As I watched Jenner register the news, my stomach caught on fire. I reached into the pockets of my jacket, putting pressure on my navel just so I wouldn’t throw up.
I didn’t know what I had been thinking. I should have found a way to tell him sooner.
And I’d wanted to. Every time we were together, the guilt had nagged at me.
But it was easier to just keep going, to keep him in the dark, especially since we weren’t in a relationship, and I didn’t know if we would ever be in one. And then my trip to LA happened and things between us started to change. The trip brought us closer together, and the guilt thickened.
I didn’t want to ambush Jenner.
Not like this.
I was going to tell him when I flew to Utah tomorrow, breaking everything down, sharing that my father had finally offered me a position. But Dad had called this morning, saying he needed me to meet him in Utah, and I knew he was going there with Jenner. Once I hung up with him, I tried to find my breath and the courage to call Jenner and do the right thing, warning him so this wouldn’t happen.
When I finally made that call, he didn’t answer.
He had already been flying with my father.
And, now, as we stood here, Jenner’s eyes were boring through me.
His posture stiff, his expression agitated.
His hands clenching, like he was dreaming about the moment he was going to spank me.
Oh God.
“Joanna, I want you to meet Jenner Dalton,” my father said, continuing the introductions. “Jenner’s the best attorney in the country—and I know that for a fact. I’ve gone through plenty of them over the years.”
Jenner’s hand extended through the air, and mine did as well, meeting him in the middle.
He didn’t gentle his grip; he didn’t lower the intensity of his gaze. “It’s nice to meet you, Joanna.”
He emphasized my name, like it was a slap across the face.
I deserved that.
I deserved even more.
“Likewise,” I responded. “But please, call me Jo. My parents are the only ones who call me Joanna.”
“And pumpkin,” my father added.
Trying to make light of the situation, I laughed. “That might be pushing it a little too far, Dad.”
“Jo, then …” Jenner said, releasing me but his stare didn’t.
It stayed on me.
It owned me.
It … punished me.
My father held my shoulders even tighter, shifting me so he could look at my face. “Jenner, this is my pride and joy right here. She just graduated from the University of Miami a few weeks ago with honors, a dual degree in marketing and business.”
“Congratulations,” Jenner said. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”
He was flat as he spoke, a robot moving through the necessary motions.
Meanwhile, my body hummed with anxiety.
“She’s worked her tail off to earn a position at my company,” my father said. “Her first assignment—or first test, I should say—is to assess the potential of our newest property. With all the money millennials are inheriting, kids her age are traveling as much as you and your friends, Jenner; therefore, Joanna’s opinion, in this current market, is as valuable as yours.”
Even though my father was bragging about me, he was drawing a line between our ages.
I felt like a child, sitting at the kids’ table.
As I focused on Jenner, I was sure he was thinking the same thing.
In fact, I was sure he was thinking many things.
Each layer showed in his expression.
And each one made me want to die.
“Joanna, you’ve been to enough of my properties to know what best represents my brand,” my father said. “Why don’t you tell us what you think of this lot?”
I’d spent the entire plane ride studying the three properties my father had chosen along with all the other high-end hotels in the area. I knew the facts. I knew what was right in front of me.
This was the moment where I left the kids’ table and proved my worth.
I looked away from Jenner, his stare not helping my nerves, and I moved out from under my father’s arm, glancing through the dense trees in every direction.
“I’m basing my opinion on the photographs that you sent over since I haven’t seen the other two properties in person, but from the pictures, I have to say, this piece of land is certainly the best.” I walked a little farther toward the road, hearing the men follow behind me.
“For one, the elevation is outstanding. According to the city’s property records, no other hotel in the area is as high as this. People of all ages—millennials, baby boomers—we like height; we like views. We like to feel as though we’re on top of the world.”
I scanned the vast peaks that surrounded us, the way the valleys dipped, the mountain range that extended as far as the eye could see. “Now, if we’re talking structure, your competition leans toward boring, traditional, block-style facades that blend with the landscape of the town. Of course, they’re not built into the side of a mountain, so their base is already bland. Not us. There’s an expected level of luxury and uniqueness with the Spade brand, and having viewed the preliminary specs, I see that in the exterior of the building, and I know I’ll feel that in the interior.”
I took several more steps, standing at the edge now. “All the places to currently stay, the large and boutique-style hotels, are down there, Dad—I’m sorry, Walter.” I pointed over the cliff. “But you’re up here, seven thousand feet above sea level. As for the other two properties you’re interested in, they don’t have that advantage. They’re beautiful in their own way, but they’re average.”
