’m made of money. Rebecca laughed softly.
That’s because I’ve seen you spill coffee all over yourself when the elevator jerked between floors last Christmas. His surprised laugh resonated through her. You remember that? Hard to forget the CEO of Meridian Publishing cursing like a sailor while wearing a reindeer tie. Jackson’s smile softened into something genuine.
See, that’s exactly what I mean. As the dance ended, Rebecca caught sight of Penny yawning widely by the dessert table. I should get her to bed. It’s well past her bedtime. Jackson nodded discreetly passing her a key card. Sweet. 12:17. Take your time. I’ll make excuses if anyone asks.
Thank you, she said, the words inadequate for the strange kindness he’d shown her and Penny throughout the evening. 30 minutes later, after settling an exhausted Penny in one of the suites two bedrooms, Rebecca stood in the opulent living area of Jackson’s hotel accommodation, feeling desperately out of place.
The suite was larger than her entire Brooklyn apartment with floor to-seeiling windows overlooking the glittering Manhattan skyline. She kicked off her heels and padded to the window, pressing her palm against the cool glass as she tried to process the bizarre turn her evening had taken. A soft knock at the door startled her.
She opened it to find Jackson, his bow tie undone and hanging loose around his neck. “Sorry to intrude,” he said, standing in the hallway rather than entering. “I forgot my overnight bag.” “Oh, of course.” She stepped aside to let him in, suddenly conscious of her bare feet and slightly disheveled appearance. Jackson retrieved a leather duffel from the closet, then paused, seeming reluctant to leave. “How’s Penny?” “Out like a light.
This place is nicer than anywhere she’s ever slept. She thinks we’re in a princess castle,” he smiled. But there was something guarded in his expression now, the easy camaraderie of their dance floor conversation fading. “Jackson, why are you really doing this?” Rebecca asked, unable to contain the question any longer. “The pretending, the sweet.
It’s generous, but but you’re wondering what’s in it for me? He set down his bag, his expression unreadable. Would you believe me if I said I was just being kind? In my experience, men, especially powerful men, aren’t kind without reason. Something hardened in his eyes. That says more about the men you’ve known than about me.
Rebecca crossed her arms defensively. You can’t blame me for being cautious. You’re my boss, Jackson. This whole situation is complicated. Is that why you’ve turned down every promotion I’ve authorized for you over the past 2 years? Rebecca stared at him, genuinely shocked.
What are you talking about? Jackson ran a hand through his dark hair, dishevelling it further. Three times, Rebecca. Three times I’ve approved moving you up to senior editor with a substantial raise. And three times you’ve declined without even discussing it with HR. She felt as if the floor had tilted beneath her feet. That’s impossible. I never received any promotion offers.
Jackson went very still. What did you just say? I’ve never been offered a promotion at Meridian, not once. The silence between them thickened as understanding dawned on both their faces simultaneously. Daniel Morgan, they said in unison. Daniel Morgan, editorial director, and the man directly above Rebecca in Meridian’s hierarchy.
a man who had made his resentment of her clear from day one, who had taken credit for her acquisitions more than once, and who happened to be Jackson’s oldest friend. “He told me you weren’t interested in advancement,” Jackson said slowly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “That you preferred your current position because of Penny, because of the flexibility it offered.
” Rebecca felt a cold fury building inside her. “And you believed him without ever speaking to me directly? He’s been with Meridian since before I took over. We’ve known each other 20 years. Jackson’s expression darkened, but that ends Monday morning. What does his career at Meridian? Jackson’s voice was flat. Brooking no argument.
I’ve suspected for a while that Daniel’s been manipulating situations to his advantage, but this crosses a line. Rebecca sank onto the edge of the sofa, overwhelmed. This explains so much. the way he’s been undermining me, moving my projects to other editors. She looked up at Jackson, her professional frustration momentarily overshadowing the strangeness of their situation.
Do you know he reassigned the Montana Sky author to Brett in romance just last week after I built that relationship for over a year? Jackson’s expression shifted from anger to something more calculating. Is that why you called in sick last Friday? The first sick day you’ve taken in 3 years? Rebecca felt heat rise to her cheeks. I needed time to process. That series meant a lot to me. Jackson sat beside her, careful to leave space between them.
I had no idea this was happening, but that stops now. He hesitated, then added more quietly. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I should have paid closer attention. The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard. This wasn’t the distant executive she glimpsed in corporate meetings or the charming pretend husband from the reception. This was someone else entirely.
A man taking responsibility, showing genuine regret. “Why do you care so much?” she asked before she could stop herself. “I’m just one editor among dozens.” Jackson looked away, his profile sharp against the city lights beyond the window. “Because I started as an editor, too, before the MBA, before the corporate ladder.
