How many times can Jenn Walker save my ass? First, she takes the reins as marketing manager, then fixes the permit office hold-up, and finds a way to calm me down at the batting cages when I’m spinning out. And now? She’s unearthed a surprising—but maybe business-saving—new investor for the spa.
After she calls and babbles on about this reality TV show star, I wrangle Hakeem’s contacts into a meeting with Mac McClintock. Apparently, he has the cash, time, and a genuine passion for spa culture. All I need now is to knock his socks off with my pitch, and maybe I can keep this launch on-track. And my focus, too. Because somehow, despite staring down the barrel of total business failure, there’s only one thing I can think about.
Jenn.
And not just in a professional capacity—as a great-idea-haver—either. No, these thoughts are way out of bounds. And all because of that kiss.
That mother-freaking, star-shaking, unexpected kiss.
I sigh, finally stepping off the treadmill in a hard sweat. I figured five miles this morning before would wear me out enough to keep my hormones in check, but clearly, it’ll take a whole lot more to get Jenn out of my system.
The problem is that my body won’t forget. It’s one thing to imagine kissing a woman. My chemistry and conversation with Jenn have a kind of warm, sparkling heat, so I figured that was what kissing her would be like.
Boy, was I wrong.
The reality is something else entirely. Wild. Sensual. Illegally hot. Sure, Jenn gives off a whole girl-next-door vibe on first impression, with the way her nose wrinkles when she laughs, and a friendly smile that lights up the room. But the way her mouth hungrily explored mine, and those soft curves pressing closer against my body?
The one-two punch of adorable and sexy is enough to knock a man down.
… Especially today, when I finish meeting with the therapy team and head up to the office to find her chatting in the snack area, wearing a belted shirtdress that makes me think of nothing but slowly popping every single one of those buttons until she’s begging me for more.
“Good morning!” she greets me with a cheerful smile, and immediately, I try to get my mind out of the bedroom. I thought I was pretty clear the other night that I was open to something more going down between us.
And Jenn was equally clear, it’s not on the cards.
“Morning,” I blurt, making a beeline for the coffee even though it’s basically lunchtime.
“Any more thoughts on the Mac McClintock idea?” she asks. “I know reality TV isn’t your thing, but they get a ton of viewers, he’s a real name, and he’s looking to be more than just Lanie’s househusband. At least, that’s what the editing makes out,” she adds with a grin.
“No. I mean, yes,” I mumble, staring at her lips.
Her pink, kissable lips.
Get it together, Banks.
I clear my throat. “We’ve already reached out to his people, and he’s coming in this afternoon to hear the pitch.”
She lights up. “That’s great! See, I said you’d find another investor.”
“It’s not a done deal yet,” I warn her. “I still have to convince the guy to pour a whole lot of money into this venture.”
“No problem,” Jenn says immediately. “In case nobody’s mentioned it, you are blessed with a little charm.”
I smile, touched by her confidence. “Just a little?” I tease.
She grins back. “A teeny-tiny amount.”
“Then it’s a good thing they say size doesn’t matter.” I quip back.
Jenn laughs. “Now probably isn’t the moment to tell you, but that’s a lie.”
“What? No!” I pretend to clutch my chest, like I’ve been wounded. “Don’t tell a guy that.”
“Something tells me, you don’t have to worry,” she giggles, and just like that, the mood shifts from light teasing to something hotter.
Damn right, I don’t. And what I wouldn’t give to show her…
“Well, hi there.”
An amused voice interrupts us, and I turn to find my older sister, Monica, standing in the hallway. “Nice looking office you have here,” she comments, looking around. “Who’s your designer? She crushed it.”
“She did,” I agree. “She’s a nightmare, personality-wise, but great at her job.”
“Ha ha.” Monica says drily. She looks back and forth between me and Jenn, with a curious smile on her face.
“Jenn, this is Monica,” I introduce them, and soon they’re chatting about design stuff and a new exhibit at the Met.