I took a final scan of the area. “Not a single thing about this strip of land is average. It screams wealth and exclusivity. It has the most breathtaking views, and it doesn’t just bring vacationers to the mountains; it puts them directly on one. And that, in my opinion, is why this is the one.”
The men stayed quiet, as though they were processing what I had just voiced.
Eventually, my father looked at Jenner and said, “She’s going to be good, isn’t she?”
“She already is,” Jenner replied.
“If you want to fly with me to LA, the jet can then take you back to Miami,” my father said to me as the SUV parked outside the private airport terminal.
My dad was looking at me from the front seat while I sat in the back, next to Jenner, whose eyes had avoided me the entire drive over here.
“No, thank you, Dad. I booked a commercial flight home.”
The flight just wasn’t scheduled to take off today … or tomorrow.
A detail my father definitely didn’t need to know about.
“What about you?” my father said to Jenner. “Are you still planning on looking at houses tomorrow?”
Jenner nodded. “I meet with the realtor in the morning.”
“Then, I’ll see the both of you in LA.” He glanced at me. “The move is still on schedule, about a week away?”
“Yes.” My heart clenched as I realized Jenner was now learning about my relocation. This wasn’t the way I’d wanted him to find out, but since I couldn’t stop my father from talking about it, I leaned forward and kissed him good-bye. “Monica and I have all the details worked out. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to report to the office on the date we agreed on.”
“Excellent,” he replied. “Text me when you get home. I love you.” He glanced at Jenner, shaking his hand. “Good luck on the house search.” And then he got out and walked into the terminal.
The driver slipped back into the car once he closed Dad’s door and said to us, “Where can I bring you?”
Silence simmered between us, and I slowly gazed at Jenner. “We need to talk.”
Air huffed from his mouth. “You think?” He glanced away from me and gave the driver the name of his hotel.
As soon as the SUV started moving, I couldn’t handle just the sound of the road. I needed Jenner to understand. I needed to at least explain myself.
I turned my body toward him, reaching for his hand. “Jenner …”
He glared at me. “Not now.”
He wanted to wait until we were alone to have this conversation.
I could respect that.
But that didn’t mean it was easy, staying quiet the rest of the ride until we pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. He waited for the driver to unload his suitcase, and once Jenner was gripping the handle, he walked into the lobby. My stomach ached as I stood behind him at the front desk, especially when he requested only one room key.
He said nothing as he walked by me on the way to the elevator, but I followed him inside, waiting for his eyes to land on me.
But they didn’t.
He wouldn’t even glance in my direction.
The door slid open at the fifth floor, and we walked down the hallway to his suite. The moment he stepped in, he left his suitcase right by the door and went over to the minibar.
He had a few gulps of whiskey down his throat when he finally faced me. His back was pressed against the counter. He looked so incredibly handsome in his black suit, but it was his eyes that haunted me.
That made the tears instantly want to flow.
His chest rose and fell several times, moving so fast when he said, “Did you know?”
I dropped my Gucci bag into the nearest chair, holding the hard, sturdy wooden back. “Not at first.”
His teeth ground together. “When did it dawn on you?”
My eyes burned from trying to hold back the tears, my throat on fire as I swallowed. “Lawyer, LA, Jenner—I put it together.”
“So, you fucking knew …”
“Jenner—”
“You lied to me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I just didn’t tell you, but I wanted to—”
“What the fuck is the difference?”
My heart was beating so fast that I was having a hard time talking, but I needed to get the words out, and I needed to get my shit together. Now more than ever.
I took a deep breath and said, “Please listen to me. Let me explain myself.”
I didn’t know how much longer my knees were going to support me, so I walked over to the large bed and sat on the edge, gripping the blanket between both hands.
“My father has spoken about you before, brief mentions where he would discuss projects you two were completing together, but that’s it, nothing more. You have a memorable name, and while we were chatting in the sportsbook, I assumed it was you. But to be honest, I was already so invested at that point that I certainly wasn’t going to ruin the moment and tell you who I was and derail the chemistry exploding between us. And then we were suddenly hanging out nonstop in Vegas, and the opportunity sort of got lost. I didn’t expect to hear from you once I got back to Miami.” I took several deep breaths, remembering the pain I’d felt when I left his room, when I’d cried in Monica’s arms. “But you came to visit, and things started to progress and—”
“And you should have fucking told me.” He took a drink. “During any of those moments—either of my trips to Miami, when you came to LA, when I took you to my fucking parents’ house—you should have said who you are.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you realize your father is my largest client? Do you know what he would do to me if he knew I was fucking his daughter?”
