Chapter 14

ARIA

I’ve never been so conflicted about someone before. I’ve also never met someone like Jett before.

He’s demanding, antagonizing, and possessive. Yet through his hard exterior, I see glimmers of his softness in the way he carried me to his guest bed, the way he spoke to my grandma, and how he worries about my safety and comfort.

So, which one is the real Jett? And why does he have such hot and cold extremes?

And the biggest question of all: why do I care?

What Jett thinks of me shouldn’t matter. I’m here to collect a paycheck, to help Louise, to secure our future.

If all goes according to plan, I’ll never see Jett again, and something about that reality makes me uneasy. Even with his rough edges, I find myself wanting to please him and be under his protection.

The day after he crashed my cribbage night with Louise, I’m sitting in his office, waiting for him to confirm his mother’s flight’s arrival time. As he types and clicks, I check through my email and make notes on Jett’s schedule.

“How long has Louise lived there?” His voice cuts through the silence.

I look up. “Hmm?”

Jett’s eyes are still on his computer, but I can feel his curiosity burning. “How long has she lived in that house?” he asks again.

I furrow my brow as I decipher what he’s talking about. “A long time,” I finally say. “Since the seventies, I believe.”

His eyes settle on me. “Seems like a lot of house for her.”

I sigh. “It is. I’ve been trying to get her to sell it and move, but she doesn’t want to,” I say, looking back down at the planner, hoping he’ll leave this subject alone.

“Why?”

“Why what? Why does she want to stay, or why am I trying to get her to move?” I ask without looking up.

He leans back in his chair. “Both.”

“She’s lived there since she married her second husband, so I think it holds a lot of comfort and sentiment. But it needs a lot of updates, and I’ve been helping to pay her bills, so…”

I look up and realize I’m sharing more than I want to with my boss, who has more money than God. He continues to stare at me, his eyebrows raise slightly.

“So, you can’t afford renovations,” he finishes the sentence for me.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

He nods his understanding.

“What’s your mother like?” I ask, trying to shift the subject.

He shrugs. “She’s…a bit demanding, smart, intuitive,” he says, looking back at his laptop.

“Sounds familiar,” I say and feel Jett’s eyes flick to me.

“It says the flight lands at twelve thirty-eight p.m.,” he says.

“Great. I made the reservation at the restaurant for one p.m., but I’ll call and bump it to one thirty.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the restaurant after my conference call with Jan Albrecht,” he says.

A small smile slides onto my face. I can’t help but be proud of myself for getting on the German Chancellor’s schedule.

“Coffee?” Jett asks me.

I leap to my feet. “Yes, I’ll go get that for you.”

“No,” Jett says, and I stop. “I was asking ~you~ if you wanted a coffee.”

I look at him, confused, as he gets up from his chair.

“Oh. Sure, I can go make some for both of us,” I say. “Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Aria.” Hearing his authoritative voice say my name makes me pause. He approaches me; his gold eyes bore into mine. “I’m going to get us some coffee. You can come, if you’d like.”

“But…that’s what I do,” I say softly.

“I’m perfectly capable. Also, you do…a lot. Take a break. Or better yet, teach me how to use that espresso machine,” he says.

My heart does a small somersault. This is either some devious plot of a bored billionaire or, dare I say, growth?

We walk to the breakroom, and for the next several minutes, I attempt to teach Jett Abrams, founder and CEO of one of the biggest Fortune 500 companies, how to make a latte. I have to say, I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time.

As we’re finally sipping the ugliest lattes I’ve ever seen, I can’t help but feel proud—proud and a little worried.

Why is he suddenly trying to do one of the things he shouldn’t have to do? Is he planning for me to not be here?

Just then, the head of Business Development—a stern-looking blonde named Brittany—pokes her head in and asks to have a word with Jett. Jett gives me a small smile, then briskly leaves with Brittany.

The rest of the morning is more of the same. I attend meetings and answer emails until it’s time to pick Eleanor Abrams up from the airport.

Eleanor moved to Croatia about five years ago. Generally, she prefers to spend her time in Europe, and Jett funds her travels and her multiple homes. She dabbles in philanthropy and champions several causes, usually having to do with animals.

David and I leave for the airport extra early; I’d rather be waiting around for her than vice versa. In the airport terminal, I look around for Eleanor—a woman whose face I have memorized from multiple photos so I don’t have to hold a sign up with her name on it.

I see her walk down the hall toward baggage claim where I am, and I immediately approach her.

She has dark hair like Jett, which is pulled back into a long braid over one shoulder. She has a large bag hanging off that shoulder, and she’s wearing a simple white blouse tucked into blue linen pants.

I can see her similarities to Jett in her high cheekbones and pronounced nose. She offers me a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach her hazel eyes.

“Hello, Ms. Abrams, I’m Aria,” I say. I hold my hand out for her to shake, and she looks at it timidly, then takes it.

“Hello, Aria,” she says. “Have you retrieved my bag?”

“Not yet,” I say. “They should be coming out soon.”

We stand in a slightly awkward silence as we scan the baggage carousel and finally spot Eleanor’s bag.

The car ride to the restaurant is mainly silent. I had planned to make small talk, but Eleanor is looking down at her phone the entire time. At one point, she holds it up to her ear and begins to speak.