I know what it means to love books, to fight for stories you believe in.” He turned back to her, his gaze intense. And because I’ve watched your work from afar, Rebecca, the authors you discover, the manuscripts you champion, they’re always something special. The unexpected praise left her momentarily speechless.
Before she could formulate a response, a small voice came from the bedroom doorway. Mommy, I had a bad dream. Penny stood there in her Disney princess pajamas, clutching the stuffed rabbit she’d had since infancy. Her eyes widened when she spotted Jackson. “Mr. Magic Man, did you come for a sleepover, too?” Rebecca tensed, but Jackson smoothly knelt to Penny’s level. “No, sweetheart.
I just stopped by to make sure you and your mom were comfortable. I heard you had a bad dream,” Penny nodded solemnly. “There was a dragon under the bed.” “That is serious business,” Jackson agreed, matching her grave tone. I happen to know that dragons are terribly afraid of brave flower girls though, especially ones who know how to do magic.
I don’t know any magic, Penny whispered. But her fear was already fading, replaced by curiosity. Sure you do. Jackson reached into his pocket and produced a quarter, the same trick he’d used earlier. Remember this? As Jackson patiently taught Penny the simple slight of hand, Rebecca watched them with a growing knot in her throat.
Her daughter, usually shy around strangers, especially men, was giggling and attempting to mimic Jackson’s movements with clumsy determination. What surprised Rebecca most was Jackson’s patient gentleness, the way he encouraged each attempt with genuine warmth rather than condescension.
When Penny finally mastered the trick, or a 5-year-old’s approximation of it, her face lit with triumphant joy. Now the dragon will be scared of me. Absolutely terrified, Jackson confirmed. Want me to check under the bed just to be sure? After a thorough dragon inspection and two more demonstrations of her new magical powers, Penny allowed Rebecca to tuck her back into bed.
When Rebecca returned to the living room, she found Jackson standing by the window again, his expression pensive. “Thank you for that,” she said quietly. “You didn’t have to be so kind to her.” “It wasn’t kindness. I enjoyed it.” He turned to face her. She’s a remarkable child. She is. Rebecca hesitated, then added, “Her father has never met her.
He was gone before I even knew I was pregnant.” Jackson’s expression remained carefully neutral. His loss. I used to think so. Rebecca sank back onto the sofa. The truth is, it was probably for the best. Michael wasn’t exactly father material. Was he abusive? Jackson’s question was gentle, but direct.
Not physically, just she searched for the right words. Selfish, manipulative, convinced his big break as a musician was just around the corner. While I paid all the bills, she gave a bitter laugh. The irony is he finally did get that record deal 6 months after walking out.
I saw his face on a billboard in Time Square last year. Understanding dawned in Jackson’s eyes. Your ex is Michael Delaney? Rebecca nodded, surprised. You know his music. My niece is obsessed with his last album. Jackson sat beside her again. No wonder you’re wary of men with ambition. The observation was too accurate for comfort.
Rebecca changed the subject. It’s getting late. You should go before people start talking. Let them talk. Jackson’s gaze held hers. Unless you want me to go. The question hung between them, loaded with unspoken implications. For one reckless moment, Rebecca considered asking him to stay.
not as her pretend husband or her boss, but as the man who had shown her glimpses of someone worth knowing throughout this strange evening. Instead, she stood, putting necessary distance between them. This has been unexpected, but we should remember who we are on Monday morning.” Jackson rose as well, retrieving his overnight bag. At the door, he paused.
You know, you never answered my question from earlier about whether I was really pretending. Before Rebecca could respond, he was gone, leaving her alone with the question that would keep her awake long into the night, and the growing suspicion that this masquerade might have awakened feelings neither of them had bargained for.
What she couldn’t know was that Jackson Hayes had secrets of his own, secrets that would soon threaten everything they had begun to build. Monday morning arrived with the harsh clarity of reality. Rebecca stepped into Meridian Publishing’s gleaming lobby with Penny’s sticky goodbye kiss still warm on her cheek and her mind churning with questions about the weekend’s events.
She’d spent Sunday alternating between analyzing every moment with Jackson and firmly reminding herself that it had all been an act, a convenient arrangement that was now concluded. The elevator doors opened to reveal Daniel Morgan himself, his perpetually smug expression souring at the sight of her. Rebecca recovered from your illness, I see. She stepped inside, refusing to be intimidated.
Good morning, Daniel. Yes, thank you for your concern. He snorted, making no attempt to hide his disdain. I’ll need the Mitchell manuscript on my desk by noon. The marketing team has questions. Rebecca maintained her professional smile, despite the familiar twist of frustration.