Fucking his daughter.
A description that was so cold.
So emotionless.
“I should have told you,” I admitted, squeezing the comforter so hard that I swore the down was giving me rug burn. “I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t found out this way. I wish you hadn’t been in the air this morning when I tried to call you and tell you, but I can’t change how this all went down.” I fought my eyes, refusing to let them drip, negotiating with my chest to let up a little.
“But if I’m really being honest, I don’t know that I would have told you in Vegas even if I could do this all over because then you never would have slept with me, and then I never would have known what this feels like.” My voice softened. “What you feel like. What it’s like to be in l—”
“Don’t say it.”
It felt like he’d cut off all my air.
My lungs wheezing for more.
“Don’t even think it, Jo, because those days are gone.” He downed the rest of his glass and reached into the fridge for another bottle. He poured it into his tumbler and held it against his chest, not too far from his lips. “You’re Walter’s daughter. You’re so fucking off-limits—on a level I don’t think you can even understand. What happened between us, whatever was starting, it’s over.”
“What?” My stomach was stabbing, to the point where I knew I was going to be sick. “Because I didn’t tell you?”
“Because your last name is Spade.” He laughed, although I could tell he didn’t think this was funny. “Why the hell do you have Jo Cartwright on your Instagram account? Did you change it just for me, so I wouldn’t figure it out?”
He really thought I was a liar.
That I would go to any lengths to manipulate him.
“Cartwright is my middle name, which is my mother’s maiden name, and what I prefer to go by. Spade comes with attention, with assumptions, and I don’t want to be the next Paris Hilton, Jenner. I wanted to go to college across the country and fit in just like everyone else.”
It took him several seconds to respond, and when he did, he said, “Your humbleness changes nothing. You still didn’t tell me who you were, who your father was. And now that you work for Spade Hotels, you’re my client too.”
“I’m just in entry-level marketing. I’m not your client, and we won’t be working together.”
“Aren’t you here in Utah?”
I released the bed to push against my chest, hoping the pressure would stop my heart from breaking. “Yes.”
“Are you going to be assisting your father with the build-out?”
I nodded.
“Then, we’re working together.”
I let the news pulse through me, my body reacting in so many different ways that I didn’t know whether to cover my face or look for a trash can. But before I did anything, I needed to get this out. “I was going to tell you tomorrow, when I flew in. I had the whole thing planned out in my head—how I was going to explain Vegas, how I was going to surprise you with my move to LA.” My head dropped, and I stared at the carpet. “I knew you were going to be angry. I knew it was going to cause a fight.” I finally glanced up. “But I didn’t expect this.”
He sat in one of the chairs and crossed his legs. He was closer than before, but he still felt a mile away. “I don’t think you understand the relationship I have with your father. I’ve worked with him since the start of my career. He was one of my very first clients. We don’t have a personal relationship, meaning we don’t travel together, I don’t meet the women he dates, nor did I know much about you other than the few times he’s referred to his daughter—his pride and joy, Joanna—but I respect him.” His legs uncrossed, his hands and the whiskey resting between them as he exhaled. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the trust he has in me.”
I sucked in a mouthful of air. “Do you think that would happen if he found out about us? That he would … fire you?”
He chuckled. “You’re kidding, right?” He was looking at me like I was an alien. “Jo, do you not understand how this works? You don’t fuck your client’s daughter, especially when she’s only twenty-two years old and still in college. I make decisions regarding your father’s business, his investments, his wealth. I have access to his confidential records, things only he and I know. If he found out what I did—what we did—the trust would be gone.”
“I’ll make this right—”
“You can’t. It’s not even an option. You’re just going to report to his LA office as planned and never tell him what happened between us, and we’re just going to move on as though nothing ever did.”
My hand returned to the bed. “That’s it?” My stomach flipped, threatening to empty. “That’s the end of us? You’re just going to cut things off like I never mattered?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is this.” Tears were at the rims of my eyes, and my lips wouldn’t stop shaking. “I care about you, Jenner. So much so that I rented an apartment fifteen minutes from your house just so I could be close. I begged my father for a job when he wanted me to have a few years of experience under my belt. I had dreams of us being together—”
“And those died the moment I found out who you really are.” He stared at me like he didn’t recognize me. “I realize we never made a commitment to each other, but since your trip to LA, things have been different between us. I’ve been entertaining the ways we could make this work.” His voice lowered, turning even grittier when he said, “And now, that’s impossible.”