“Hi, darling. Yes, I’ve just landed and am going to meet my son for lunch now… Yes, I will… Okay, I love you too.” She hangs up.

My insides twist a little. I can’t help but feel like I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, even though I’m sitting three feet away from her. I wonder if Jett knows she’s seeing someone.

We pull up to Satoko, the sushi restaurant where we’ll be eating lunch. As I exit the car after her, Eleanor turns to me, a surprised look on her face.

“Oh, you are joining us, then?”

I pause. “Oh, um, yes. Jett won’t be here for another ten to fifteen minutes,” I say, as if that’s the only reason I should be permitted to eat in the middle of the day.

She furrows her brow but nods.

After we’re seated, she folds her hands under her chin and looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. “So, you are Jett’s…”

“Personal assistant,” I say, resisting the urge to add, ~For now~.

“I see. And how long have you been in your position?” she asks.

“Almost a month.”

“So, very new still,” she says almost to herself.

I nod. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Another awkward silence settles over us as a server takes our drink order (iced tea with lemon for me and hot tea for her).

“So, I heard you’re living in Croatia now? That sounds exciting,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

She nods. “Yes, I have a lovely little villa in Split,” she says with a hint of a smile.

“That sounds great,” I say, not knowing a single thing about Split, Croatia.

After the server comes by to tell us the specials, Jett comes striding in.

“Hi, Mom, sorry I’m late,” he says as he dips down and kisses her on the cheek.

“Hi, dear,” she says with slightly more enthusiasm than she has bestowed upon me.

“How was your flight?”

“Fine,” she says.

The server returns to take our orders and bring Jett water.

After she leaves, Eleanor looks at Jett, and I see her smile warm.

“How are you?” she asks him. “How’s work?”

“Good. Busy, but good,” he says.

“I’m glad. And how is Lena?”

Jett flinches. I can tell he wants to look at me but doesn’t.

“Uh, Lena?”

“Yes, you said you were wrapping some things up with her in London.”

“Oh. Yes. All taken care of,” he says, and I can tell he doesn’t want to say more, but Eleanor presses on.

“And how is she doing?”

“Good. She’s mainly in Los Angeles now,” he says, taking a sip of water. “Sounds like her make-up line is doing well, and she’s adding more products all the time.”

“Ah well, give her my best next time you see her,” she says.

“Sure. Though, I don’t expect to see her anytime soon.”

“That’s too bad. I thought you two made a lovely couple,” Eleanor says. “And you aren’t seeing anyone else?”

“No,” Jett says firmly. I smile internally. Even the rich and powerful still have to answer to their parents.

“Well…” Eleanor pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. “Moving on can be challenging but also cathartic.”

“I’m not hung up on Lena. It was an amicable split,” he says almost defensively. “I’m just busy with work, and I’m training Aria.”

Eleanor and Jett both look at me, and I smile, though I suddenly wish I was not here.

“Right,” Eleanor says. “She said she’s a new hire.”

“Yes, though she’s a fast learner and smart,” he says as he smiles at me. I swell with pride.

“Ah,” Eleanor says, regarding me for another moment. Then she moves on to talking about Croatia, her sister, and a number of other things for the rest of lunch.

I literally don’t say another word except to thank Jett for lunch and tell him I’ll meet him back at the office after I drop Eleanor off at his apartment.

In the car, I don’t feel the need to entertain Eleanor, as she seems uninterested in talking to me. So, I check my emails on my phone. The ride to Jett’s apartment is silent.

After dropping Eleanor off, I head back to the office. There are only a few hours left in the workday, but I want to answer some more emails and check in with Tim.

When I enter my office, I find an envelope on my desk. It says “~Aria—a hiring bonus~” in Jett’s handwriting. My brow is furrowed as I open the envelope and see a check written out to me in the amount of $100,000.

~What the fuck?~

My mind is reeling as I attempt to make sense of the little slip of paper in my hand that has the power to change my life. Before I know what’s happening, my feet are carrying me to Jett’s office.

I enter without knocking and swiftly walk up to Jett, who is on his phone, looking out the window.

He looks at me.

“What the fuck is this?” I ask, holding up the check.

“Didn’t you read the envelope? A hiring bonus,” he says, still holding the phone to his ear. He doesn’t look surprised or amused; he just acts as if he’s telling someone how to find the elevator.

“Jett, one hundred thousand dollars isn’t a hiring bonus,” I say. “That’s not a bonus you give someone who has worked for you for less than a month.”

He sighs and hangs up the phone. “Well, it is now. And you can get some repairs done on Louise’s house,” he says nonchalantly.

My anger is suddenly red hot. I get closer to him, a few feet away.

He squares off with me.

“I am ~not~ a charity case. You think you can just buy me? Well, guess again. Your money means ~nothing~ to me,” I hiss.

I expect him to smirk, to start his power struggle and his mind games with me, but he doesn’t. In fact, he looks surprised.

“On the contrary,” he says, “my money means nothing to me. I could spend this on dinner and not think twice about it, but it could actually make a difference for you. I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” I snap.

I tear the check in half and then in quarters before throwing it in the trash. Then I turn back to him and say, “DYAD is sending a replacement.”

His expression hardens. “What?”

I nod stiffly. “It’s time to admit this doesn’t work, Jett.”

“Aria…”

“Please consider this my notice.”

I turn and storm out of Jett’s office.