The Mitchell manuscript was another of her discoveries that Daniel had claimed for himself. Of course, though I should mention that the author specifically requested my feedback on the new chapters. Daniel’s smile tightened. I’m sure you can forward any relevant notes to me. The elevator stopped at the editorial floor. As Rebecca moved to exit, Daniel added, “Oh, and the quarterly review meeting has been moved up.
” Hayes wants all department heads in the conference room at 10:00. Something in his tone caught her attention. Just department heads. Daniel’s smile turned unpleasant. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about executive matters, Rebecca.” The doors closed on his condescending expression, leaving Rebecca seething in the hallway.
The man had systematically undermined her career for years, and she’d let him, partly out of a single mother’s fear of rocking the boat, partly because she’d never had proof of his manipulation until Jackson’s revelation. At precisely 9:57 a.m., Rebecca’s phone chimed with a text from an unknown number. Conference room 10:00 a.m. Don’t be late, Jay.
Her heart skipped as she stared at the message. How had Jackson gotten her personal number? More importantly, why was he summoning her to a meeting explicitly for department heads? At 10:01, Rebecca slipped into the conference room where Meridian’s leadership team was already assembled.
Daniel’s face registered shock, then barely concealed fury at her appearance. Jackson sat at the head of the table, immaculate in a charcoal suit, looking nothing like the relaxed man who had taught her daughter magic tricks two nights ago. Ms. Walsh, thank you for joining us, Jackson said, his voice professional, devoid of the warmth she’d grown accustomed to during their pretense. Please take a seat.
She chose the only available chair directly across from Daniel, whose eyes now darted between her and Jackson with growing suspicion. Before we begin, Jackson continued, I’d like to announce some organizational changes effective immediately. His gaze swept the room, commanding and unyielding. Daniel Morgan will be transitioning out of his role as editorial director.
A stunned silence fell over the conference room. Daniel’s face drained of color. In the interim, Rebecca Walsh will assume his responsibilities while we evaluate permanent restructuring options. Rebecca froze, certain she had misheard. Across the table, Daniel half rose from his chair. This is outrageous. On what grounds? On the grounds of deliberately sabotaging company operations, withholding promotion opportunities from qualified staff, and falsifying communications to senior management. Jackson interrupted his tone glacial. My
office has compiled a detailed report which HR will review with you following this meeting. Rebecca sat motionless as whispers erupted around her. Jackson continued the meeting with ruthless efficiency, outlining quarterly projections and marketing initiatives as if he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in her professional life.
Throughout the hour, she could feel Daniel’s venomous glare promising retribution. When the meeting adjourned, Jackson requested she stay behind. As the room emptied, Daniel lingered in the doorway, his expression dark with rage. You’ll regret this, Hayes,” he said quietly. “Both of you will.” After the door closed, leaving them alone, Rebecca turned to Jackson.
“What just happened?” He loosened his tie slightly, the only hint that the confrontation had affected him. “Justice, I hope, though perhaps I should have warned you first.” “Perhaps.” Rebecca struggled to keep her voice level. “You just put a target on my back in front of the entire executive team. Daniel has powerful friends in this industry. So do I.
Jackson’s expression softened slightly. Rebecca, you earned this promotion three times over. The work you’ve done despite Daniel’s interference proves you’re more than qualified. That’s not the point. She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache building. This looks like favoritism, Jackson. People will talk. Let them.
Your work will speak for itself. Easy for you to say. You’re not the single mother who suddenly appears to be sleeping her way up the corporate ladder. The words hung between them, harsh and un retractable. Jackson’s expression shuddered. Is that what you think this is? He asked quietly.
Rebecca sighed immediately regretting her outburst. No, but it’s what everyone else will think, which is exactly why I requested HR conduct a thorough review of Daniel’s communications before making any announcements. Jackson slid a folder across the table, evidence of his systematic suppression of your advancement, documented and dated.
This promotion is based solely on merit, and anyone who suggests otherwise will find themselves in a very uncomfortable conversation with legal. Rebecca opened the folder, stunned by the comprehensive paper trail had compiled in just one day. How did you get all this so quickly? I’ve had suspicions about Daniel for months. Your situation simply provided the catalyst to investigate thoroughly. He hesitated. This has nothing to do with this weekend.
Rebecca, I give you my word. Something in his earnest expression made her want to believe him. Thank you. But this doesn’t solve the practical problems. I have a 5-year-old daughter, Jackson. The editorial director position requires late nights, weekend work, travel, all negotiable. He leaned forward.
Meridian needs to modernize its approach to working parents anyway. You can set the precedent. Before she could respond, Jackson’s assistant knocked and entered. Mr. Hayes, your 11:00 is waiting, and Ms. Walsh, HR would like to see you to discuss transition details. The moment broken, Rebecca gathered her things. At the door, she paused. For what it’s worth, thank you for believing in me.