I didn’t stop the tears.
I let them drip.
I could only be strong up until a point, and his words had sent me far over that edge.
Still wearing my jacket, I held the sleeves to the bottom of my eyes, catching the makeup that wanted to run. “Jenner …” I wiped my mouth, my spit turning so thick. “I’m not the girl who follows a guy up to his hotel room minutes after meeting him. I’ve slept with three people my entire life, including you, and the other two were long-term relationships. But the way you’ve made me feel since Vegas”—I stopped to inhale, to search for a way to describe this feeling—“is nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m completely lost when it comes to you—lost in feelings, lost in sensations, lost in hopes, in wants and desires. I didn’t do this to hurt you or to hurt us. All I’ve wanted is for us to be together, and I thought moving to LA, like I am, would make that come true.”
My heart throbbed as he stared at me, saying nothing.
My confession wasn’t enough.
I needed to do more.
“I did this all wrong,” I continued. “I should have tried harder to confess the truth to you. I should have fought through it no matter how difficult it was. But, God, this can’t be the end of us …”
His silence ate at me.
I couldn’t handle another second of it.
“There has to be a way we can salvage—”
He nodded toward the door. “I think you should go.”
What?
He wanted me to … go?
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Or the coldness I was seeing on his face.
How he had no desire to fix this, to work it out with my father, to find a way for us to be together.
I didn’t believe this was what he truly wanted.
“Jenner …”
He stood and moved back to the bar, refilling his glass. When he turned around, his expression was even harder than before. It was etched in ice. “This is irreparable, Jo. It doesn’t matter what you say … it’ll never work.”
A stillness moved through me that was worse than the silence.
This was pain.
An ache.
Like the darkness of a sky seconds before a storm.
I didn’t want to humiliate myself, begging if he saw no hope.
Clearly, I was the only person in this room who wanted a relationship, a future together.
My truth meant nothing.
I meant nothing to him.
I stood and grabbed my bag and moved over to the door, holding the knob. I felt his eyes on my back, and I turned around, facing him. Bile was rising from my stomach and going up my throat, the realization hitting me again as his stare turned even frostier.
“Good-bye, Jenner.”
I let the door shut behind me as I hurried into the elevator and reached into my purse. I’d left Miami without any luggage, knowing I wouldn’t be able to hide it from my father since I’d told him I was flying right home, so I weeded through the few things I’d thrown in here—my toothbrush, extra panties, my makeup—and found my phone.
I needed to get the hell out of Utah, to change my flight, to order a car that would take me to the airport.
But I could barely think, and I didn’t even know where to start.
I opened the app to get a car, scheduling one to pick me up outside. While I waited for it to arrive, I called Monica, and she answered after the second ring.
“Why on earth are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be in bed—”
“Mon …” My chin quivered, more tears spilling over my lids at the sound of my best friend’s voice. “We’re done. Over.” I found my sunglasses in my bag and threw them on over my face, trying to hide from the arriving guests. “He wants nothing to do with me.”
“What?”
I took a deep breath, staring at the mountains around me. “I have something I need to tell you …”
Not even Monica knew the truth.
The only person who did was Gloria. I’d confessed everything to her when I returned to her shop the day Dad had offered me the job. I needed advice, guidance, and she had given it to me.
But before I told my best girl, I’d needed to tell Jenner first.
And now that he knew, it was time to relive it all over again.
“Jenner is my father’s attorney,” I said into the phone. “I figured that out shortly after I met him in Vegas … before we slept together … and I didn’t tell him.”
“Wait a second. I need to process.” She paused. “So, you knew him this whole time?” She gasped. “And he just pieced it all together, didn’t he? Because he’s in Utah with your father and you showed up and—oh my God.”
I wiped the tears off my chin. “Yep.”
“Did it go as badly as I think it did?”
“Worse.”
“Babe …”
I swallowed the acid down my throat. “Don’t hate me, Mon. I know I should have told you. I know I should have told him. I fucked up. It’s all my fault.”
She said nothing for several seconds and then, “Are you on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“You need to get to me as fast as you can.”
I saw the car pull up, and I waved to the driver. “So you can kick my ass?”
“No, Jo. So I can hug you.”