“You want to join us?” Monica asks. “I made reservations for high tea at this chic little spot.”
I groan. “I’m eating cucumber sandwiches for lunch, Em?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, grinning. “There will also be scones.”
“Sounds incredible,” Jenn laughs. “But I’m afraid I’m swamped.”
“You can’t sneak away?” Monica asks. “I’d love to hear stories about Austin as a boss. Does he do the serious face when he—?”
“Jenn said she’s swamped,” I interrupt firmly. The last thing I need is to watch Jenn lick cream off a scone… especially in front of my sister. “We do have a launch coming up, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
“Rain check?” Jenn says. “I’d love to hear the dirt on Austin’s childhood sometime.” She shoots me a grin, and my sister cackles with laughter.
“I’ll bookmark a few pics from the braces years, for sure.”
“Does anyone care that I’m the boss here?” I ask.
They both laugh. Apparently not!
I know it’s coming. As we head to the restaurant and get settled at our table, Monica makes innocent casual small talk, but I know my sister.
Too well.
And sure enough, the moment our three-tier platter of food arrives, she fixes me with a look. “So, about your cute marketing manager…”
“Jenn. What about her?” I try to play dumb, demolishing the tiny sandwiches in just a few bites.”
“Did that already happen? Or is that about to happen?” Monica probes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.
My sister shakes her head, smiling. “You forget, you have zero poker face,” she informs me happily. “It’s clear to anyone that you have a giant, obvious crush on the woman.”
I scowl at my scone.
Monica gasps. “I knew it! This is great!”
“No, not great,” I correct her, sighing. “The opposite of great. I kind of made my move,” I admit. “And she… Well, she made it clear, it’s not going to happen. Professional boundaries and all.”
“Huh.” Monica sits back, arms crossed to examine me. “I like her.”
“Because she turned me down? Gee, thanks.” I scowl at my scone.
“No,” she laughs. “Well, kind of. I like that she decided what her line was and clearly communicated it to you. Based on that alone, she has better adulting skills than most of your exes.”
“Hey!” I protest, but she just gives me a look. “Well… Maybe,” I admit.
“Do you really think there’s no shot with Jenn?” she asks. “I want to see you happy. After everything that went down with Clara…” Monica sighs, which is the reaction everyone in my life has when mentioning my ex. “You deserve someone who isn’t a lying, cheating piece of doo-doo.”
I smile. Thanks to my nephew, Nico, Monica’s cursing has taken on a new, PG-13 flair.
“I will find someone,” I say, projecting more confidence than I feel. “At the moment, the spa is my number one focus. But once I have it figured out, I’ll be ready. She’s out there.”
An image of Jenn flashes in my mind, and I tell my brain to quit it. This is not the time.
“Anyway,” I say, desperate for a subject change. “Here’s a fun fact. After lunch, I’m pitching this guy from the Househusbands show. Jenn thought he’d be a good fit to invest in the spa.”
“Mac?” Monica brightens. “Oh my god, that’s perfect. I love that guy!”
“You watch The Real HouseHusbands of NYC?” I ask, surprised. Monica watches a lot of prestige dramas, all serious monologues and Oscar winners.
“Of course,” she beams. “I’m a woman of discerning taste.”
I chuckle. “OK, expect. Any tips on winning him over?”
“Hmmm,” she ponders. “What do you know about Pomeranian dogs? Brazilian butt lifts? Taylor Swift?”
“Uh, nothing?” I gulp, wondering if this guy and me even talk the same language.
She sees my expression. “I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Monica says brightly. “The spa experience speaks for itself. Just be your charming self, and Mac will love you.”
My hope that she’s right lasts about as long as it takes to usher Mac McClintock into my office, fumble the basic small talk, and realize that I have absolutely no idea how to charm him into anything.
Baseball talk? That usually breaks the ice in these meetings, but nope. The guy cheerfully announces he’s not into sports.
