by Lila Monroe
Jack looks bewildered. “It must have slipped my mind,” he says. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in making the plans, getting everything moving quickly. But it’s a natural next step. This will be great.”
“Great for you, maybe!” I explode. “But it’s my company. I decide where we work and who we hire. You didn’t even ask!”
“I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you trusted me to know what I was doing.” He frowns. “I have done this plenty of times before, McKenna. I wouldn’t send you in the wrong direction.”
“That’s not the point,” I cry. “Maybe I’d have agreed anyway. But you can’t just skip the whole conversation and make decisions for me. You’re a minority investor. Minority! I did the deal that way for a reason, so I wouldn’t have to give up any control. But now here I am, the last one to know about every key decision you’ve taken on yourself to make!”
Jack steps back. “I don’t know what to say other than that I’m sorry. I thought this was what you wanted—a big launch, making waves. We can do that. It’s already in motion.”
Before I can answer, there’s a soft rap on the door. Hallie peeks in. “Jack,” she says, looking reluctant. “Your flight for Miami leaves in an hour.”
“Thanks. Have the car come around.”
She ducks back out, but I’m still in a state of disbelief over here. “You’re leaving now?”
“I have this trip.” Jack still seems confused. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t run this past you, but it’s all for the best, I promise. You’re going to love working here, and hey, just think about it. I’ll be right down the hall whenever you need to let off steam.”
He winks, then drops a kiss on my cheek and is out the door before I can even manage a frustrated, “Mnnrugh!”
I look around. The frosted glass walls are too polished. There’s no thud of bass rising through the floor. This isn’t my office. It doesn’t feel like mine at all. And Jack didn’t get that, not even a little bit.
A wave of exhaustion rolls over me. I sink down on the floor and lean back against the wall.
Welcome home, I guess.
My phone buzzes. I pull it out, expecting Riley or Warren, but it’s an alert for a news story mentioning Connective, Inc. As I blink at it, another pops up, and another.
What’s going on?
I click through to the first hit, an article on Digital Today. One of their reporters, Nelle Castle, had an interview with Jack. He must have talked up his recent investment. I skim down through the text to find the mention.
My thumb stills over the screen. My heart starts to sink even further than before. I think it’s going to drop right through the floor.
Callahan couldn’t be more excited to see his newest project, the dating app Perfect Match, off the ground. “I know a winner when I see one,” he enthuses. “I can’t wait to watch the company grow under my guidance. When I’m through, no one will look at online dating the same way again.”
There’s more—more of the same. How pleased Jack is with the app. How he’s going to bring it to the world. His project. His guidance.
The article doesn’t even mention my name.
A lump rises in my throat. I swallow it, but the bitter taste stays. What the hell is happening? I knew that bringing an investor on would shake things up, but I thought it would be minor shaking, not these earthquakes.
Moving me into the office of his own accord. Hiring new employees without even talking to me. And now this …
I thought you trusted me, Jack said when we were arguing. The thing is, I did. I never thought he’d hijack my entire company. Take it over as if Perfect Match is his brainchild, not mine. My hand tightens around the phone. How could I have misjudged him that badly?
I thought he was the perfect investor for Perfect Match. I was starting to think he was pretty much the perfect guy.
Have I made a huge mistake?
25
McKenna
“It still doesn’t feel right,” I mutter, peering up at the skylight over our new office space. The sunlight is too bright. The chair I’m sitting in is too boxy and modern. Even the air tastes too … crisp, or something.
“What are you talking about? This is heaven!” Riley is sprawled on the brand-new sectional couch that takes up half our main room. I have my own office off to one side, and Warren has his own window-less cave—better to see the screens—in the back. We’re on the second floor with three other companies, all sharing a big open-plan kitchen/lounge/game area in the middle of the floor. “If you let yourself, you could actually like it.”
“It’d be a lot easier to like it if we’d had a little warning.” I scowl at my laptop, the beat-up MacBook that looks out of place compared to the shiny new equipment stacked at one end of the office. “I still can’t believe he just assumed he could stick us wherever he wanted.”
Warren spins in his new chair as if testing out the mechanics. “C’mon, this is amazing. You were always saying we would need more staff and equipment. And there are some great people working here to bounce ideas off of.” He’s been hanging out with the Maverick-invested tech bros in between programming sessions.
“And now we’ve got free vending machines!” Riley beams. “All the Kind bars and smoothies you can handle. A complimentary gym membership. My abs aren’t going to know what hit them.”
“Traitors,” I grumble. “We had a good thing going in the old place.”
“Sure we did. But now we can do better.” Riley waves her phone at me. “You need to relax. Jack will be back on Monday, right? You can have it out with him properly then. Until then, stop moping. Let’s make the most of it!”
She’s right. I know that logically, I should be thrilled by this setup. The problem is, I can’t relax. Every time I look around the office, every time I breathe, I remember Jack’s total confusion when I confronted him. He’s so oblivious it didn’t even occur to him that he couldn’t simply take over my company.
Argh.
Sherice knocks on the door. One benefit of the new office space is our very own admin assistant. “McKenna? Nelle Castle from Digital Today is here for the interview.”