Jackson’s smile was brief, but genuine. Prove me right, Rebecca. That’s all the thanks I need. The following weeks passed in a whirlwind as Rebecca navigated her new role. True to his word, Jackson had ensured her position came with flexibility for Penny’s schedule. Though the workload still left her exhausted most evenings, she saw little of the CEO directly.
Their interactions limited to formal meetings where he maintained scrupulous professionalism. Three weeks after her promotion, Rebecca was working late, reviewing contracts for a major acquisition, when a knock came at her new office door. Jackson stood in the threshold, his suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms.
“Still here?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Where’s Penny tonight?” “Sleep over with her cousin.” Rebecca sat down her pen, suddenly aware of the late hour and their solitude on the otherwise empty executive floor. I’m taking advantage of the rare freedom to catch up. He nodded, understanding in his eyes.
Have you eaten? The question caught her off guard. I had a granola bar around 6. That’s not dinner. Come on, he straightened. There’s a tie place around the corner that stays open late. Rebecca hesitated. Jackson, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s just food, Rebecca. His expression remained carefully neutral. between colleagues.
Against her better judgment, she found herself agreeing. 20 minutes later, they sat in a quiet booth in the back of a tiny restaurant, the rich sense of lemongrass and curry surrounding them. Away from the office, some of the tension between them eased as they discussed manuscripts and industry gossip.
“You’ve done remarkable work these past weeks,” Jackson said as they finished their meal. The Morrison deal alone would have justified your promotion. Rebecca smiled, allowing herself to feel pride in her accomplishments. It feels good to finally have the authority to back my instincts.
Speaking of authority, Jackson set down his fork, his expression growing serious. There’s something you should know. Daniel’s been meeting with executives at Paragon Press. Rebecca’s stomach tightened. Paragon was Meridian’s biggest competitor. You think he’s giving them information? I know he is. Jackson’s voice hardened. specifically.
He’s targeting your authors, trying to convince them to break contracts and move to Paragon. He can’t do that. The non-compete in his severance is being flagrantly violated. Yes, Jackson sighed. Unfortunately, proving it requires catching him in the act, which is proving difficult. Rebecca pushed her plate away, appetite gone. The Montana Sky author called me yesterday, said she’d received a better offer, but wouldn’t say from whom.
That fits the pattern. Jackson reached across the table, briefly touching her hand before withdrawing. I’m sorry to burden you with this, but I needed you to know what we’re up against. The simple gesture of his hand on hers lingered like a brand.
Rebecca forced herself to focus on the business threat rather than the confusing pull she felt toward him. What do we do? We fight back. Jackson’s eyes gleamed with determination. Starting with the author retreat this weekend in the Catskills. Rebecca blinked. That’s in 3 days. I can’t possibly Penny bring her, Jackson said simply.
The resort has excellent child care facilities, and this retreat is crucial for securing our relationship with key authors. If Daniel’s making moves, we need to counter them immediately. Jackson, I can’t just Rebecca. His voice softened. I’m not asking as your boss right now. I’m asking as someone who believes in you and knows what you’re capable of. We need you there. The way he said we sent a complicated shiver through her.
Three days in the mountains with Jackson, surrounded by authors and industry people with penny and tow. The prospect was both exciting and terrifying. “I’ll need to make arrangements,” she said finally. His answering smile was worth the logistical headache she knew would follow.
Friday afternoon found Rebecca and Penny checking into Lake View Lodge, an upscale resort nestled among the autumn painted mountains. The retreat’s welcoming reception was already underway in the main hall, leaving them to navigate the check-in process alone. “I’m sorry, Miss Walsh, but we don’t have a reservation under your name,” the receptionist said with practiced regret.
Rebecca frowned. “That’s impossible. Meridian Publishing booked a block of rooms. I should be on the list with the other editors. The woman checked again, shaking her head. I’m showing all the Meridian rooms as assigned, but there’s nothing for Walsh. And I’m afraid we’re fully booked this weekend with the retreat and a wedding.
Penny tugged at Rebecca’s blazer. Mom, I’m hungry. You promised dinner. Rebecca felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. After a frantic day of preparation and a 3-hour drive with a restless 5-year-old, this complication was the last thing she needed.
Is there anything available nearby? Another hotel? Not within 30 mi, I’m afraid. The receptionist’s sympathetic smile did nothing to ease Rebecca’s growing panic. Leaf season is our busiest time. What seems to be the problem? Jackson’s voice came from behind her, deep and concerned. Rebecca turned to find him approaching from the reception, looking unfairly handsome in casual attire, dark jeans and a blue sweater that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.
There’s been a mistake with the reservation,” she explained, struggling to maintain her professional composure. “Apparently, I don’t have a room,” Jackson’s brow furrowed. “That’s impossible. I confirmed the bookings myself yesterday.” The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly as she recognized the CEO. “Mr.