Facts and figures? Here’s where the serious investors perk up… But Mac glazes over as soon as I bring out my slick financial projections.
“So as you can see, the revenue growth we predict over the first three years is way ahead of the sector.” I try to stay positive, charging through my usual pitch script.
“Uh uh,” Mac murmurs, from his spot at the other end of the table. He’s a tall, slim guy in his late twenties with a shock of blonde hair, designer sneakers, and an expensive watch on one tanned wrist. Thanks to my quick burst of online research, I know he was an aspiring actor before he married his entrepreneur wife, Lanie, and promptly quit to support her dreams. Which, according to the show, translates to throwing wild dinner parties, bringing her smoothies in bed, travelling first class around the world, and helping to spend her millions.
It’s a sweet life he’s got there, but I’m hoping he’s itching for a little more.
“It’s a great opportunity to really plant a flag in the wellness space. This flagship location is just the start, it’s my goal to have multiple locations around the world, branded products and partnerships…” I trail off.
He’s checking his phone. Fuck, he’s not even listening anymore!
I need to find a foothold in the next few minutes, or he’ll be out the door.
Hell, I need a miracle.
Luckily, I hired one. Jenn strolls by, smiling brightly at me through the conference room glass. But her expression drops as she notices my deer-in-headlights look. In a beat, she’s opening the door—as if she could feel me begging her to come in.
“Mac McClintock,” she greets him warming. “So glad you could come in. I’m Jenn Walker, marketing.”
Mac glances up from his phone. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jenn’s the one who clued me into your spa expertise,” I tell him.
Mac perks up. “You’re a fan?”
“Absolutely!” Jenn beams. “So, have you seen the amazing facilities yet?”
“No.” Mac looks to me.
“I was saving the tour until after the pitch,” I explain.
“Well, about we skip ahead?” Jenn suggests. “After all, the spa design here is the big draw. You’ll absolutely flip,” she tells Mac, already ushering him to the hallway. “I swear, the steam room here is even better than that one you guys visited in Dubai on the show.”
“No way,” he exclaims. “That was incredible. Top ten most relaxing moments of my life.”
“Get prepared to bump one,” Jenn insists. “Oh, and don’t get me started on the special shiatsu massage. Hea-ven.”
I follow them downstairs, amazed to see Mac is fully engaged and paying attention as Jenn banters about our treatments, and what I can only guess are in-jokes from the show.
“No, you lose it,” she giggles with him.
“Loose it! Loose it!” Mac howls with laughter.
We reach the treatment complex. “As you can see, everything is focused on wellness through a science, tech lens,” Jenn says, easily parroting the marketing copy she’s been working on all week. “So many spas are tuned to the feminine, focused on anti-aging, weight-loss. What Austin’s doing here is curating the whole experience from a more performance-driven, athletic angle. Informed, of course, by his own background in sport.”
“A place for guys to buy into wellness, even if they’re hung up on not seeming too feminine,” Mac translates, nodding.
“Exactly.”
“You know, it’s crazy how much stigma there is bound up in these traditional gender roles,” Mac says, looking around. “Like it makes a guy any less of a man to enjoy a nice eucalyptus scrub and a pedicure. Because let me tell you, I’m secure enough in my masculinity to spend the whole day in that steam room, opening my pores!”
They laugh, and the tightness in my chest begins to ease.
Could he be coming around?
Mac keeps touring the treatment rooms and meditation suite, looking more thoughtful. “You know, now I see the whole thing, I get it, man,” he says to me. “You’re taking those insecurities, and cutting right through the bullshit, finding a way to deliver that same pampering experience, make spa treatments accessible to men, just dressed up in the high-tech image.”
“It’s not just dressing,” I add, “Everything we do here is backed by science and research. Back when I injured my shoulder, I really spiraled. It was my instinct to just push through, you know? Tough it out. But rehab and physical therapy gave me the direction I needed to take care of myself—my body, as well as my mind.”