I get up, rolling the tension out of my shoulders. Jack arranged this, too, before he left. But I’m not going to let my frustrations get in the way of promoting Perfect Match. I still have a product to sell here.
“Send her in,” I say, trying to fix an upbeat grin on my face.
Nelle Castle strides in with loads of cheerful energy and a casual jeans-and-shirt outfit. “Ms. Delaney! It’s wonderful to meet you. I heard so many good things about you from Jack.”
Did she? Funny, it didn’t look that way from the article she wrote up. “Great to meet you too! It’s amazing to see so much excitement about Perfect Match.”
“It sounds like an exciting project.” She sits in one of the chairs and I sit opposite. Her glance around the room takes in the stack of boxes by the wall we haven’t gotten around to unpacking yet.
“We just moved in,” I say. Against our will, I manage not to add.
“So Mr. Callahan has brought you in house. That must be an exciting development, too.”
Ha. “Yes, very much so,” I say smoothly.
“Have you found that Maverick’s involvement is already helping your company move to the next level?” Nelle asks, wide-eyed and eager.
“Jack has definitely offered a lot of”—How was it he put it?—“guidance since he invested. We’re very happy with the partnership.”
The dictatorship it seems to be turning into, not so much.
Thankfully Nelle’s questions turn to the ins and outs of the app next. I can talk about that forever—and it means I don’t have to pretend not to be pissed off at Jack. I’m actually starting to enjoy the interview a little when she throws me a curve ball.
“So, after all this time you’ve spent perfecting your compatibility algorithms, I have to ask: Are you dating anyone?”
My mouth opens and snaps shut. I should
have known this would come up. Am I? I thought I was, but after what’s happened in the last couple days … It doesn’t matter anyway. The last thing I need is the entire tech world buzzing about how I’m sleeping with my investor instead of about how awesome Perfect Match is.
“No,” I say. “Not at the moment.”
“Interesting.” Nelle smiles. “Is there any reason you haven’t used the algorithm to find your own ‘perfect match’? I know that’s the first thing I’d do!”
I give a shrug. “Oh, well, you know, I haven’t had much time for dating anyway, with all the energy I’ve been putting into getting the company off the ground. I wanted to make sure it was working as well as possible for everyone before I took advantage of it for myself.”
“Actually, that’s not totally true,” Riley pipes up from the sofa.
I start to shake my head at her, but Nelle has already turned. “What do you mean?”
Riley grins. “When we were doing the first round of beta testing, we ran a few initial profiles, and McKenna made one for that. She got a 100% match with a guy. She just never got around to contacting him.”
Oh no, let’s not get into that. “It was the first real run of the algorithm,” I say quickly. “We hadn’t worked out a lot of the bugs yet. It probably wasn’t that accurate.”
Nelle swivels back to me, her face bright. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve had to make any major changes since that point. Let’s see this guy.”
I want to protest, but Riley is already scooting in beside us with her laptop open. “Here’s the guy,” she says, bringing my old profile—and the matches—up on screen.
I remember him: sandy blonde hair, green eyes that crinkle with his smile. He’s definitely attractive. And his profile is nothing to sneeze at. Masters in Communication, working for a hospital network, loves good food, theater, and—if you can believe it—cheesy rom coms. No deal-breakers, no red flags. He’s perfect.
But he’s not Jack.
“Wow!” Nelle exclaims. “What a cutie. Okay, you have to get this rolling. It’d be the perfect addition to the article. ‘Perfect Match creator meets her match.’ If you don’t end up liking the guy, oh well. No harm in it, right? It’ll be great publicity.”
I hesitate. He’s not Jack. But maybe I could stand to spend some time with a guy who’s not Jack right now, just to remind myself what the rest of the world is like. It’s not as if it’ll be a real date. It’s just for the article.
If Jack were here, he’d probably tell me to do it for the buzz. Hell, he’d probably already be writing to the guy on my behalf—without even telling me.
“All right,” I say, reaching to swipe right. “Why the hell not?”
“So …” my match dude—aka Peter—says as the carriage horse clops along through Central Park. “Do you bring a cameraman along on all your dates?”
I laugh. “Sorry, I know it’s a little weird. But hey, after today, you’ll be a little bit famous!”
He agreed to having Nelle and her photographer tail us on our ride through the park when we exchanged messages yesterday, but I’m not sure he totally understood what he was getting into. At least Peter is taking it in stride and not running for the hills.
“I think it’s pretty amazing that you came up with the entire app that made this date happen,” he says. “I’ve dabbled in computer programming enough to know what an epic undertaking that must have been.”
“Oh, really?” I don’t think that came up in his profile. “When was that?”
“Back in college,” he replies, “Before I realized that I suck at math.” He chuckles. It’s a nice chuckle. But it doesn’t set me tingling like Jack’s does.
No. I’m not thinking about Jack right now. He called three times while I was getting ready for this date, but I couldn’t stand the thought of talking to him yet. Especially not over the phone, where I can’t see his face.
The carriage glides around a bend. With the light sprinkling of snow we got overnight, the park is wintery and beautiful. “I’ve never actually done this before. The carriage ride thing,” I say.