Hayes, I assure you, we’ve assigned all the rooms requested by your company. Perhaps there was a miscommunication. A terrible suspicion formed in Rebecca’s mind. Or perhaps it wasn’t a mistake at all, she said quietly. For Jackson’s ears only. Daniel still has contacts in administrative support. Understanding darkened Jackson’s expression. He turned back to the receptionist with renewed purpose.
What about my accommodation? I believe I’m in the lakeside suite. Yes, sir. The presidential suite with two bedrooms. Jackson nodded decisively. Perfect. Ms. Walsh and her daughter will be staying there. Please arrange for her luggage to be brought up immediately. Jackson, no, Rebecca protested once the receptionist moved away.
We can’t share a suite. It’s inappropriate. It’s a two-bedroom suite with a living area larger than my first apartment, he counted completely appropriate. Unless you’d prefer to drive back to the city tonight. Penny, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly perked up. Are we having a sleepover with Mr. Magic Man.
Jackson’s serious expression melted into a warm smile as he crouched to Penny’s level. Hello there, brave flower girl. I heard you might teach me some new magic tricks this weekend. As Penny enthusiastically launched into a description of the card trick she’d learned from a YouTube video, Rebecca watched the interaction with a growing sense of both gratitude and trepidation.
Jackson had just neatly maneuvered her into an arrangement that would definitely raise eyebrows among their colleagues. What worried her more was how natural it felt, the three of them together, like some kind of unit, like something she’d stopped allowing herself to want years ago.
It settled, then, Jackson said, straightening up and offering Penny his hand. “Shall we go find some dinner for this hungry magician?” As they walked toward the restaurant, Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. She glanced back to find a man observing them intently from across the lobby, a man whose face she recognized instantly, despite never having met him in person. “Daniel Morgan had just arrived at the retreat.
” And the look in his eyes promised that her complicated weekend had just become dangerous. “Don’t look now, but we have company,” Rebecca murmured to Jackson as they settled at a corner table in the resort’s restaurant. She discreetly tilted her head toward the entrance where Daniel Morgan stood, scanning the room with calculated precision.
Jackson’s expression hardened momentarily before he composed himself. Let him watch. We have nothing to hide. Don’t we? Rebecca helped Penny with her menu, acutely aware of how this scene must appear to onlookers, the three of them like a family, with Penny chattering animatedly as Jackson helped her sound out the longer words on the children’s menu.
Before Jackson could respond, a tall woman with elegantly stre gray hair approached their table, her face lighting with genuine pleasure. Jackson Hayes, I was beginning to think you were avoiding the mingling portion of these events entirely. She turned her warm smile to Rebecca. And you must be the new editorial director I’ve heard so much about, Rebecca Walsh. Yes, I’m Elellanena Winters.
Rebecca nearly dropped her menu. Elellanena Winters was literary royalty, the best-selling author who had put Meridian Publishing on the map 15 years ago. Her historical romance series had sold over 20 million copies worldwide. Ms. Winters, it’s an honor, Rebecca managed, extending her hand. Your work on the Bedford Chronicles inspired me to pursue publishing.
Ellena waved away the formality. Ellanena, please. And who is this young lady? She asked, smiling at Penny. I’m Penny Walsh and I know magic,” the little girl declared proudly. Ellanena laughed delightedly. “What a fortunate coincidence. I’m in desperate need of some magic for my new book. Perhaps you could assist me.” As Penny enthusiastically agreed, Ellena looked between Rebecca and Jackson with shrewd knowing eyes.
“You make a lovely family. How refreshing to see Meridian executives who understand the importance of balance.” Before Rebecca could correct the misunderstanding, Eleanor had invited herself to join them, effectively claiming their dinner as an impromptu business meeting that kept other retreat attendees, including a fuming Daniel at bay.
Throughout the meal, Rebecca found herself increasingly impressed by how seamlessly Jackson adapted to Penny’s presence, cutting her chicken into bite-sized pieces without being asked, and engaging her in conversation as naturally as he discussed publishing trends with Elellanena. Your daughter is absolutely delightful,” Eleanor commented as dessert arrived.
“And quite taken with your husband, if I may say so.” Rebecca nearly choked on her water. “Oh, Jackson isn’t We are colleagues,” Jackson interrupted smoothly, his eyes meeting Rebecca’s with a silent message, though I consider myself fortunate to know both of these remarkable Walsh women. Elellanena’s expression remained skeptical, but she graciously changed the subject, turning their conversation toward her upcoming manuscript.
By the time they parted ways, she had invited Rebecca to breakfast the following morning to discuss a significant change in her publishing plans, a private meeting that would ordinarily have been reserved for Jackson himself. “That was quite a coup,” Jackson observed as they walked Penny back to the suite.
