Page 35 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Jessica ended the call with Miranda Durrant, her heart racing despite the outward calm she maintained.

The headhunter’s voice had been almost breathless with excitement as she laid out Meridian Capital’s final offer: Director of Sustainable Investments, London office, with a compensation package that made Jessica’s current salary look like pocket change.

Corner office overlooking the Thames, a relocation allowance that would cover a luxury flat in Kensington, and a team of fifteen analysts reporting directly to her.

“They’re desperate to have you, Jessica,” Miranda had emphasized. “I’ve never seen them pursue a candidate this aggressively. They need your answer ASAP.”

She set her phone down, staring at the notes she’d created comparing the offer to her current position, the numbers swimming before her eyes.

Lists of figures, benefits packages, stock options—all quantifiable, measurable.

But nowhere on her meticulously laid out offer was there a column for “cats I’ve grown to love” or “woman I can’t stop thinking about. ”

Her desk phone buzzed, Zachary’s voice coming through the intercom with unusual tension. “Ms. Taylor? Mr. Hamilton would like to see you in his office. Immediately.”

Jessica smoothed her skirt as she stood, checking her reflection in the office window. “Thank you, Zachary. I’ll head there now.”

The walk to Walter Hamilton’s corner office felt longer than usual, each step heavy.

Hamilton Trust had been her professional home for eight years.

She’d built her reputation here, crafted the sustainable investment division from concept to reality.

And now Meridian was offering to take that work global.

Walter’s assistant waved her directly in. “He’s expecting you, Jessica.”

Walter Hamilton stood at his window, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the Denver skyline.

He was one of only two men Jessica knew—her father being the other—who could command a room even with his back turned, exuding presence and charisma without saying a word.

He pivoted as Jessica entered, gesturing toward the leather chairs positioned before his desk.

“Jessica. Thank you for coming so quickly.” He settled into his chair, studying her with those shrewd eyes that had evaluated countless investment opportunities over four decades in the business. “The executive committee just concluded their meeting.”

Jessica nodded, maintaining her professional composure despite the tension coiling in her stomach. “I see.”

“I’ll get straight to the point. We want you to head our new London office.” He slid a folder across the desk. “These are the details of our offer.”

Jessica opened the folder, her breath catching as she scanned the first page. The compensation package exceeded Meridian’s already generous offer by fifteen percent. Housing allowance, signing bonus, expanded team budget, and, most surprisingly, a seat on the international executive committee.

“This is... very generous,” she managed, glancing up to meet Walter’s steady gaze.

“We won’t lose you to competitors if we can help it.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “You’ve built something exceptional here, Jessica. We want you to expand that vision internationally.”

Jessica continued reading, each page revealing additional incentives that would have seemed impossible just weeks ago.

International travel budget, discretionary investment fund for special projects, mentorship program development.

Elements she’d mentioned in passing and had only dreamed of implementing years down the road.

“The position would require relocation within the next thirty days,” Walter continued. “We understand that’s quick, but the London financial community moves fast. We need to establish presence before Meridian can poach our potential clients.”

Thirty days. One month to pack up a life she’d only just begun to build.

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Jessica.” Walter leaned forward slightly. “The kind of position people plan entire careers around. You’d be the youngest director in Hamilton’s international division, with a clear path to partnership within five years.”

A few months ago, she would have been celebrating.

She would have accepted on the spot, already mentally packing her penthouse and planning her London wardrobe.

The Jessica Taylor who had moved to Denver with nothing but ambition and a five-year plan would have seen this as the culmination of everything she’d worked toward.

But today?

“May I have some time to consider?” she asked, her voice far steadier than she felt.

Walter nodded, though surprise flashed briefly in his eyes. “Of course. But we’ll need your answer by Tuesday. The board meets again then to finalize the international expansion plans.”

Another deadline. Another demand for answers she didn’t have.

“Thank you, Walter. I appreciate the confidence the committee has placed in me.”

As she turned to leave, Walter’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Jessica, I appreciate you want time to consider the offer, but this isn’t the reaction I’d have expected from you… this hesitation is most unlike you.” He studied her, reading her reactions.

She swallowed, trying to maintain a steady gaze. “There are personal considerations I need to factor in.”

“Personal?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Romantic considerations?” There was no hiding the disapproval in his tone.

Jessica felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “There are a number of factors, Walter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a client meeting.”

She tucked the folder under her arm, hyperaware of its weight despite the meagre volume of pages—a future she had worked hard to achieve—held her head high and left.