“Me neither,” Peter says. “I have to say I like it. It feels like going back in time a bit, doesn’t it? Very Austenian. Maybe we’ll run into your rival taking a turn in the park, and you can exchange witty banter with each other.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You’re a Jane Austen fan?” I ask, surprised.
“Isn’t every person worth knowing?” He winks at me. Also a nice wink. Also not as tingle-inducing as Jack’s. “She really is underrated as the classics go. So much more than just love stories, with all the social commentary woven in.”
“Yes! Thank you. I hate it when people talk as if she was just writing fluffy wish fulfillment.” Austen knew what went into making a happy couple, that’s for sure. She was never afraid to show her heroines taking a wrong turn or two on the way to finding their perfect match.
The camera is snapping again. I resist the urge to hide behind the blanket. Peter smiles at me and reaches to take my hand. I let my fingers curl between his. His palm is warm and dry.
Nice. But still no tingles.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with Peter. On paper and in person, he should be the perfect guy for me. So … maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s me.
Me and Jack.
I can’t deny it, no matter how hard I try. The atmosphere is gorgeous, the weather pristine. But my heart isn’t in it, because it’s too busy wishing it was Jack sitting beside me. Not just for the tingly feeling he’d give me. For the wry remarks and the sudden insights he’d pull out of nowhere. For the serious moments when I’d get a glimpse of the underdog he built himself up from. I like everything about him, so much.
My chest aches. No, that’s not quite right. I love him.
Shit. How the hell did that happen, without me even noticing?
That’s why I haven’t been able to relax and let go, isn’t it? I thought we had that connection he talked about, totally on the same wavelength. I thought he understood how important my company is to me. I have no idea what it means that he could sweep it away from me so easily, but it doesn’t seem like anything good. Maybe the guy I fell for isn’t who I thought he was after all?
And if that’s true … where do we go from here?
26
Jack
The plane pulls over to the terminal in JFK, but the seatbelt light stays on. “Please remain seated until we’ve come to a complete stop,” the pilot says over the intercom. I shift in my seat. How much longer is this going to take? I need to get going. It’s been three days since I’ve even heard McKenna’s voice, and the wait is driving me crazy.
I called her to tell her I was getting back early, but she hasn’t picked up. She can’t still be mad over the move … Can she? No, she’s the logical one. Now that she’s had a chance to think about it, she’ll understand I’m just doing what’s best for her company.
“I hope you had a pleasant flight, sir,” one of the stewardesses says, stopping by my seat. She looks at me through lowered eyelashes. “Is there anything else I can do for you before we disembark?”
I wave her away. “No, I’m perfectly fine.” I just want to get off this damned plane.
The blonde in the seat next to mine sighs dramatically. She mentioned about five times during the three-hour flight that she’s a professional model. “Flying is such a drag. I’m glad I at least had you for company. We should get drinks,” she adds, with a flirtatious glance. “At my hotel.”
Any other trip, any other day, and I would be taking her number—and the stewardess’s, too. But there’s only one woman consuming my thoughts, and she’s sitting at her laptop somewhere.
The seatbelt light goes off with a ding. I spring out of my seat and grab my bag from the overhead. Miss Model sidles over behind me. She tucks her hand into my suit jacket pocket before I can pull away.
“In case you ever want to get in touch,” she says with a coy smile.
Not lik
ely. The second I’m in the airport walkway, I tug the slip of paper out of my pocket and toss it in the trash. I hurry on to pick-up area, where my chauffeur is waiting.
Dropping into the backseat, I get out my phone. Maybe my assistant knows what’s going on.
“Hey, Jack,” Hallie says when she picks up. “How’s Florida treating you?”
“I’m back in New York, actually,” I say. “Negotiations wrapped up a day early. Hey, have you seen McKenna lately? I’ve been trying to get a hold of her …”
“Hmm.”
When Hallie makes that sound, I know something’s up. “What?”
“Well, I have gotten the impression she’s still kind of upset about the whole ‘spring a surprise office move on her’ situation. And I can’t even say I blame her. You really didn’t talk to her about it at all?”
I grimace. “You know how I work. I get in there and get moving. That’s why people want me investing in them—they know I get things done, and fast. When I’m putting a million dollars into a company, I’d better be able to make some calls on my own.”
“Sure,” Hallie says. “But you’re not just McKenna’s investor. You’re also her boyfriend, unless I’ve totally misread things. And boyfriends aren’t supposed to trample all over their girlfriend’s dreams as if they don’t even belong to her anymore.”
“Oh.” I … hadn’t thought about it quite that way before. “I suppose I let my investor side take over without realizing a little more balance might be necessary.”
“I’d say so.” Hallie sighs. “You really are hopeless, Jack. It’s a good thing you pay so well.”
I smile. “Just so you know, I am absolutely glaring at you from very far away right now.”
“I feel the burn. So do you want to fix your epic mistake?”
“I take it you have some suggestions?”
“Nelle Castle came by for McKenna’s interview yesterday and set up a photoshoot over in Central Park. If you head straight over there, you should be able to catch her.”