Page 79 of Hidden & Held

Putting myself in an insecure person’s shoes, I can understand that logic.

“Fine, let’s table the reports. You say that the reports were things you would have told your mother; why didn’t you?” I force out with as much venom as I can to disguise my hurt.

“I love my mother, but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.” He shakes his head good-naturedly. “As you can imagine, dating someone during a deep-dive into due diligence is … frowned upon. She would have absolutely told my grandfather, even if by accident. And honestly …” He shrugs. “I probably should have done it. She wouldn’t be so mad at me now, and I would have gotten out of this damn assignment.”

“Wait, why is she mad at you?”

“Because I told her about you, about what I did. And since then, she only spends time talking to me if she can get any info out of me about you. Ah, that reminds me.” He walks into the entryway, pulling open the top drawer of his black console table, returning with a small package in his hands. “She sent you these.” He hands me a pair of incredibly soft oversized socks with a delicate lace pattern and rubber grips on the bottom. “She quoted a few reflexology and Eastern medicine things at me that I didn’t quite catch, but the gist was she wants you to keep your feet warm for better health and wellness.”

Brushing my hand tentatively over the soft texture, I swallow back the emotion this simple and kind act from his mom elicits in me.

Clearing my throat softly, I remember my manners. “Thank you. Tell her she shouldn’t have, but they will be used and loved.”

The smile this brings to Jackson’s face makes my breath hitch—then I remember it wasn’t me his mom knew all about; it was Cassandra. I gently set the socks aside.

“None of this answers the simple question. Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t trust me to keep this from this whole acquisition mess?”

“I do trust you completely. I knew that you would keep the situation under wraps, hell, even help it. I kept thinking I’d tell you after one more week.

“And every week you chose the assignment.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

He looks at me, pain across his face, but doesn’t back down as he nods and continues on, “Then it became after I had the smoking gun against Cassandra … which didn’t happen in time for this mess to blow up.” He laughs once without humor. “Every time I waited, made an excuse; it became harder. Not because of what you would do, but of your realization that you deserved better than how we started. How I started us.”

“Let’s say the view of the events is accepted, that you didn’t tell your mom for fear of repercussions. Not to mention we were barely dating.”

“Don’t say that.” He walks around the peninsula. “Throw stones at me, make as many Photoshop pictures as you want, but don’t lessen what we had.”

“Which was?”

“The first place that felt like home in a long time.”

22

JACKSON

Phoenix stands, one leg bent behind her, grabbing her plate on the way to the sink.

“Sugar, stop that. Let me do the dishes,” I say as I reach for her.

Stopping, she leans back, pulling her body away from my touch and almost losing her balance. Looking down at herself, she lets out a sigh and hands the plate to me.

“Fine, I have a few more questions before you can step down. I mean, do the dishes.”

I hold back a smile at the accidental slip. I know professionalism is her shield; I’ve always let her keep it. Placing the dish in the sink, I turn and lean against the counter, arms braced behind me.

“Of course, I will answer any questions you have; I’ll even do it under oath,” I can’t help but add in.

Her look of disapproval seems forced for a moment before her face becomes somber. I grip the counter harder, knuckles white, forcing myself not to go to her.

“At the awards dinner, for the Rising Star. When you saw me through the window, you kept smiling. Didn’t acknowledge me at all. Why?”

I’m quiet for a moment, collecting my jumbled thoughts of that night, wanting to answer her as fully as possible.

“There were a few things going on in my mind. For starters, I figured the award was canceled. Everyone at the office knew you were the best, that you should be receiving it. Your billables were through the roof; clients raved about you, it was a no-brainer.”

Phoenix knows it’s true, that she is a badass. But the praise still brings a soft pink to her cheeks.

“I figured the dinner was on, but nobody would get the award that night. When they announced it, I was in disbelief. How could they do this? I moved on autopilot, putting on my plastered smile, accepting it. I was moving along with the crowd, my brain not catching up fast enough.”