The little girl skipping ahead within eyesight, but out of earshot. Elellanena doesn’t usually warm to new executives so quickly. Rebecca felt a flush of professional pride. “She’s incredible. I’ve admired her work for years. She seemed to think we’re married,” Jackson said casually, his hands in his pockets. “You were about to correct her,” Rebecca glanced at him sideways.
“Wasn’t that the right thing to do?” “Strategically?” “Perhaps not,” his voice lowered. “Daniel was watching the entire time. If Eleanor Winters believes we’re a package deal, it strengthens your position considerably. So, we’re back to pretending. Rebecca couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. Jackson stopped walking, turning to face her fully.
Is that what you think I’m doing? Pretending? The intensity in his gaze made her heart flutter treacherously. Before she could respond, Penny called out, having discovered the indoor pool visible through glass doors at the end of the corridor. The moment shattered as they hurried to catch up with her.
Later that night, after Penny had fallen asleep in the sweet second bedroom, Rebecca found herself alone with Jackson in the spacious living area. He stood by the windows overlooking the moonlit lake, a glass of whiskey in hand, looking pensive. “You never answered my question,” he said without turning.
“About whether you think I’m pretending.” Rebecca approached cautiously, maintaining a careful distance. “I don’t know what to think, Jackson. One moment you’re my boss, the next you’re teaching my daughter magic tricks and charming literary icons on my behalf. He turned to face her, his expression unguarded in a way she’d rarely seen. Have you considered that all of those things might be equally genuine.
Why? The question escaped before she could stop it. Why me? Why us? Jackson set down his glass and took a step closer. Because from the moment I saw you sitting alone at that wedding, something clicked into place. Something I wasn’t looking for but can’t ignore. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking less like the confident CEO and more like a man struggling to articulate something important.
The way you fight for your authors, the way you’ve raised Penny on your own, the way you never asked for special treatment despite Daniel’s sabotage. You’re extraordinary, Rebecca. She shook her head, backing away slightly. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Our professional relationship is complicated enough without adding personal feelings to the mix. Is that all you’re afraid of? Professional complications? His voice softened.
Or are you afraid of trusting someone again after Michael left you to raise Penny alone? The accurate observation stung. That’s not fair. No, it isn’t. He closed the distance between them, close enough that she could smell his cologne. Life rarely is. But hiding from possibilities because we’re afraid of being hurt, that’s a choice. Rebecca felt her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble. Jackson, I have responsibilities.
Penny has to be my priority. I can’t risk Mom. Penny’s sleepy voice came from the bedroom doorway. I had another bad dream. The moment fractured as Rebecca immediately went to her daughter, gathering her into her arms. It’s okay, sweetheart. Just a dream. The dragon again? Jackson asked gently, keeping his distance.
Penny nodded against Rebecca’s shoulder. He was chasing us. You too, Mr. Jackson. Well, that won’t do. Jackson approached carefully, kneeling to their level. Remember what we practiced? Dragons can’t stand brave magic. As he once again patiently guided Penny through the simple coin trick, Rebecca watched them with a growing ache in her chest.
This man who ran a publishing empire was on his knees in pajama pants and a t-shirt, entirely focused on comforting her frightened child. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain her emotional distance. After settling Penny back in bed, Rebecca returned to find Jackson preparing tea in the sweets kitchenet.
“I thought you might need this,” he said, offering her a steaming mug. “Chamomile! My mother always said it helps with worry.” She accepted it gratefully. Thank you for everything with Penny. She’s easy to care about. His smile was gentle like her mother. Rebecca sipped her tea, using the moment to gather her thoughts. Jackson, whatever this is between us.
It’s complicated by a dozen different factors. My promotion, your position, Daniel’s vendetta, Penny. I know, he leaned against the counter. But I think it’s worth exploring despite the complications. Unless you don’t feel anything for me beyond professional respect. The direct question demanded honesty. You know that’s not true.
The admission hung between them, changing the atmosphere in the room. Jackson set down his mug and took a careful step toward her. Rebecca. A sharp knock at the sweet door interrupted him. Frowning. Jackson moved to answer it, checking the peepphole before his expression darkened. He opened the door to reveal a stone-faced security guard.
Mr. Hayes, I apologize for the late hour, but we’ve had a situation reported that requires your immediate attention. Someone has accessed the conference room where tomorrow’s contract negotiations are set up and appears to have photographed confidential materials.
Jackson’s posture instantly shifted to full CEO mode. When 20 minutes ago, the night manager is reviewing security footage now. Daniel,” Rebecca said quietly. Jackson nodded grimly. “I need to handle this. Stay here. Lock the door. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” After he left, Rebecca found herself too wired to sleep. She paced the suite, reviewing the day’s events and the conversation that had been interrupted.