“Hell yeah,” Mac whoops. “See, that’s what I’m always trying to say. People are like, ‘Oh, you and Lanie have the perfect relationship. How do you do it?’ Self-care, baby. I fill my cup so I’m in a good place to support her.”
We emerge back in the lobby, and I wrack my brain, trying to think of anything else I need to cover. The future of the spa is on the line… And resting in Mac’s well-moisturized hands.
Then a petite blonde woman struts into the space, blonde hair falling to her ass, wearing a hot-pink skintight dress and enormous heels.
“There you are, babe!” she beams, greeting Mac with a kiss—and a smack on his ass.
This must be Lanie—the shapewear queen.
“What do you think?” she asks, looking around. “Swanky space!”
“Yeah, it is,” Mac agrees. “And Austin here gets it. Like I always say, it’s all about mind-body connection. Balance and growth.”
“It was great showing you the space,” I speak up.
“Can I treat you both to dinner, talk some more?” We’ve got this back on track now, thanks to Jenn’s quick pivot. Now I need to lock them down. “We can have a longer conversation about your interests and goals with investing.”
“Wish we could, but VibeFest calls, we’re flying out tonight.” Lanie says. “Have you ever been?”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but Jenn jumps in. “I wish! Isn’t DJ Parka headlining this year?”
“Yes! It’s going to be sick.” Lanie tucks her arm through Mac’s elbow and looks at Jenn and me. “Oooh, I know, why don’t you two come along?”
“Yeah!” Mac jumps in, looking enthusiastic.
“Come to the festival with us, both of you. The weather will be gorg in Palm Springs, and we can get to know you for real.”
Lanie nods. “That’s the only way we commit to a business. We’re a ‘good vibes only’ family.”
“And what better place to get a vibe check than VibeFest?” Jenn agrees. I can tell from her voice she’s trying not to laugh.
“Yes,” Lanie says, seemingly agreeing with herself. “Loving this. Both of you tag along. We’ll hang, it’ll be chill away from the city, and we can make sure it’s a fit for all of us.”
Jenn looks at me like, ‘what are you waiting for?’. Both Mac and Lanie are smiling, and if this is what it takes? I’m all in.
“Let’s do it,” I agree. Even though I’m still not exactly sure what ‘it’ is.
“Loving this!” Lanie repeats.
“You’re so smart, babe,” Mac says, pecking her cheek on the way out. “See you all in paradise.”
The minute they’re out the door, Jenn gasps for air.
“Oh my God, that was amazing!” she laughs. “We’re a ‘good vibes only’ family. I’m going to say it all the time!”
I exhale in a whoosh. “Fuck, that was close. I nearly struck out—until you saved the day.”
She laughs. “You just needed to redirect, that’s all. I’m just proud that my Househusbands viewership has come to good use. I’ve never thought of it as a business asset. Does this mean I can deduct my season pass on my taxes?”
I laugh. “If the McClintocks invest, I’ll buy you every season of that show, on Blu-Ray.”
Jenn beams. “You have no idea what VibeFest is, do you?”
“Was it that obvious?”
She laughs. “Just to me. It’s a music festival in the desert like… Coachella meets Burning Man meets a lot of tequila.”
“Sounds… Loud.”
“It’s supposed to be fun.” She pauses. “But I should probably stay here, with the team—”
“No way,” I interrupt her. “I need you!”
Jenn’s cheeks pink.
“I mean, as my official househusband translator,” I add quickly. “You speak fluent Mac and Lanie, and I need to learn fast. For the deal.”
“OK,” she says slowly. “I’ll come with you. For the deal.”
“Good.”
For a moment, we just look at each other, then she backs away. “I better go pack!”
“Yeah, me too.” I agree, quickly hurrying away. And then I realize exactly what I’ve just agreed to: going on vacation to a place known for its heat.
Sure. Great. That will definitely make this spark between us cool off.