As she walked back to her office, her phone buzzed with a text from Ali: Survived first round of board presentations! We’re through to the final stage next Thursday! Dinner tonight to celebrate the small victory?

Jessica paused in the hallway, looking at Ali’s message while Walter’s words echoed in her mind. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Thirty days to relocate. London.

She typed back: Rain check? Swamped with unexpected project. Will call you soon. Congrats on the board meeting!

The response came almost immediately: No problem. Miss you though. It’s been days.

Jessica stared at those words, the simple admission of missing her sending an unexpected wave of emotion through her chest. How many days had it been since she’d seen Ali? Since the night she’d given her the charm bracelet, made the soufflé, and made love to her as though her life depended on it.

Yet here she was, dodging her calls and messages, using work as a shield while she tried to sort through the tangled mess of her professional ambition and personal desires. Days of missing Ali so intensely it was a physical ache, yet still keeping her at arm’s length.

Back in her office, Jessica closed the door and sank into her chair, placing the offer folder and the printed email from Miranda Durrant side by side on her desk. She stared at them for several long minutes, then opened her laptop.

Like everything in Jessica’s life, she analyzed the data.

The numbers were undeniable. Either position would catapult her career to international prominence.

Either would fulfill the trajectory she’d mapped out for herself since business school.

Either would make her parents prouder than they’d ever been—if they knew about the offers, which they didn’t yet.

Jessica had deliberately kept the information from them, knowing her mother would immediately begin planning her London life without consideration for what Jessica might actually want.

And either would mean leaving Denver. Leaving the Victorian. Leaving the cats.

Leaving Ali.

Jessica closed the spreadsheet abruptly, unable to continue the analysis.

Her usual methodical approach to decision-making was failing her.

This wasn’t about numbers or career advancement or even professional fulfillment.

This was about something else entirely—something she’d never had to factor into her life before.

.. Before Vivian, before the inheritance, before Ali.

She canceled her remaining meetings for the day, instructing Zachary to reschedule her diary. Then she gathered her things and left the office, ignoring the concerned glance her assistant gave her as she passed.

Jessica drove home to the Victorian, never having needed the comfort of the old house more than she did today.

As she unlocked the front door, the cats greeted her with their usual mixture of indifference and demand.

Mr. Darcy watched from his high perch, Ernest meowed insistently for dinner, Zelda wound herself around Jessica’s ankles, nearly tripping her.

She fed them mechanically, her mind still churning. After ensuring they all had fresh water and clean litter boxes, Jessica retreated to the study, the one room in the house she’d claimed completely as her own workspace.

She sat at the antique desk that had once been Vivian’s, staring at the two folders she’d placed before her.

London or Denver. Career or... what? Love?

Was that what this was? This feeling that made her chest ache when she imagined never seeing Ali’s smile again, never feeling the weight of Empress on her lap, never again watching the Denver sunset from the Victorian’s porch?

It had to be. There was no other explanation for why she hadn’t immediately accepted either offer. No other reason why the thought of leaving made her physically ill despite the professional opportunities awaiting her.

Jessica Taylor—methodical, precise, always in control—had fallen in love. With a woman who wore mismatched socks and talked to animals as if they understood every word. With a life so different from the one she’d planned that she barely recognized herself within it.

Her phone rang again—Ali. Jessica stared at the screen, torn between desperate longing to hear her voice and fear of what that conversation would lead to.

If she told Ali about London, everything would change.

The tenuous, beautiful connection they’d been building would be shadowed by an expiration date, by the inevitable goodbye looming just weeks away.

Unless she stayed. Unless she chose Denver, chose Ali, chose this unexpected twist in the path over the career path she’d dedicated herself to for years.

Jessica let the call go to voicemail, unable to have that conversation yet, not until she’d sorted through her own tangled emotions. Not until she knew what she truly wanted.

She silenced her phone entirely, needing space from the outside world and its demands. From Walter Hamilton’s deadline. From Ali’s gentle understanding that would somehow make this decision both easier and impossibly harder.

As evening fell, the Victorian grew quiet save for the occasional cat moving through the halls.

Jessica remained at the desk, the offer folders unopened before her, feeling more lost than she’d ever been.

The woman who had built her reputation on certainty, on data-driven decisions and unerring precision, found herself utterly adrift.

London beckoned with all the professional validation she’d ever sought.

Denver held a kind of happiness she’d never expected to find.

And somewhere in the space between those two futures, Jessica Taylor waited for clarity that refused to come.