Whatever Jackson had been about to say or do before security arrived, the moment had passed. Around midnight, unable to settle, she decided to check her work emails on her laptop. Opening it, she discovered a new message from an unfamiliar address with the subject line, “Proof of Hayes’s manipulation.
” Against her better judgment, she clicked it open to find several attached photos, images clearly taken with a telephoto lens through the restaurant windows earlier that evening. There she was with Jackson and Penny, looking for all the world like a family unit. The accompanying message was brief but chilling. Did he tell you about the bet? Ask Hayes about our Dartmouth wager.
Ask him how much money he stands to win by getting you into his bed. A friend. Rebecca stared at the screen, nausea rising in her throat. A bet. Could Jackson’s interest in her really be part of some decades old fraternity game? It seemed ludicrous, yet doubt crept in like poison.
How else to explain the sudden attention from a man who had barely acknowledged her existence for 3 years. Her phone buzzed with a text from Jackson. Security issue contained. Daniel caught on camera and escorted from premises. Will explain everything in morning. Sleep well. Rebecca set the phone down without responding. The emails accusations echoing in her mind. She needed answers, but confronting Jackson now in the middle of the night in a suite they were sharing seemed unwise.
Better to wait until morning when she could approach the situation with professional distance. But sleep proved elusive as memories of their almost kiss collided with the emails ugly insinuations. By dawn, Rebecca had made a decision. She woke Penny early, packed their bags, and left a brief note for Jackson, explaining that they’d decided to return to the city for a family emergency.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. Her family’s emotional well-being was indeed at stake. The drive back to Brooklyn gave her time to think, to process both her growing feelings for Jackson and the disturbing accusation. Part of her wanted to dismiss the email as Daniel’s desperate attempt to sabotage her, but another part, the part that had been abandoned by Michael, whispered that men with power and money played by different rules.
By Monday morning, Rebecca had resolved to confront Jackson directly. She arrived at the office early, stealing herself for the inevitable encounter, only to find an urgent message requesting her immediate presence at a special board meeting. Heart pounding, she entered the boardroom to find the entire executive team assembled.
Minus Jackson, the chief financial officer, a normally stoic woman in her 60s, addressed the somber gathering. For those who haven’t heard the news, Jackson Hayes was involved in a serious car accident returning from the Catskills retreat early yesterday morning. He’s currently in intensive care at Manhattan Memorial.
The room spun around Rebecca as details filtered through her shock. Black ice on mountain roads, a guardrail failure, critical but stable condition. All she could think was that he had been driving back early, likely because of her abrupt departure. The next 3 days passed in a blur of meetings, hospital visits where she was turned away for not being family, and sleepless nights plagued by regret. She’d never even given Jackson a chance to explain the emails accusations.
On Thursday afternoon, as she sat in her office reviewing contracts with Mechanical Efficiency, her assistant announced an unexpected visitor. Ms. Walsh, there’s a Ms. Hayes here to see you. She says she’s Jackson’s sister. Rebecca looked up to find a woman with Jackson’s same dark hair and bourbon colored eyes, though her expression held none of his warmth. Catherine Hayes, the woman introduced herself with cool precision.
My brother regained consciousness this morning and has been asking for you, quite insistently, in fact. Relief flooded through Rebecca, quickly followed by apprehension. He’s awake. The doctors say he’ll recover. Apparently, my brother is too stubborn to die before resolving whatever situation exists between you two.
Catherine’s assessing gaze reminded Rebecca uncomfortably of being examined under a microscope. He mentioned something about a misunderstanding involving Daniel Morgan and an old college bet. Rebecca’s stomach dropped. So, it’s true. Catherine’s expression softened slightly. I think you should hear the full story from Jackson himself.
My car is waiting downstairs if you’d like to accompany me to the hospital. 45 minutes later, Rebecca stood hesitantly in the doorway of a private hospital room. Jackson looked pale against the white sheets, a bandage covering part of his forehead, his arm in a cast, but unmistakably alive and alert. Rebecca, her name on his lips sounded like both a prayer and a plea. You came.
She approached the bed cautiously. Your sister can be very persuasive. Jonah Catherine has that effect on people. A ghost of his usual smile appeared, though usually she’s scaring them away from me, not bringing them to my bedside. Jackson, about the email, the bet. He closed his eyes briefly. Daniel’s final attempt to drive a wedge between us.
Clever of him to use a partial truth rather than an outright lie. Rebecca tensed. So, there was a bet. 20 years ago in college, Jackson shifted, wincing slightly. Thomas and Daniel and I made ridiculous wages about everything. One night, particularly drunk, we bet on which of us would be first to date someone from every floor of the university library. He met her eyes directly, juvenile, objectifying, and something I’m not proud of.
But it ended there, Rebecca. I never collected on it, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Then why would Daniel? Because he knew it would sound plausible enough to make you doubt me. Jackson reached for her hand with his uninjured one. Rebecca, I’ve spent the past three years watching you fight for authors you believe in, seeing your integrity and talent.
Falling in, he caught himself, then continued more carefully, developing feelings for you that have nothing to do with ancient history and everything to do with who you are. The sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe him. 3 years, but you barely spoke to me before the wedding. because you reported to Daniel and because I was trying to maintain professional boundaries. His grip on her hand tightened.
The wedding just gave me an excuse to finally approach you to see if there might be something worth exploring between us. Rebecca found herself at a crossroads. Trust this man who had shown her nothing but respect and kindness or retreat behind the walls that had protected her since Michael’s abandonment. I need you to understand something, she said finally. Penny isn’t just a part of my life. She is my life.
Anyone I allow close to me has to accept that reality. Rebecca. Jackson’s expression softened. I adore Penny. Her magic tricks, her dragon fears, her endless questions. She’s extraordinary, just like her mother. And the professional complications. I won’t sacrifice the career I’ve worked so hard to build.
Even for? She hesitated, not quite ready to name what was growing between them. Even for me. Jackson smiled fully now despite his injuries. I wouldn’t expect you to. In fact, I’d be disappointed if you did. We’ll figure out the professional boundaries. Companies have policies for a reason. A knock at the door preceded Catherine’s return.
Sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone very insistent about seeing Jackson. She stepped aside to reveal Penny, clutching her stuffed rabbit and looking anxious. I told her you were hurt, Rebecca explained, surprised. She insisted on making you a getwell card. She hadn’t intended to bring Penny, having left her with a neighbor, but the little girl had been inconsolable when she learned Mr. Magic Man was in the hospital.
Jackson’s face lit up as Penny approached the bed cautiously. Mr. Jackson, does it hurt a lot? Less now that you’re here, he said gently. I heard you brought me something special. Penny solemnly presented a handmade card covered in glitter and crayon dragons. It’s magic, she whispered. to make the dragons stay away while you sleep.
” As Jackson examined the card with exaggerated wonder, making Penny giggle with his exuberant praise, Rebecca felt the last of her resistance melting away. Whatever complications lay ahead, whatever professional hurdles they would need to navigate, the connection between them, all three of them, felt too genuine to deny.
Six months later, Rebecca stood on the terrace of Jackson’s Hampton’s home, watching as he chased a laughing penny across the beach below. The spring breeze carried the scent of salt and new beginnings, as she twisted the engagement ring that had appeared on her finger just last night, after a careful proposal that had included both her approval and Penny’s enthusiastic consent.
Elellanena Winters approached, champagne flutes in hand. Congratulations again, my dear. Though I must say, I saw this coming from that first dinner at the retreat. Rebecca smiled, accepting the glass. Was it that obvious? To anyone with eyes for romance, Elellanena confirmed with a knowing twinkle. I’ve written enough love stories to recognize one unfolding before me.
Below, Jackson had scooped Penny onto his shoulders, spinning in circles that sent her into peels of delighted laughter. Their joy was infectious, radiating across the distance. “He’s good with her,” Eleanor observed. “That’s rare, you know, a man who truly sees a child as a gift rather than a complication. We’re still figuring it out,” Rebecca admitted.
“Balancing our professional lives with the personal, making sure Penny feels secure with all the changes. Life is never perfectly balanced, dear.” Elellanena patted her hand affectionately, “But love makes the wobbling worthwhile. As the sunset painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, Jackson and Penny made their way back up the beach hand in hand.
Seeing Rebecca, Penny broke into a run. Mom, Jackson taught me how to find sealass. We’re going to make a collection. Jackson followed at a more sedate pace, his eyes finding Rebecca’s with a warmth that still made her heart skip. She’s a natural treasure hunter, he said, wrapping an arm around Rebecca’s waist when he reached her. Just like her mother, finding value where others don’t look.
Later that night, with Penny asleep in her new bedroom, decorated with stars that glowed like magic in the darkness, Rebecca and Jackson stood on the moonlit terrace. “Any regrets?” he asked softly, drawing her close. Rebecca thought of the winding path that had led them here, from a lonely wedding table to a hospital bedside, from professional complications to the family they were creating together.
Just one, she said, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes, that we didn’t practice our husband wife pretense more thoroughly before making it official. Jackson laughed, the sound carrying across the quiet beach. I believe we have a lifetime to perfect that particular performance, as his lips found hers under the starllet sky.
Rebecca silently thanked whatever twist of fate had placed her at that wedding table, alone, but not for long. Sometimes the most unexpected beginnings led to the happiest endings, especially when a little magic was involved.